I ran away with my prince to the forest.
“Stay the night with me,” he said, and laid me down on the forest floor. When we were done, I fell asleep shrouded in wildflowers.
When I woke up, he was gone. Now I no longer believe in happily heather rafters.
Wendy White Lees is a freelance writer and editor who still believes in fairy tale endings, even if she has to write them herself.
She fished the gem out of her belly button, popped it in her mouth, and swallowed.
“So predictable,” yawned the border guard.
“You know what happens next?” She smiled. “Now you have to get it the hard way.”
Just then, her little cough turned into a full-on choke.
Lynlea Oppie enjoys reading and writing flash fiction.
“I won’t recommend seafood dishes anymore,” the waiter explains. “It has landed me in hot water too many times before.”
“Oh?” I say. “Do people really get upset with you when they don’t like your suggestions?”
“I mean literal hot water,” he says sardonically, clicking his lobster claws.
This story was based on the prompt “won’t recommend” at TypeTrigger.
“I’m returning this puzzle.”
“Sorry, we don’t do returns on products that have been taken out of the packaging.”
“But there were pieces missing!”
“Oh… I see the misunderstanding. You can’t get the corners here.”
“What? Where do I get them?”
“At a Corner Store. Duh.”
This story was based on the prompt “corner store” at TypeTrigger.
Glenda sashayed into the house pulling an overflowing shopping cart.
Trevor nearly fell off his chair. “What in the world? Where’d you get all that butter!?”
“I was couponing,” explained Glenda, “and I got on a roll…”
“What are we supposed to do with it!?”
“…Put it on some rolls?”
“Man, you’re SUCH a bummer.”
“I am? I didn’t realize… I thought you invited me on this live animal capturing expedition because you enjoyed my company.”
“I do! But, see, when I tag the animals, I shoot the dart into their shoulders… Why do you keep aiming for their rumps?”
This story was based on the prompt “bummed out” at TypeTrigger.
“I know how pretty I am,” she crooned. “Tell me something else about myself.”
“Ah,” I said. “You’re just so… attractive, really.”
“No, something else!” she insisted.
“You’re… pleasing to my eyes?”
She softened, but was not yet appeased.
I wish my next attempt hadn’t been “pulchritudinous.”
This story was based on the prompt “something else” at TypeTrigger.
“I have never before encountered such impudence!” blustered the King. “It is an affront! It is an outrage! Insulting! Degrading! Disrespectful! I should have you put in the stocks, clapped in irons, hanged, beheaded! You’re just so very, very… Well, impudent!”
“My most humble and sincere apologies,” said the imp.
This story was based on the prompt “never before” at TypeTrigger.
Chick flicks, tragedies, heartbreaking anti-romances… She couldn’t get enough. Those faces on the screen, looming large, eyes, noses, mouths puckered in anguish, terrified: “Love me! Love me! I don’t want to be alone!”
Her hard drives were filled to the brim with her obsession. She was downloading torrents of tears.
This story was based on the prompt “torrents” at TypeTrigger.