It happened occasionally, stray balls, wayward kites, but today was relentless.
Baubles in her birdbath, puddings thrown into petunias, tinsel in her tulips.
Angrily, she marched next door, demanded an explanation.
Guiltily, her neighbour’s boy confessed to everyone: “I hoped she’d come. She’s alone on Christmas Day. Can she stay?”
Jo Withers writes short stories and poetry from her home in South Australia. She wishes everybody a safe and happy holiday season.
After paying in cash so there would be no paper trail,
after sneaking it in under his shirt,
after hiding it all weekend in the back of the freezer,
after thawing it in the microwave while she bathed,
he put the dead mouse under her pillow,
and then he waited.
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, despite severe vision loss, he continues to write every day. Visit his website at BobThurber.net.
A merman wearing a seaweed waistcoat burst from the water and landed in our gondola, showering us with spray.
“Marry him, you idiot!” he yelled, then dived back into the canal.
Drenched and bewildered, Mary nodded weakly as I got down on one knee for the second time that day.
Mark Farley writes novels, flash fiction, and the occasional poem. Find him on twitter at @mumbletoes.
The blind date was at a charming French restaurant. They had a wonderful dinner: foie gras, lobster, and crème brülée, while they drank a bottle of Château Lafite 1787, everything requested by him to celebrate that magic moment.
Afterwards, he asked her to pay the bill; he’d forgotten his wallet.
Claudia Ramalho is Brazilian and is in the upper intermediate English level (B2).
Two brothers shared a toupee. It was a lady magnet.
“The rug’s mine tonight,” Fred said.
“Okay,” said Ed.
He had plans of his own, though. When Fred wasn’t looking, Ed departed, with toupee atop.
Fred was furious.
Ed got the girl. But beneath her wig she was entirely hairless.
As a follow-up to her frivolous and fun career in broadcasting, Sally Basmajian is working on a variety of writing projects. She has won a few prizes for short fiction and creative non-fiction, and has recently completed a fantasy novel for young adults.
Steps creaked. The house was foreboding.
I wouldn’t have come, but my brother said She would meet me here.
As I rubbed the dirt aside to peer in the window, a bloodcurdling screech sounded behind me. Adrenaline shot through me. I jumped and whirled, fist connecting.
My brother lay unmoving.
Trina Krieger is an artist struggling to write her memoir. When the process gets overwhelming, she writes urban fantasy instead.
“My favourite whisky’s Chivas Regal,” the man said proudly.
The bartender silently poured him a glass. The man swallowed it. “Great taste!” he said, and went away.
As usual, the bartender quickly refilled the bottle with a cheaper whisky, and reflected on how easy it is to make someone happy.
Virginio is an Italian student of the English language. He likes writing stories in English and sometimes playing with rhymes.
The Tooth Fairy had visited and left $5 for that first tooth. Later, Chloe wrote this note, all phonetically:
“Dear Tooth Fairy,
You took my tooth, but you didn’t leave any money. Please leave it tonight.
She winked me a smile. “Tooth Fairy’s so busy, she won’t remember!”
Barbara Comstock teaches English Language Arts in middle school and is easily amused.
“Earth shattering.” – “Sheer madness.” – “Yearbook material.”
Those were the words which described the Cannesville Cows mascot’s triple-spin double-somersault slam dunk during the pre-game show, the first time in the history of the school.
Unfortunately for Kyle, it was also the first time the mascot had been stretchered into an ambulance.
Joey wasn’t interested in writing while at school but has been writing on his own in recent years, mostly to amuse himself. He has been published at The Story Shack and Needle In The Hay. He likes roast cows but dislikes trampolines.
“One last thing, Officer Markham.”
“Look out for youths wearing baggy trousers. That’s the mark of the Hooligans’ Club!”
“Yes, sir!” Markham strode off on patrol.
The Captain chuckled. Rookies were so gullible!
He felt differently later, while processing the paperwork for seventeen wrongful arrests of baggy-trousered teenagers.
This story is based on the title suggested by Nicholas Barlow.