Posts under ‘x500 Flash Fiction’

I pause the video during a scene at school recess. The cement court is surrounded by a tall chain link fence. The children do not play a single game. Several balls pass back and forth between them. All stop mid-air or mid-bounce when I press the button on the remote. Ghostly blurs jitter on the screen. I’m half-standing two feet from the television and still wondering why all of the children are blond. Slowly I break away and answer the knock on the door. –read more–

On weekends Otto reads. His recliner tilts back like the cradle of an astronaut prepared for liftoff. A beer bottle stands erect as a rocket on the table beside him. He blows a continuous plume of smoke as he works through the pack of cigarettes he will smoke. When hungry he microwaves a few dogs and sets a bag of chips between his legs. He carries his paperbacks with him to the bathroom and sits at length, not rushing anything. Only when Darla comes home from work does he stop. He places a finger between the pages to ask about her day. He listens patiently until Darla slips away to the coffee maker. He begins reading. –read more–