Flash Fiction Stories
Marbled streams of fire shifted and wound through hissing clouds of acrid smoke. Fissures broke open like wounds, finding each other and melting into flickering rivers before swollen dams of black rock rolled across and cut them from the night sky.
A maelstrom swirled high above, peppering the shifting rock with ashen pumice as forks of lightning shruck at the ground.
The old man looked on, fingers tightening in his palms. Tears fell at the beauty of it. His heart broke as children screamed.
One last toll of the church bell broke the air.
Fire leapt. The screams stopped.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Yosh Ginsu via Unsplash.
Pompeii sprang to mind when I read “Intense”. There was a man who witnessed it and survived – Plinny the Younger. It’s hard to imagine how terrible it was for him to see.
Today’s story title was donated by fellow blogger and author Angelica Kidd, who is just beginning her submission for NanoWrimo as of yesterday! Follow her progress at https://angelicakidd.wordpress.com/.
See you tomorrow for “Enslavement”.
The tyres weren’t going to take it. James could already feel the grip yielding against the tarmac. He could see them in his mind – the rubber twisting and giving way.
“Don’t be afraid to brake.”
He whispered the phrase over and over, patting the break line as he stared down the opening straight. The first turn was taunting him: daring him. Take it right and the race was his.
James gripped the wheel as the crowd hushed. The timer on the board reset.
He patted the plywood of the soapbox racer and his Dad got ready to push,….
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Pascal Richier via Unsplash.
Well I hope you all had a lovely Halloween!
Today’s story title was donated by the wonderful K.M. Joshi – graphic designer and musician. You can find him and follow him (you stalkers, you!) over on Twitter @. Suggest your own one word title by popping a comment below or tweeting me @ and the next story could be yours!
Oh, and don’t forget to hit that “follow” button, below and to the right, for daily stories!
Blinding green light pulsed through heavy black air, fixing faces like photographs – caught in their euphoria. Jermain Wallace watched arms and mouths melt together in sexual abandon – tiny slivers of lust matched to music.
The bass trembled in his chest and rode through the floor: the pill dissolved on his tongue. The faces rippled to blackness and he rose his hands high to worship.
The empty Ibiza desert echoed around him as he opened his eyes.
His shirt was blood-stained. The blood was not his.
Jermain didn’t care.
The bass was all he needed. The bass was God.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Melissa Askew via Unsplash.
An interesting image to form a story from this – quite wonderful that I didn’t know precisely where it was going to end up!
Great thanks to supernatural romance author extraordinaire Rebecca Pollard for donating the word. You can find her on twitter @. Say I sent you 🙂
Enjoy more stories by clicking the links above and to the side. You can also support One Word One Story by clicking here.
Suggest your own words by tweeting me @ or popping a note in the comments of this post. See you tomorrow for “Corner”!
Mr. Funaki pinched his fingers so softly together, his wrist turning, the violin singing a long, fragile note that rang through the auditorium. His heart soared with every trill. His breath sighed and twisted at every gleaming, crystal-sharp echo that swept through his chest and swam high against the rafters. The instrument was perfect: its dance so delicate that the tiniest fracture would form in his mind and shine like the sun.
Tears stung his eyes as they flicked open, gazing at the silent instrument in its case. He lay his swollen, arthritic hands to his lap,… the memory fading away.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image courtesy of Providence Doucet via Unsplash
Please explore the blog and read a few more stories. If you like them, share them. And if you want to suggest a one word story, tweet me @ using the hashtag #onewordonestory now.
Before you do, pop a Like on the OWOS Facebook Page and I’ll see you tomorrow for “Window”!
Francis placed the quill carefully into the ink, sighing as he watched the dying fire crack and spit. He barely saw the dim glow of the flames. He looked through them at the days ahead: at what needed to be done.
There was a cry from the street outside and Francis flinched, his heart thundering as he stood and peered through the glass.
“What are you doing?”
Francis knew the voice behind him. It purred in refined malice. Rage dissolved to terror as he heard the soldiers file in. The book was still open.
“I’m telling the truth, your worship.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image courtesy of Martin Kníže via Uplash.
Keep your one word titles coming in! Pop your suggestion in the comments section below or tweet it to me @ using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
If you’re enjoying these flash fiction stories, check out Chapter One of “The Santa Beneath the Ice” FOR FREE by clicking the banner to the side.
See you tomorrow for “Crepuscular”!