Dad makes every shot. Nothing fazes him, not the windmill blades, the narrow bridge, the ripped carpet on Hole 7.
“They should fix that,” he notes, then drains the tricky putt.
My own ball rims out. Again. I curse it.
“Relax,” Dad tells me, as if he ever could have.
Jim Anderson is a retired college lecturer who lives in Michigan where he reads a lot and writes a little. More of his micro-fiction can be found at JimTheWriter.net.
Ponder I, alone: “What brought me here?”
The wind says nothing.
“What force?” cry I.
Nothing, again.
“God?” I wait for any answer.
Nothing comes.
“Nothing, then,” ponder I, alone. No fate steered my course. I chose this path.
I turn away to family dinner. How I despise political turkey.
Andrew is an unpublished fiction writer in the Washington area. In his spare time he enjoys pens, pads, word processors and pudding.
Their spouses’ corporations had merged.
Wow, she said, blinking.
How embarrassing is this, he said.
I’m having flashbacks, she whispered.
He smiled shyly.
Remember falling, she said, into one another’s embrace? Remember holding on for dear life?
Youthful mistakes, he sighed.
Perhaps it’s time we made them again, she said.
Bob Thurber is the author of “Paperboy: A Dysfunctional Novel” and two collections of stories. A celebrated master of Flash and Micro Fiction, his work has appeared in 60 anthologies, received dozens of awards, and been used in schools and colleges throughout the world. He resides in Massachusetts where, though legally blind, he continues to write every day. Visit his website at BobThurber.net.
The story of the week for November 25 to 29 is…
Unfinished by Carol Anne Harvey
In company of mistletoe, fungi, moss, and lichen
the giant stretched forth its mighty limbs
and ring by ring outlived those special eyes
which once reflected their acorn treasure.
The woodsmen stayed their axes
and turned to stare at fallen titans
bearing ugly damning emblems
red with blood.
They wept.
Irish writer Perry McDaid lives in Derry under the brooding brows of Donegal hills which he occasionally hikes in search of druidic inspiration. He even finds it on occasion.
It’s petit-mal, the doctor called my seizures. I knew enough from my French class to know that means ‘a little bit bad,’ which sounded like they weren’t taking me seriously.
It may be little, but what they call things can make a big difference. They really should think about that.
Henry Bladon is a writer of short fiction and poetry based in Somerset in the UK. His work can be seen in Fewer than 500, Pure Slush, Truth Serum Press, and Flash Frontier, among other places.
The order has arrived. There’s Hastings, sitting in a corner stroking his lucky rabbit’s foot. Cranston, his eyes closed, intoning the Rosary. Others praying under their breath, crossing themselves. Superstitious fools!
Suddenly a whistle shrills.
I check my watch. Thirteen hundred hours. I’m enveloped by a dark sense of foreboding.
David McTigue is from Liverpool UK who writes to fight his inner demons.
The giant’s theme song blared.
Vaulting over the ropes into the ring, he waved to the cheering fans and bellowed his catchphrase: “Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum!”
He grinned. Screw that thieving punk who’d chopped down the beanstalk and tried to kill him. Becoming a WWE Superstar was the best revenge.
Jen Mierisch draws inspiration from science fiction, ghost stories, and the wacky idiosyncrasies of human nature. Her work has appeared in Sammiches & Psych Meds, Potato Soup Journal, and Lighten Up Online. She lives, works, and writes just outside Chicago, Illinois.
He took a can of beer from the fridge and shook it. In the living room, concealing a smirk, he handed it to Nora. She pulled the tab. The beer exploded. He licked it off her face, neck, shoulders while she giggled, and that was the end of their argument.
Kay Rae Chomic is a published novelist (A Tight Grip). She has flash writings published in Crack the Spine, Five:2:One’s The Side Show, Writer Advice, Two Sisters Writing, Hysteria 6 (UK), and The First Line. She had a story shortlisted for the flash fiction contest sponsored by Hastings LitFest-2019 (UK). Kay lives in Seattle, loves to travel, has a passion for ping pong, and is a Motown fan forever.
He stood her up on their third date.
Fifteen years and three lovers later, he finds her in Savenor’s Market. After exchanging greetings, he leaves. She studies the sirloin.
Suddenly he’s back, takes her face in his hands, passionately kisses her, and hurries away.
Stunned, she moves on to produce.
Carol Anne Harvey has been writing poetry and short stories since she was 5. Her focus now is on writing micro memoirs. “Unfinished” is her first submission to 50-Word Stories.