Friday, March 27, 2015

Flash Fiction Friday: The Book of Things

Today's prompt was a text prompt:

"I think I've been dead since '98."

And my response:

I think I’ve been dead since ’98.

Oh, that was also the year I was born, actually. Keep forgetting that. The thing about dying and living at the same time is that it’s often hard to keep things straight, so I write most things in a little leather-bound notebook I keep on my person. Appropriately, it has “Things” embossed on the front. If you don’t mind, I’ll write your name in here—not that I’m calling you a “thing”, per see (humans get so touchy about labels. That observation, by the way, is Thing #24), but you’ll understand that it’s just to be concise. Alright? Good. 


Read the other responses:

Ginny Romney -

Friday, March 20, 2015

Flash Fiction Friday - Butterfly Issues

Since I keep losing track of weeks, I decided to give up labeling them and call each week after the title of my story.

The winter had been long and dull, and this walk was my first since the blizzarding stopped. Suddenly, there came in the sky a butterfly, blue and black and beautiful. I chased it through the wood, never caring about where it was taking me or why.

It found a house and darted inside—I followed suit. The hallway was filled with hundreds of butterflies, all nestling on the walls. They seemed to sense that there was a foreign thing among them. Suddenly, they all left their wall in a tornado of color. They smothered me.

I died. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last—but may I just say, it was the prettiest death I’ve ever died. 

Read the other responses:

Ginny Romney -