Showing posts with label 52week Flash Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 52week Flash Fiction. Show all posts

Monday, August 17, 2015

The Whisker Brings The Rain- Flash Fiction


tower
Henry craned his neck to stare out the window as Fred landed their ship on Unaris, the 2nd planet in orbit around a set of binary stars. Gloria had been here once before so instead of peering out the window with her crewmates she sat going over the scans of the ruins below.

 Henry threw off his harness and patted Gloria’s shoulder he passed her on his way to the airlock. 

“Well, if we are going to get this planet ready in time then we better get moving,” Henry said with a shrug.

Gloria sighed. ‘I am not looking forward to this.’ 

Due to the lighter gravity the three of them hopped lightly over the dry grassy field towards the ruins. Unaris had oxygen so they didn’t need their suits, but the air was dry and stale. Fred stopped a moment to take a drink from his water bottle.

 “You might want to conserve as much of that as you can,” Gloria said, pausing to watch him take in another big gulp of water. “The rain system could be on the other side of the planet, by the looks of things it hasn’t rained here in a while.”

 “Isn’t that your job, Whisker? To get the rain to come back?” Fred said with a chuckle.

 Gloria narrowed her eyes at him and sighed. “It’s not that simple,”

“What does the machine feel like when it turns on Gloria?” Henry asked curiously as they walked up the dusty metallic steps into a giant metal tower.

 Whoever had lived here had long since moved on. Buildings farther down from the tower were either caved in or over grown by thick dead plants.

 Gloria gulped, she really didn’t want to think about how it felt.

 “It’s a little creepy, the machine transmits impressions from the designers. It helps you feel what the planet needs and where it needs it.” Gloria answered. 

“Man that is creepy.” Henry said shuddering.

 At the top of the tower a giant machine stood in a roofless room. The machine held huge metal prongs pointed high into the sky above them. Taking a deep breath Gloria climbed into the odd control chair. At her touch the machine lit up, recognizing a living being’s electrical impulses again after so many years. A metal band lowered around her forehead and after one last thumbs up to Henry and Fred she closed her eyes.

 In her mind images of the world around her invaded her mind. Memories of the world as it once was, as well as its current state. She could see the rain system, stalled out over the western ocean. She could see the air currents, barely moving due to the lack of convection from the suns. Something inside her felt the designer’s intentions.

 ‘Bring life back.’ 

 Gloria waved her mental hand over her spot on the globe floating in her mind. Vibrations shook the machine gently as the metal prongs came to life, stirring the air into motion.



**Photo Credit: via photopin (license)


This post was part of the 52 week flash fiction challenge on facebook (somehow I never hit publish here on my blog so it is a bit late.)
Week 9 word prompt: Whisker
Word Limit: 20- 500
This one tops out right at 500 words.

Readers: Would you like to have the whisker's job of keeping the planet's weather system going? Do you think it would be stressful or peaceful? What do you think would be your favorite weather system to control?

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Rocks Are Not Alive- Flash Fiction

MB Balances RocksEdward knelt, trying to console his crying son. Jacob held his knee and rocked back and forth, tears making streaks down his dusty cheeks.

 “Son, I told you not to run out here, there are too many rocks.” Edward said, carefully trying to hold his voice steady. 

A trail of blood ran down Jacob’s knee and pooled around the rock beside him.

 “Jacob, please let me see your knee. I can’t stop the bleeding until you let me see your knee!” Edward pulled his son’s bloody hands away from his knee.

 Pulling out a cloth from his pocket he wiped away the blood only to realize that his son’s knee wasn’t even cut. Sure, a little red maybe... but there was no injury to be seen.

 “Odd.” Edward looked at the pool of blood that had collected around the rock. “Jacob, can you tell me what happened?” 

“I... tripped, on that rock, coming up the hill.” Jacob said between sniffles.

 Edward picked up Jacob’s foot and inspected every inch of his leg.

 “Nope no injury.” He commented matter of factually, tousling his son’s dusty hair. “Slow down, next time ok.”

 “But dad, where did the blood come from then if it wasn’t mine?”

 “Did you notice it on the ground on your way up here?” Edward asked. Jacob shook his head. 

