Tag Archives: flash fiction

Off the Grid

Leaving Grace and the kids was the best decision he had ever made. Sometimes, when he woke up to a dark sky, he still felt her voice in his ear with complaints about the butter being too hard and the stray glass that had remained on the couch table overnight.

Those nights he laughed, rolled on his side and fell asleep with a smile on his lips. She was somewhere in the city with her litter and her own mother probably passed out on the couch again. Continue reading

Five Days. Five Nights.

Noah J. was so kind to narrate this story. You can listen and read along:

This story was also translated to Polish.


The first four days Lachlan had been excited. The fifth day, that Friday that he came back from primary school with dirt on his knees, he was not excited. He was euphoric.

I was in my office, writing the final formulaic words of another research proposal.

“Daaad!”

“Hey!”

“Dad! Dad! Dad!”

“Oh wow, someone is happy. Enjoyed school?”

“School is awesome!”

“That’s great!”

“And I have loads of friends!”

“Of course you do.”

“Look!”

He stretched his small, dirty hand towards me.

“You cut yourself?”

“No.”

“That looks like a cut.”

“It’s a talesman.” Continue reading

Nightmare till Death

Trigger warning


They just came, without question, every night – as if they had always been there. I don’t remember when the nightmares started.

My daily life was normal, average, boring. I went to school. I learned pointless things about the world and the past world. I had friends that I met after school. But I dreaded the nights.

The nights were always the same. Someone slapping me; cutting me; pulling me up on my arms until my muscles started to scream in pain; raped me.

Those nights, the more I think back the longer they seem to go back. The nightmares were just always there, just like my normal life was. The nightmares, filled with nothing except pain and fear and sometimes a TV running in the background. Continue reading

Crackling

I’ve heard them for all of last week. Crackling noises. Every night. My bathroom doesn’t have a window. There it also happened during the day.

I don’t know where it started. I remember hearing it while I was making dinner. Then again while watching TV. It was faint, like a piece of paper being blown with the wind. But it was there.

Probably an open window. Something being blown around. At most a mouse. That’s what I thought.

Then I found the mouse. In a moment there was a crackling or rustling sound behind the sofa. Then a squeak. When I pulled the sofa away she was just lying there. The blood was still flowing out of the body. The head was ripped off. Or maybe bitten off.

I looked everywhere and couldn’t find the head. Continue reading