Flash Fiction Friday: Killer Smile

It's time for another Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers' Challenge! Enjoy! “Dear God, no.” Detective Janet Honorée held her breath. There, scrawled on the pink cinderblock wall, a chalk white smiley face laughed at her. “Is it his?” Detective Dave Bains stooped over the body of a young man a couple of yards away. He … Continue reading Flash Fiction Friday: Killer Smile

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Flash Fiction Friday: The Thrill of the Hunt

Here's this week's entry for the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer's challenge. Enjoy! Barbara watched the fool-filled barge pass into the Gulf. How had Luke Padsmoore ever talked them into it? She still heard their roar, intoxicated by the thrill of the hunt of a monster. A bell chimed behind her. Barbara turned. Lucy Padsmore … Continue reading Flash Fiction Friday: The Thrill of the Hunt

Flash Fiction Friday: Time To Heal With My Awesomeness

Here's this week's Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers entry. This is a story of fiction. Any resemblance to real and existing persons is completely intentional...I mean unintentional. Really... __________________________________________________________________________________ “This is your speech?” Malcolm shuffled the stack of index cards in his hand. “Sir, you can’t…” “Never say I can’t. I won. I’m a winner. … Continue reading Flash Fiction Friday: Time To Heal With My Awesomeness

Flash Fiction Friday: A Quiet Day at the Cafe

Here is this week's Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers' installment. Enjoy! ------------------------------------------------ How did they find me? Roger stared across the bustling café to his table. His hands trembled and he clenched his fists to stop them. He walked over to the table and picked up a pair of sunglasses that sat on his coffee … Continue reading Flash Fiction Friday: A Quiet Day at the Cafe

Flash Fiction Friday: To Fuel the Fire

Here is my entry to this week's Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. It was quiet. The roar of the crowd silenced. Yasmine knelt before the shrine of stone. No flowers. This was not the time for flowers. Small metal pots sat on individual fire pits. Some would nourish the protesters. Her own pot would … Continue reading Flash Fiction Friday: To Fuel the Fire