“Hmm... maybe we should take some of the blood back to your mom, there’s some on this rock here.” Edward passed the rock to Jacob who held it gingerly with disgust. “Mom can put it through the scanner and figure out where the blood came from.”
---

 Back at the campsite Edward’s wife had set up a laboratory in one of the big orange tents. Recon had sent them to catalog the species indigenous to the planet to see if it was a candidate for terraforming. Edward placed the blood drizzled rock on a plate and slid it across the table to his wife who was intently peering into a microscope.

 “Take a look at this honey. This is the oddest thing I have seen in a long time.” Edward said, waving his hand under the microscope to get his wife’s attention.

 Marrisa eyed the rock out of the corner of her eye and rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You and your rocks! Must you bring them in here? And what’s up with the bloody mess all over it anyhow?”

“Thats what I wanted you to see! I just ran a few tests on it. The bleed is coming from the rock!” Edward explained.

 “Rocks don’t bleed dear.” Marrisa said chuckling, “It’s probably Jacob playing a joke on you again.”
“Watch.” Edward insisted. He picked up the rock and gently wiped it clean with a soft cloth.

The rock clinked against the plate as he set it down once again. Marrisa eyed him suspiciously. Then suddenly she heard it!

Marrisa’s eyes widened in shock as she realized a delicate song was coming from the rock. Almost as if in gratitude.



photo credit: MB Balances Rocks via photopin (license) 


This post is part of the 52 week flash fiction challenge on facebook
Week 7 word prompt: Bleed
Word Limit: 20- 500
This one tops out right at 500 words.

This one is a bit late (was due last friday) but I took a bit of a break after the AtoZchallenge to catch my bearings again.
Readers: How do you think you would react if you were suddenly faced with real life aliens? Would you be shocked? Scared? Would you panic? What if the aliens were part of the very ground you were walking on?

Saturday, April 25, 2015

U: What is an Umbilical Cord- Flash Fiction

Mui ne -  Sanddüne
Christy sat on the cool rock under the shade of a strange tree. Her friend’s spaceship burning in the distance. The crash had done it, she knew it had. Far away from any birthing center and on an uninhabited planet no less.

 The tightening pains were every 4 minutes or so. Her friend dragged a piece of metal piled with everything she could salvage from the wreck.

 “Janice do you think the baby will be ok?” Christy mumbled through gritted teeth.

 “He should be old enough to survive birth, yeah,” Janice answered.

 “Did it hurt this much when you had Daren? What was it like?” Christy asked, begging Janice to distract her.

 Janice looked worriedly at their surroundings, at their meager pile of equipment, and then to Christy’s swollen tummy hidden under the floral print of Christy’s dress.

 “I didn’t have any pain at all, I checked in at the birthing center. They took care of all that. I lay down and mostly just daydreamed... watched a few vids... a few hours later looked up to see my little Daren in the nurse’s arms.”

 Christy gulped and gritted her teeth again as another particularly strong wave of pain cascaded over her.

 “Do you think something is wrong? Is it supposed to feel like this?”

 “I dunno, we were just told to go to the birthing center at a certain number of days.” Janice knelt down beside Christy and felt her tummy, “My grandmother told me that birthing used to be different but she never explained it.”

 Janice unlaced Christy’s boots and invited her to put her feet in the sand to help keep her cool. A gentle breeze blew the soft sand and the hem of her dress soothingly around her ankles. Christy let her mind wander through the swaying of the leaves in the tree above her as she rode through each new wave of pain.

 Suddenly Christy’s watch beeped at her shaking her from her zone. Irritated she unclasped it and threw it out from under the tree and into the sand before heading back into the solace of the swaying branches. Janice jumped up and chased after the watch, brushing off the sand.

 “Hello! Hello!” She cried. “Yes, Kipling 1 we heard your distress call. Do you need assistance?” A voice called over the watch through the static.

 “Janice!!!” Christy cried out loudly, arching her back with a particularly large contraction.

 “Yes, I need to get my friend to a birthing center immediately!” Janice answered in a panic.

 “Ma’am, from the sounds of things it is a bit too late for that. The baby is coming already. You have two things to remember:
  •  Keep momma comfortable 
  • And tie off the umbilical cord so the baby doesn’t bleed to death."
 Janice looked at her friend in fear. Why oh WHY didn’t they teach you how to do this in parenting classes! What in the universe is an umbilical cord!


