“Darling Cynthia, please give me just one more chance!”
“Why should I settle for an imperfect suitor?” sniffed Cynthia. “You answered a question wrong!”
“I’ll change my answer! I’ll change anything! Just tell me how!”
Cynthia considered. “Fine, one more chance. After all, I am the fairest of them all.”
This story is based on a title suggested by @Sir_Oddington.
It was her last day on the job.
She had been hired to define and monetize new niche markets for fashion accessories. The kneecklace had earned a following among recently married forty-year-old South American twins, especially when combined with pop-star branding, but the wide-brimmed hats had been a real flop.
I apologize.
The word eludes me.
“Done yet?” she interrupts.
I scowl. “Looking for another Bestseller?”
“Yep!” my assistant chirps. She loves launch parties.
Sanity vanishes. I strike with my pen repeatedly.
Blood oozes, and she dies at my feet.
“Contract’s expired.”
I blink. “There’s the word I was looking for… Expired.”
Lisa Forget lives in Quebec, Canada. A singer and entertainer by profession, she enjoys writing paranormal, romantic and young adult fiction as an extension of her artistic expression. She is a member of Kelley Armstrong’s writing forums, successfully completed NaNoWriMo 2010, and will have four flash fiction stories published by Pill Hill Press in the DAILY FLASH 2012: 366 DAYS OF FLASH FICTION (LEAP YEAR EDITION) anthology coming out in the fall of 2011. She’s currently hard at work on what she hopes will become her first YA novel.
After long days of deposits, withdrawals, and balance inquiries they often felt dirty when they got home, so they liked to race each other to the bathroom to play the “Who Can Get the Cleanest?” game.
She always claimed she had won, but he liked to make her prove it.
Editor’s Note: Did you spot the double pun in the title?
We bumped one another in the mall.
“Well excuse me,” she pouted.
But I didn’t. Her tone, her look, and her behaviour were a sad excuse for civility, so I excused myself from the situation.
Satisfied, I proceeded to the next entry in my Word-Practice Dictionary: excycloduction would be harder.
It had been a fantastic idea, in theory.
For months they had lived together in harmony, sharing a common home and a common purpose.
Then the new litterbox arrived. From that day forward, it was every cat for himself.
Except when they were puppeteering Obama. They still did that together.
Jimmy always brought tater tots to school. Worse, he flaunted them.
That made him a target.
Ryan drew the plans up, Kevin swiped the locker keys, Megan played the decoy, and Aiden prepped the route to the hideout.
But Brandon forgot to bring the ketchup, so they tattled on him.
This story is based on a title suggested by a participant in a 50-word stories live-writing session.
He fell to his knees and held his hands to his chest, praying earnestly to the Lord.
He sobbed and cursed as they lowered the casket into the ground.
The nurse gently took his arm and led him back inside.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Fredrickson,” she said. “We’ll get you another goldfish.”
Laura Chester is a sixth form student hoping to go to university to study Creative Writing.
“Our customer service is our greatest asset!” Rosco explained to the customer.
“That’s sort of a… strange slogan for a toilet paper wholesaler,” the woman suggested hesitantly.
“We don’t wipe your bottoms for you or anything,” Rosco clarified.
She looked relieved.
He added, “But we do offer complimentary instructional videoconferencing!”
“Granny, can I borrow your–”
“Hush, child,” said Granny Gramgrams. “West Fallingdown is on!”
Sonny was forced to construct his denture polisher without reference to actual dentures.
Later tests were… “unsuccessful.” But the polisher’s severe over-spinning counteracted the earth’s ever-worsening irregular orbit, so on the whole, it turned out ok.