flash friday · Short Story

Friday Flash: Storm

This flash was inspired by memories of a recent storm. Wind, hail, rain. Watching it was pretty damn glorious.

A storm raged through the mountains, slashing at the lone peaks like a claws slashed at flesh.

The god was upset. She stood under the open skies, soaked to the bone, hair clinging to her skull and crowed.

She’d told him, hadn’t she? She’d told him.

Disobeying the god did no good. Even if the rules were wrong, unjust and hateful. Opposing him was like carrying water in cupped hands. Impossible.

Her brother was stupid stubborn. He wanted to protect his daughter. It wasn’t her fault the boy died, he said. She had to defend herself.

They’d both die now.

fantasy · flash friday · Short Story · Writing

Friday Flash: Dust Rider Born

Part six in my Friday flash series experiment! Parts one, two, three, four and five here.

Gazelle woke slowly, delightfully warm and dry and comfortable. She kicked at the blanket, but the whole bed shook and whined. It sounded like a pup.

Her eyes flew open. The sky overhead was a bright, cloudless blue. She sat up and froze. She lay not in her bed or even a patch of grass, but on a gigantic web stretching across the branches of dozens of trees.

A dust devil lay curled up across her legs. No, in her legs. No –

“It’s part of you now,” someone said.

She looked up to see the dust rider who had come to take her. “Part of me?”

“It will you let you go eventually.” His lips curved into an amused smile. “Like a boy’s balls dropping.”

“Like what?” What was wrong with this man?

“Until than you are joined at the tail. So to speak.”


He laughed. “Don’t kick your devil when he’s asleep. It bites.”

Joined at the tail? She eyed the baby devil and tried to move her legs. The wound-up dust devil uncurled a little and shifted; she moved forward on the web. And though she couldn’t see her legs, still the web felt rough and sticky under her.

The baby devil lifted its sleek, pointy head and yowled. It had a mouthful of sharp, white fangs.

“He’s probably hungry,” the dust rider said and pointed at the far edge of the web. “Take him over there.”

“How?” demanded Gazelle.

But the dust rider only smiled.

Gazelle took a deep breath and pretended her legs weren’t encased inside the dust devil. The baby devil responded, it’s head and body undulating under her. She grabbed on with both hands as it crawled forward to the other end of the web.

Large stripes of raw, bloody meat hung from thinner branches above them. The baby dust devil swallowed the carcass of a piglet whole. It turned than to look at her out of dark, unfathomable eyes and rubbed itself against her chest.

Gazelle gulped and touched its head. Only then did she realize her chest seemed to have gone flat. She frowned down at it. She even wore a flight suit, like the dust rider worn. But who -?

“It’s your skin now,” said the dust rider.

He had followed her across the web and now stood watching a few feet away.

“I – what?” Lord, but couldn’t she say anything else to him?

“Your skin,” he repeated. “We are not human anymore. Your breasts will come back when you give birth.”

She gaped. Not human.

“The stories are true. We really are gods. You are a very lucky girl, Gazelle, to be chosen.”

The End!

There might be people who want more. I know there could be more, that I could turn this into a much longer work. But, honestly, I am done. I want to get back to normal Friday flash fiction.

(Unless I turn this into a Tuesday serial. Still thinking about that.)

fantasy · flash friday · Short Story · Writing

Friday Flash: Dust Devil

Not entirely sure about this one, but here we go. 😉

The dust devil rose on the horizon, where the lake met the river. It wound lazily among the clouds.

She gaped at it for a heartbeat, than snatched the basket of clothes and ran back to the house. Bare feet slid in the mud, but she didn’t dare slow down.

She looked back only once. All the fishing boats were coming in.

Her mother and aunts were in the front yard, shelling peas and laughing.

“It’s coming!” she gasped. “The dust devil. Over the lake.”

Her mother frowned. “Are you sure – you must be. Give me that. Get the children.”

fantasy · flash friday · Short Story · Writing

Friday Flash: Deferred Promises

This idea just came to me.

The white stag raced across the muddy, churned-up meadow, shimmered and disappeared.

Fucking fae.

Fury swept through Hammer. He fisted his hands, wanting to hit something. Preferably the fae. The stupid lying fae – how could he be so stupid?