->photo credit: Mui ne - Sanddüne - Vietnam via photopin (license) <-



Today's post was also inspired by the letter U. U is for: Umbilical   as part of the Blogging from A to Z April 2015 challenge! Click on the letter to join on in the fun!

Every day (excluding sundays) I will be writing a post about something that begins with the letter for that day. Most of the time you will find a sci-fi flash fiction piece here.

This post is ALSO part of the 52 week flash fiction challenge on facebook
Week 5 word prompt: Bleed
Word Limit: 20- 500
This one tops out right at  491 words.

For Readers: I was trying to capture a moment in time where certain things we learn today might be missed as our technology advances if we don't continue to pass down the "old ways".  What are some things now that we have "forgotten" how to do because we have technology? Do you think we can do without those lessons or do you think they are still important?

Saturday, April 18, 2015

P: Catalaide's Purple Miracle- Flash Fiction

ShawlThe running lights of Catalaide Station glittered off of the shimmering rings of dust that encircled Saturn. A shining diamond in a sea of glitter. Ignoring the view, Inspector Cade poured over his reports while his ship docked with the station. The ‘blessed station’ is what the locals called it. Its reputation was reaching so far that shuttle tickets to get here had reached astronomical prices. His job was to find out why.

 Ignoring his pilot’s protests on social courtesies, Inspector Cade picked up his briefcase and left the shuttle as soon as the airlock seal hissed. He learned long ago that he would find out more about a place than he would if he had announced his arrival. He turned down a short hallway and headed toward the center of the station. As he neared the elevator doors he brushed the wrinkles out of his jacket, straightened his tie, and looked at his watch.

 Great! I’m late! 

 The elevator took him down to level 7. Deep organ music trickled in through the doors and Cade took a deep preparing breath before the doors swished open. Light, music, singing and prayers filled the room that Inspector Cade walked into. Hundreds of people and no chairs, or aisles. Cade politely made his way to the front of the room to see what all the commotion was about.

 He couldn't believe what he saw as he neared the front of the throng. A purple shawl, surrounded by fog, hung in midair swaying ever so slightly. No one was holding it, no one touched it.

 “This is what people are paying their entire life’s wages to come see?” Inspector Cade asked a woman to his left. 

“Oh yes Sir! Isn't it amazing? It’s a miracle!” The spry young woman responded.

 “Is it always there or does someone take it down?” Inspector Cade prodded.

 “Oh no sir! No one touches it,” The woman answered, her blonde curls swaying as she shook her head in objection to his question. “It disappears before lunch and doesn't come back till next Sunday.”

 Inspector Cade looked around the room and noticed a large mirror hanging above the elevator doors.

 What an odd place to put a mirror.

 He stayed there till almost noon watching the purple shawl floating in the fog. Inspector Cade walked around the room, talking to different people, asking questions about the shawl. A few mentioned some rumors of miracles that had happened in the room, but most said the same thing. The fog collects, the shawl appears and stays for a few hours and then disappears again right before the fog dissipates.

 Convenient. Inspector Cade considered the location of the mirror again.

 Later after the fog had dissipated and the people all left the Inspector turned off his gravity boots and floated up to inspect the ceiling. It wasn't long before he found the small projector unit aimed down at the mirror.

 Just as I suspected... it’s all an illusion!




Today's post was inspired by the letter P. P is for: Purple  as part of the Blogging from A to Z April 2015 challenge! Click on the letter to join on in the fun!

Every day (excluding sundays) I will be writing a post about something that begins with the letter for that day. Most of the time you will find a sci-fi flash fiction piece here.



This post is ALSO part of the 52 week flash fiction challenge on facebook
Week 4 word prompt: Shawl
Word Limit: 20- 500
This one tops out right at 496 words.

Thanks for reading!

For Readers:  Would you expose the illusion or would you let the people continue in their delusion?


-> photo credit: Shawl via photopin (license) <-

Thursday, April 16, 2015

N: Nine Pizzas - Flash Fiction

Village Pizzeria Pizza
"My very educated mother just served us nine pizzas, they are waiting upstairs in the dinning room."

Fred paused the game on the xbox before looking up at Andrew in confusion.

"There's only two of us, how come she bought nine?"


Andrew shrugged before plopping down on the couch beside Fred and taking over the second controller.

