Tuesday, 1 August 2017


Flash Fiction has a few disciplines, the three I know of are 100 words - popular with The Spanishish Museum of Words which has a $US 20,000 prize every couple of years. the there is the more traditional 1000 word staple popular in anthologies, but my favourite is 150 words or less that I learned with many other talented folks on the Redbubble art site before it stopped being a community and became a place to buy pirated artwork. It was something I enjoyed and found that these short little stories with a start middle and end were great for transitioning into comic scripts, which is what I tend to do more of these days. These stories below (and in the next couple of posts) are from those redbubble years and can be found in compilations HERE from blurb via Anne van Alkermade's murphywrite imprint. So here we go. Short sharp stories or as Mister Khan called them once: Short stories with a punchline.


It was hard to live your life with a gas mask on. Distorting the words you wanted to really say and clouding the sights you wanted to see. Nadine knew this. For the last 30 years it had destroyed her marriage and alienated her children. Alcohol seeped through the mask and diluted the bondage and made the mask a little easier to ignore. Medication didn’t work when she took it and everybody told it did when she didn’t. Then one day Nadine took the mask off and it was all so clear . In her car with the windows up and the hose connected to the tail pipe.
As the cockroaches, mice , spiders and rats ignored the purring motor in the garage till the fuel run out.
Clarity was brief and so was the answer.


Jason walked up the footpath with his usual swagger, his mates lagging
a few steps behind. He leaped up the stairs in one bound.
"I'll show you how it's done" he boasted as he smacked loudly on door.
"Go away" came a muffled voice behind the door. Jason kept banging until he heard footsteps pounding towards the door.
It swung open revealing a skinny, tired looking old man "What?"
"Trick or Treat?" asked Jason
The man stood- staring at Jason for a good twenty seconds.
Then said: "Trick"
"Tight arse" Jason mumbled and in one fast motion thrust out his hand which palmed an egg and slammed it into the man's forehead.
 "There" shouted Jason and turned to run.
The man shot Jason in the back five times before he made it down the stairs.


“Pull my finger”
“Go on , it’s a surprise”
“Dad, I’m thirteen. It isn’t even funny anymore”
“Go on, humour your old man”
“Come on for your dear old dad’s sake. It’s been bakin’ for a while”
The son knew he would never get to fully enjoy the television show he was watching unless he complied with this age old ritual. The son took his father’s finger and in a moment of cheekiness decided to push instead of pull.
The last thing the son remembers of his father was the look of shock and pain seconds before he exploded.

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