He knew they lied. Knew he shouldn’t believe the stag’s sweet words.

Hammer turned, slammed his fist into the tree behind him. Pain sang up his arm. He welcomed it, welcomed the splinters. Anything to take his mind off the stag’s betrayal.

He smashed his fist into the tree again. Heard something crack. He looked up and something silver fell to the ground in front of him. A ring.

He bent and picked it up. The words I am sorry were etched around the band.

fantasy · flash friday · Short Story · Writing

Friday Flash: To Survival

This piece is inspired by this picture from the wiki commons.

He looked over his shoulder for the last time. The white-washed building had been home for ten years. It lacked earthly pleasures, but there was more peace inside it than any palace.

He might be back, but never as a monk. The king, perhaps. If he was lucky enough to survive his coronation.

He took a deep breath, looked ahead, straightened the gold tassels on his sleeves and squeezed his calves gently to move the horse forward.

His guard fell in around him, a glittering force in sable uniforms and crimson trim.

He sent up a silent prayer for survival.

Short Story · Writing

Succinctly Yours: Button!

Succinctly Yours is a weekly meme by grandma. Of this meme she says:

How low can you go?

Use the photo as inspiration for a story of 140 characters OR 140 words. It doesn’t have to be exactly 140, just not more. This one is 140 characters.

Hundreds of pretty yellow duckies swarmed the sea. He crouched, pounced and gloried in the squeaks.

“Oh no Button! The tub isn’t for you.”

fantasy · flash friday · Short Story · Writing

F is for Friday Flash: Red Juice

Today’s Friday Flash! Enjoy, people.

The pretty lady wanted my red juice recipe. I wrote it down. She said she would give me her red juice to make it with. It’s so nice of her! I’ve never tasted a lawyer before. Doctors, nurses, accounts, waitresses, but not lawyers.


  1. twelve cups of red juice from a light-skinned lady with chocolate hair. Chocolate mind, not black. Black haired ladies taste bad.
  2. three ounce packages strawberry flavored gelatin mix
  3. four cups sugar
  4. two (46 fluid ounce) cans pineapple juice
  5. two cups lemon juice
  6. four (2 liter) bottles ginger ale


  1. In a large bowl, whisk together the strawberry gelatin mix and six cups of red juice. Set aside. In a large pot, boil remaining six cups of red juice. Stir in the sugar until dissolved. Pour sugar-water into the gelatin water. Stir in the pineapple and lemon juice. Mix well. Pour into pretty pans to freeze.
  2. Place one of the frozen portions into a jug, and pour one bottle of ginger ale over it.
fantasy · flash friday · Short Story · Writing

Friday Flash: Sons

My first Friday flash in weeks. Weeks and weeks and weeks. 😉

“He said he’s not my father. He denied it in front of everyone!”

“He’s denied it for years. You can’t run off like a child because -”

“He doesn’t want me! I don’t want him either. I’m leaving. If he decides he wants a son instead of a – a minion he can come find me.”

“Son -”

“You’re not my father!”

“No, but I do care for you. He loves you as well. He just -”

“- is too ashamed of me to call me son?”

“I am certain he is very proud of you.”

“Like hell. Tell him goodbye.”

Short Story · Writing

Succinctly Yours: Red!

Succinctly Yours is a weekly meme by grandma. Of this meme she says:

How low can you go?

Use the photo as inspiration for a story of 140 characters OR 140 words. It doesn’t have to be exactly 140, just not more. This one is 140 characters.

I adored the new color on my table and chairs. It provided the only spot of color in the whole room. Maybe red cushions would complete them?

fantasy · flash friday · Short Story · Writing

Friday Flash: The Offering

Found this drabble in my files. I only needed to add a couple of lines. 😉 Enjoy.

The offering’s chassis was cold. Air barely moved inside the flesh and its little lips were blue. He felt a brief spurt of anger toward the parents; how could they do this? Offerings were not meant to be so small.

He cocooned the babe in layers of air and heated it with his own breath. When it opened blue eyes, he carried it into the clouds.

The elders would know what to do, how to care for it.

The elders told him to reject the offering and leave it where he found it.

He decided to disobey and keep it.