"Don't let her hear you complain but apparently mom is in rebellion over the whole, Pluto no longer being a planet thing."


->photo credit: Village Pizzeria Pizza via photopin (license) <-



This is 5 Sentence Fiction. Originally started by Lillie McFerrin, today I chose to find a picture and use a word of my own.


Today's post was also inspired by the letter N. N is for: Nine  as part of the Blogging from A to Z April 2015 challenge! Click on the letter to join on in the fun!

Every day (excluding sundays) I will be writing a post about something that begins with the letter for that day. Most of the time you will find a sci-fi flash fiction piece here.



For Readers:  Were you upset over Pluto not being a planet? What sorts of Pizza do you like?

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

L: Litter In Space- flash fiction

UFO flies near ISS as Russian astronaut space walks on CNN news cast, UFO Sighting news. May 2011.
Matt fired the thrusters on his ship just for the briefest of moments. His locating equipment was warning him of an object just to his right.

 Why can’t I see it!

 As his ship slowly floated into position the magnification raised on his screen revealing the tiny shiny metal object. Matt used the mechanical arm attached to his ship to pluck the tiny metal object out of space. Turning the object back and forth in front of his window he realized that the darn thing was a screw! Matt groaned in irritation before using the arm to tuck the bolt safely into a compartment in the side of the ship.

 Space litter was a problem for all ships. One tiny bolt colliding with a moving ship was the equivalent of a bullet being fired at the ship at point blank range. Many crews and many ships had been lost to these disasters, spilling more debris out into space.

A few months ago, Matt had suggested to his father that someone should go out there and pick up all that litter. 

Matt rolled his eyes. How did this become my job?


->photo credit: 3rd UFO Sighting around Shuttle Endeavor since May 16th launch date, Video. via photopin (license) <-



Today's post was also inspired by the letter L. L is for: Litter   as part of the Blogging from A to Z April 2015 challenge! Click on the letter to join on in the fun!

Every day (excluding sundays) I will be writing a post about something that begins with the letter for that day. Most of the time you will find a sci-fi flash fiction piece here.



For Readers: Though this is fictional there really is over 19,000 pieces of space debris floating in Earth orbit being tracked by NASA. They have to prepare flight plans to keep any vehicles from being hit by it or it could severely damage the ship.

So... what say you? Should we go up there and collect it all- or wait decades till it all falls/burns back to Earth (as it will eventually)?

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

K: Kids In Boxes- Flash Fiction

Untitled
Every few months Sandra would sadly look through her daughter’s report cards. Failing grades, always failing grades.

 “Whats going on, honey?” Sandra asks her barely responsive daughter. “Do you not understand what the teacher is saying?”

 The little girl shrugs, “I listen,” is all she says.

 Teacher meetings come and go, new goals are placed. They are never reached. Farther and farther her daughter falls behind and still they push her to the next grade.

 “She can sit in class and participate in the work; she gets some of them right.” The teachers say proudly.

 “But she’s not passing the tests and her grades are horrid.” Her mom points out.

 “Oh, but she’s come so far.”

 Picture a world that you can not understand. Picture a world in which everyone who tries explaining things sounds a lot like Einstein. It is in this world that Tiffany is trapped.

 A new textbook, more words she can not understand. She floats by because she can at least read the words. She dare not ask questions because she can’t figure out how to explain what she isn't understanding. Everyone else understands it, why can’t she.

 Tiffany starts to wonder if it’s her.

 “The kids ask how I got here, if I’m so dumb.” Tiffany tells her mom.

 “You are not dumb, honey, your brain just learns at a different pace then theirs do.” Sandra explains while trying not to cry.

 Years have gone by. One step forward and two steps back. They have no explanation, they have no reasons why she should be struggling.

 More tests paint a dismal picture and new suggestions that don’t help.

 A kid in a teen’s body, desperate to learn, but bottled up inside. Trapped by her mind’s deficiencies; she’s left with just muddling through.

 The potential is there, if only she could... remember... if only she could... understand.





Today's post was also inspired by the letter K. K is for: Kids  as part of the Blogging from A to Z April 2015 challenge! Click on the letter to join on in the fun!

Every day (excluding sundays) I will be writing a post about something that begins with the letter for that day. Most of the time you will find a sci-fi flash fiction piece here.



