The Commodore stood on the balcony, his arms spread wide to the crowd below.
“This, my friends, is the start of a new country! A new hope! A new dawn for you – free from the corruption of the old ways!”
Jubilant cheers echoed from building to building. Horns blared from every street as the Commodore cupped his hands together and shook them in triumph.
Behind him a man in a black suit was inspecting a model of an oil field, lifting a letter from beside it and lighting the corner with a match.
“Thank you, Commodore. That will do nicely.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Linhao Zhang Courtesy of Unsplash
This story is dedicated to the memory and family of Jo Cox, MP for Batley and Spen in the UK, who was shot and killed earlier today. Jo was a fearless fighter for justice, peace and the good of her constituents. She was a wonderful example to us all. My thoughts are with her family.
The coffee made the General smile: a small taste of home, so far away. He gazed at the hologram of his wife and kids, watching them smile and laugh as they petted the dog. Their hair danced silently in the breeze as the recording repeated again and again. The General sighed.
His concentration was broken by a cough. A Sergeant stood by the desk, a pad in his hand.
“Today’s execution orders, Sir.”
He looked at the insect-like faces of the prisoners and sneered. His thumbprint sealed the fate of each. Women, children; traitors.
His hologram family kept smiling.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo Image by Nasa via Unsplash.
If you’d like me to write you a story based on a word of your choice, pop your word in the comments section below or tweet it to me @ using the hastag #onewordonestory.
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The House Mouse paused. The long grass around him was sighing and rustling as he gazed up through the forest of green leaves. So close.
The hum of the swarm shook the air: a cloud of insects flitting to and fro, journeying to distant flowers. They wouldn’t see him, surely? Not a tiny mouse like him,…
The honey dripped down the white paint: a golden stream overflowing to the soil below.
“Where do you think you’re going?” The Bee was bent double with age, its forelegs crossed over its sting.
The mouse pouted and turned away from the guard.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image courtesy of Karsten Wurth Via Unsplash.
A big thank you to Aaron Robshaw for today’s word. Aaron is an expert on armor and leather work. He combines bespoke crafting of armour for re-enactments and collectors with leather work for motorbikes. You can discover the latter by clicking here.
See you tomorrow for “Illuminated”!
The little Goth Girl creeped Steve out. She’d been quiet all through the movie and she was quieter now. But Daisy liked her and tormenting her was fun.
“I Vaaaant to suck your bloooood!” Steve laughed. He didn’t know why Daisy wanted to see such a terrible movie but it meant getting to third base so,…
He punched the Goth Girl’s shoulder hard, throwing her sideways.
“Is that what they think Vamps are like?”
“They do.” The Goth Girl turned on Steve. “But we’re not.”
Both girls were laughing now. Both girls were smiling. Both girls’ eyes were blood red.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image courtesy of Aurélien Bellanger via Unsplash.
Today’s title was suggested by Farnham Fun Palace – an event that takes place in October this year. Find out more by tweeting them @.
The great thing about writing a whole new short story every day for a year is learning all these new words! I’d never hear Crepuscular before. And now I bet you’re going to Google it,…. yep, I thought so.
Please keep sharing and liking the stories on Twitter, Facebook and beyond! Help me get the word out and lets make this a community for all those who enjoy Flash Fiction. Suggest a word by tweeting me @ using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
The young girl blinked and giggled, the sparkling dots swimming in her gaze as she kicked her feet in the air.
The fluttering lights danced and circled the branches around her, bathing her face in warmth as dew soaked through her dress. She didn’t care about the dress. She didn’t care about the angry shouts of her parents. She didn’t even care about the sirens, the flames or the screams as the atom bomb flared in the distance, turning all to ash.
She was with her friends at the bottom of her garden and they would always keep her safe,…
Like this story? Take a look at the other 19 – you can find them by clicking links to the left or hitting the Pre-Loved Words link at the top. Remember the plan: 365 stories in 365 days! Join me on the journey by hitting the Follow button (if you’re on WordPress) or liking the OWOS Facebook page!
Today’s word was suggested by talented writer and poet Anne Gaelan – You can suggest a word just like she did: tweet me at @ using the hashtag #onewordonestory
See you tomorrow for “Coincidence”!
Colonel Anderson jumped as the beast slammed its snaked arm against the splintering glass. His hands shook as he lifted his wrist to his mouth, spitting breathless commands to the rest of his platoon. He had to stay quiet: the alien saw the world in sound. It knew he was there on the other side of the bulkhead. It knew. He hissed a second order but it was no good,… they were gone.
“Aaaand I think we’ll call that Lunch, Colonel,” boomed a female voice. “That’s the Tenth simulation you’ve screwed. But don’t feel too bad,… it’s Pasta Wednesday”
If you get it, you get it. And if you do, let me know! If you’re enjoying the stories, hit that follow button below (if you’re on WordPress) or like the OWOS Facebook page. Oh, and share it on Facebook and Twitter 🙂
Tendrils was suggested by my old sparring partner John “Bobby” R Wilkinson (Esquire): Associate Artist at York Theatre Royal and all-round top bloke!
If you want to suggest a word, pop it in the comments or Tweet it to me @timaustin2k using the hastag #onewordonestory.
Browse a few more stories and I’ll see you tomorrow for “Particles”!
I saw such worlds that day. Skies of burnt orange and mountains of glass: rings of glittering crystal stretching from horizon to horizon. Seas made of joy lapped at sands of pain and loss: footprints of creatures unknown to me slowly sinking to nothing. All of this captured in the dark of my master’s room, shining from the sphere I held in my palm.
A footstep on a stair shook my rapture. A presence behind me chilled my spine.
The jewel shattered when he struck me down.
Now, in my blindness, those worlds live only in my dreams.
(c) Tim Austin 2016
If you want to suggest a word, pop something in the comments or tweet the word using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
See you tomorrow for “Termite”.