For Readers: Sorry... I don't really have a question for you today. Tomorrow shall be a cheerier post though ;)

Friday, April 3, 2015

C: Captains Copper Pot- Flash Fiction

turkish coffee pot
photo credit: turkish coffee pot via photopin (license)
The hatch hissed as the seal between the station and the Nebre opened allowing our two new passengers to cross the threshhold.

“Welcome onto the Nebre,” I said. “My name is Perry, I’m the co-pilot. This here is our ship’s doctor, Thorton.”

“Nice to meet you sir, I’m Colin Whithers, this is my wife Lauren.”

By the way she clung to her husbands arm, the man’s wife looked very intimidated by the Nebre. I shook 
Colin’s hand and nodded politely to his wife.

“The Nebre is the safest ship around. She’ll get you to Andromeda in one piece Ma’am.”

A familiar whistling to my left alerted me that my captain was headed this way. Mrs. Whithers gasped as she saw the captain for the first time.

“Is there something wrong with your captain?” She whispered to Dr. Thorton.

“Now why would you think that?” My captain said, gallantly tipping his hat and bowing to his newest guests.

“Well, why are you wearing that on your head sir?” Mrs. Whithers asked pointing to my captain’s hat.

“Ma’am this has been passed down in my family for years.” My captain replied flashing Mrs. Whithers a smooth smile. ““Make yourselves at home, we should be nearing Andromeda in the morning.”

The captain tipped his hat once again and headed back to the front of the ship.


“Did you really have to ask the captain about his ‘choice of headwear’?” Collen asked his wife once they were behind the closed door of their quarters.

Lauren cocked her head at her husband.

“Didn’t you think it was odd!” Lauren asked before placing her suitcase in the corner locker.
Collen shrugged.

“What the man chooses to wear doesn’t bother me.” Collen answered. “What difference does it make?”

“Um, because he might just be nuts and he’s the one flying this ship!” Lauren answered.

Collen shoved his bag in beside his wife’s in the locker before turning to look at her.

“I’m hungry, do you want to go get something to eat?”

Lauren shrugged with a long sigh and a roll of her eyes and followed her husband down to the Galley.

Inside they found an old style kitchen stove and a long wooden table.

“Huh.” Lauren said.

Collen looked through the cabinet above the stove and found a dehydrated bag of beans and franks.
Lauren grabbed a pot from the table, filled it with water and dumped in the beans and franks.
Within minutes the aroma had filled the Galley.

“Wow that smells good! Is there enough for one more?” The captain asked as he entered the room.

“Sure!” Lauren replied, setting the pot onto the table for everyone to enjoy.

“Why are there beans in my hat?” The captain asked eyeing his steaming hat on the table.

“Sir, It’s not a hat its a copper pot!” Lauren objected.


“Oh, I know that!” The captain said with a wink. “The beans should be in our bowls not in my hat!”






Today's post was inspired by the letter C. C is for: Copper Pot  as part of the Blogging from A to Z April 2015 challenge! Click on the letter to join on in the fun!

Every day (excluding sundays) I will be writing a post about something that begins with the letter for that day. Most of the time you will find a sci-fi flash fiction piece here.



This post is ALSO part of the 52 week flash fiction challenge on facebook
Week 2 word prompt: Pot
Word Limit: 20- 500
This one tops out right at 494 words.

For Readers: What other things would you be willing to use a pot for besides cooking? Could you wear one like our eccentric captain here?

Thursday, April 2, 2015

B: Bedtime In Space- Flash Fiction

sleeping bag
photo credit: P1070326 via photopin (license)
The end of a long day, it's finally bedtime, Andrea floated over to her sleeping bag on the side of the space station.

"I'm ready for a good nights sleep!" Jack said, zipping himself into the sleeping bag on the opposite wall.

He was asleep within minutes.
Andrea hung inside her sleeping bag trying to calm her restless mind, trying to get comfortable.

I liked sleeping on my stomach on earth, maybe it would help if I turned towards the wall.

Andrea turned over inside her sleeping bag just to realize that the problem wasn't the way she was turned but more because she didn't have the bed to snuggle onto or the blankets weight around her. They had warned her that the first night could be like this. They had even sent her and Jack with medicine to help them get to sleep.

Mom always told me, if you start down that path you run the risk of always needing pills to get to sleep. But what do I do!

Andrea thought for a few minutes, examining her surroundings. Lights from various control panels blinked softly back at her and a few objects still floated around the room. A pen still tied to it's string had come unvelcroed from its place on the wall, and apparently one of her socks had managed to get left behind when she packed away the day's laundry.

UGH, maybe that's why I can't sleep. Aundrea thought.

She unzipped her sleeping bag and floated over to the pen and sock putting both of them back where they belonged. As she shut the sock back inside the clothes cabinet she suddenly came up with an idea.

Maybe it is the weight of the blankets I am missing which is why I can't get comfortable enough to fall asleep!

Andrea floated up to her clean laundry cabinet and dragged out a few shirts and pairs of cloth pants. She pushed them over to her sleeping bag and zipped herself halfway in. She stuffed her pants and shirts down inside the bag and around the inside of the sleeping bag's hood before zipping the bag back up around her.

AH! Andrea rubbed her face against the shirt balled up beside her head. This is more like it!

Within moments she was fast asleep.

Andrea woke to Jack's laughter the next morning.

"What's all this?"

Andrea looked him over through bleary eyes.

"How did you sleep?" She asked.

"The meds got me to sleep but I kept waking up all night." Jack admitted. "This sleeping in space business is going to take some getting used to."

"Well I may look like the stay puffed marshmellow man, but I slept great last night!" Andrea said with a cheeky smile.

Andrea unzipped her sleeping bag and unleashed all her shirts and pants to float through the cabin as she pushed away from the wall.

"It may look silly but I might just have to try that tonight." Jack laughed.




Today's post was inspired by the letter B. B is for: Bedtime  as part of the Blogging from A to Z April 2015 challenge! Click on the letter to join on in the fun!

Every day (excluding sundays) I will be writing a post about something that begins with the letter for that day. Most of the time you will find a sci-fi flash fiction piece here.





For Readers: What do you do to help you get to sleep in a new environment? 


Here's some fellow bloggers I have visited today:

B is for Book Characters or Blackmyst 

B: Beethoven’s fifth- the meaning behind the music

All Things Geeky

B is for Boxers (no not those kind of boxers)

A is for Aussies


Stop by and leave some encouragement! This blogging challenge can be very daunting!

Friday, March 27, 2015

Do Aliens Exist?- Flash Fiction

PhoTones Works #2996
photo credit: PhoTones Works #2996 via photopin (license)
“How can you be a Christian and not believe that aliens could exist!”

Crystal remembered rolling her eyes at her brother’s sermon. He was a man of great faith, the leader of the Jupiter station congregation. She, well she just knew that she believed that God existed and didn’t really want to think very much further about it all.

She stepped closer to the inhuman drawings carved into, and covering the entire length of the cave wall, every step sending tiny billows of lunar dust rippling away from her.

How come?” She remembered demanding in defiance. “The bible doesn’t say anything about aliens!”

The bible doesn’t say anything about airplanes either, or space ships, now does it!” Jacob had argued back.

He knew she would just see that as him deflecting from her comment.

You know what I mean Jacob! Be serious. If God created aliens why have we not seen them?”

Crystal, we aren’t supposed to know why God does what he does. Perhaps the aliens are so far out there that they can’t reach us. Perhaps God wants them to develop without us influencing them. Perhaps he doesn’t think we are ready yet.”

Huh! That’s a lot of perhaps’ Jacob! More fact and less speculation! Our scientists have been hunting for signs of intelligent life out here for eons and still nothing!”

Her triumphant yet combative tone from that comment rung in her memory and left a bitter taste in her mouth now. Crystal reached out and touched a portion of the cave image that seemed to be carved in a much harsher method than the rest.

Suddenly the walls lit up around her, and the dust blew away to reveal a perfectly smooth glassy black floor. The hair on her arms tingled as though she was covered by static electricity. Terror coursed through her as she realized that she couldn’t move.

The last words from her brother’s sermon echoed in her mind, “If God created us, who are we to say that he didn’t create other beings on some other far away planet?”

Footsteps echoing from somewhere deeper in the cave sent Crystal’s mind whirling and her heart pounding.

What do I say?
What could I say!
There’s no possible way they could know earth standard! You just HAD to go exploring on your own didn't you Crystal!

Crystal gasped for air.

Come on Crystal! Get a grip! You know your space suit still has oxygen. Breathe! 

The approaching footsteps suddenly sounded so close and they changed from dull thuds to clinks from the newcomer’s feet touching the now smooth floor. Crystal’s lungs finally gave up when the newcomer placed a blue four fingered hand on the shoulder of her suit. She static field released her before she was ready. She crumpled to the ground...

Perhaps Jacob was right, we aren’t ready yet. Was Crystal’s last thought before she fell unconscious.




This post is part of the 52 week flash fiction challenge on facebook
Week 2 word prompt: Sermon
Word Limit: 20- 500
This one tops out right at 487 words.

Readers: How do you think you would react if you were suddenly faced with real life aliens? Would you be shocked? Scared? Would you panic? How would you communicate with them?

Friday, March 13, 2015

More Money For Better Quality- Flash Fiction

photo credit: Bounty Basic Paper Towels via photopin (license)
The Nightingale sat powered down in the bay of one of the richest trading hubs in the galaxy. All the top quality murch came through here. The loading bay area was filled with a dozen or so ships with their crews all rushing around to get their purchases loaded and ready for transport. Fine clothing, colorful packages, and glittering jeweled trunks added a kaleidoscope of color to the otherwise metallic gray of the loading bay. Fragrant spices, scintillating perfumes, and fresh flowers all filled the bay with their amazing aromas. At the bottom of the Nightingale’s ramp, however, sat an entire pallet of paper towels.

Craig, the Nightingale’s captain, carried each large package of paper towels up the ramp into his ship and set them down gently in the farthest corner of the cargo bay. His copilot stood at the bottom of the ramp shaking his head incredulously.

“Craig, man, just toss em in! We can organize them once we are in route to Jupiter station.”

“I paid half this week's credits for these! There’s no way I’m just tossing them in!”

“Why don’t you just let the forklift bring the whole pallet onboard instead of taking them one at a friggin time?”

“The wood from the pallet would just add to our weight!” Craig answered on his way back from bringing the last package onboard.

The two men stood beside the cargo door and simultaneously turned the wheels to raise the ramp.

The door hissed and sealed shut.

“But why paper towels? I just don’t get it! What’s so special about these paper towels? Paper towels come standard in the ration packs.” Craig’s copilot said.

“Jimmy, they’re for my old lady. Every month, before I head out, I ask her what she wants me to bring back. She could ask for anything, a necklace, a special perfume... but no- she asks for Bounty Basic paper towels.”

The two men headed back up the cargo bay, through a set of double doors and into the cockpit.

“Why these ones though?” Jimmy asked.

Craig took his seat and began flicking on the various switches on the dashboard.

“Engine’s reading fine, fuel’s at 480,” Jimmy read off the instrument panel dials while waiting for a response to his question.

“I leave her for a whole month at a time every other month. The least I can do is try to bring her what she wants when I come home. Apparently these paper towels work much better than the standard ration ones.” Craig answered with a sideways glance at Jimmy.

“What, do they, like, have cleaner embedded in them or something?” Jimmy asked while flicking some switches on his own side of the dash.

Craig chuckled. “All engines go. Signaling loading bay doors.”

“Nope, dude all they do is soak up more liquid. They are a bit more sturdy if you have to scrub something. That’s it.” Craig answered.

“Well, if it makes the wife happy.” Jimmy shrugged, “Who am I to disagree!”

This post is part of the 52 week flash fiction challenge on facebook
Week 2 word prompt: Basic
Word Limit: 20- 500
This one tops out right at 500 words.

Readers: What would YOU bring home, after being gone for a month, that would make your wife or husband happy?

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Memories in the Wind- Flash Fiction

dream catcher
Photo credit: old story | via photopin (license)
Dreea swiped at a tickle on her chin only to find it wet with her own tears. She sniffed back further tears in shock as she considered her surroundings carefully. She remembered the crash, remembered him dying in her arms. She remembered the explosion that consumed the ship along with the body of the man she loved before sending her sprawling onto the rocky ground.

 She slowly sat up in the bed, wiping the tears from her eyes before tentatively feeling the bandage across her forehead. She didn’t remember coming here, she didn’t remember this place at all.

 “Hello?” Dreea called out with a dry voice.

 No one answered. Dreea decided that she’d better figure out if she was a guest or prisoner. She slowly made her way across the room, noting that almost every muscle in her body ached along with the emptiness she felt deep in her chest.

 Trying the handle on the metal door she found that it swung easily on its hinges and allowed the sun to pour into the small room. Dreea peered through the sunlight and stepped out into the gray dusty road in front of her. A tinkling sound drew her attention across the street to a pole hanging above the door across from her.

 A few moments passed before someone approached Dreea. She paid just enough attention to tell that the alien wasn’t armed before turning again to the object twisting in the wind.

 “What is that?” Dreea asked the scaly creature waiting patiently by her side.

 The alien reached into a pocket into its apron and pulled out a box that translated its answer.

 “The family lost an elderly one, the mobile tells their loved one’s story.” The computerized voice responded. “Her favorite place was among the trees in the growing place. She loved to sing and to feel the wind. Her son and daughter decorated this to hang in memory of her.”

Dreea’s eyes swam with tears and the ache in her chest swelled as she considered the imagery that could tell her dearest’s story. A constellation of stars, his mission patch, and the image of the sailboat from his favorite book. Maybe some blue and silver ribbons, and the buttons from his favorite shirt.

The alien touched her injured arm gently.

 “I saw your burning ship. Would you like to make one?” The translated voice said.

 No longer able to hold them back, her tears poured from her eyes and dripped to the rocky ground beneath her feet.

 “Yes please,” Dreea mumbled.


This post is part of the 52 week flash fiction challenge on facebook
Week 52 word prompt: Story
Word Limit: 20- 500
Word Count: 423

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

The Planet Of Perpetual Twilight- Flash Fiction

rocky landscape
photo credit: We are Fires in the Night! via photopin (license)
Nellie walked along the rocky terrain, peering through the darkness, watching the horizon carefully. It had been almost three months since she came to Nostra with the main research team. Not once had they seen so much as a sunrise.

As far as her eye could see, all she saw were rocks and short mountains. Members of her team had gone out on many treks this past year and that's all they ever found, more rocks and more mountains. A cool breeze tickled softly past her neck, blowing her short hair back ever so slightly.

She shivered. This whole planet gives me the creeps!

Sure, they found water here, but you had to dig a well to get to it. As for light, the one essential thing for plant growth, the cloud cover was dense enough to block out most of the light here. The team resorted to using artificial light sources to help break up the perpetual twilight. That is, when the daily solar flares weren’t interrupting their power sources.

Just a few more months! I’ll be happy to get off this rock!

"Have you seen them yet?" A colleague asked, striding up behind her.

"No, Alexi, I haven't. Any word on the radio?" Nellie asked.

"No, the radio is down again." Alexi answered.

"Ugh, go figure." Nellie rubbed her hands over her sleeves vigorously to fight off the chill.

All of their clothes were made with built in thermal materials designed to keep Earth's arctic winds out. Yet here, where the temperature was barely below 65, a slight breeze could chill you to the bone in no time.

What I wouldn't do for a hot summer beach and a margarita right now!

"Go on in and warm up, I'll keep watch." Alexi suggested.
Nellie turned to walk toward their base camp. She’d only made it half way when the breeze came through again. This time, she thought she felt icy cold fingers brush past the side of her neck. She whirled back toward Alexi in shock.

She saw him, at the bottom of their little hill, right where she left him.

Um Alexi,” She called out.

Yeah, what is it?” He called back without turning towards her.

Nothing, I just...”

The breeze came again.

This time Nellie could have sworn it felt like she had been shoved. She landed on her backside, rocks skittering away from her.

Nellie quit fooling around!” Alexi groaned.

I’m not. I...” She stuttered.

Nellie stood and brushed herself off.

This time it was Alexi’s turn to be knocked off his feet.

But how could Alexi be knocked down by the wind and she didn’t feel even a breeze this time?

Wispy streams of light appeared between them, seemingly floating on the wind. As Alexi stood up the streams of light bowled him back to the ground. He sat up wide eyed and waved at Nellie to run.


Either this planet doesn’t want us here or something is here with us!”



This post is part of the 52 week flash fiction challenge on facebook
Week 50 word prompt: Haunted
Word Limit: 20- 500

Yep I started the challenge late but it looked too fun not to jump right on in.

This one tops out right at 497 words.