Tag Archives: Flash Fiction

Farce

From My Brain to Yours, Political Ass-Ass-ination, Universal Coverage - In a Bad Way, ,
angrysocialmediamob
“Borrowed” from digidickinson.net – It suited the sentiment too well not to appropriate the image.

Rarely am I inspired by a one-word prompt. Then again, rarely does one word so aptly describe how life feels lately.

FARCE

What I have to say matters.

(Lie)

Politicians feign concern during election years and then they strip health care exposing the bones of their conscience.

Diseased carcasses wearing red, white, and blue lies.

If I could, I would curse them:

May syphilitic crabs feast on your crotch rot!

May you feel karma’s sweet kiss leaving you unprotected from your policies.

May you be forced to live the life of your poorest constituent.

May the bullet of public opinion find its target and kill your self-serving aspirations.

May curses come true.

FARCE*

Asterisk Bedazzled Footnote:

*Handy-dandy link to New York Times article which includes a list of the congressmen and women who voted for the recent ‘health care act’ to repeal and roll-back Medicaid expansion.

 

 

 

via Daily Prompt: Farce

A Totalling Tongue-in-Cheek take on Chuck Wendig’s Effing Good Flash Fiction Challenge for April 3

Writing, , ,

A Moving Experience

“Fuck-a-duck, that hurts.” She groaned.

 “Quit your whining, you asked me to put it in.” He said.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you were going to be so…” She trailed off.

“Forceful? Impressive? Noteworthy?” He said.

“Clumsy.” She said with a grimace. “There had to be an easier way.”

“Look, unless you wanted it to go in through the backdoor, this is the only way I know how to do it.” His voice peevish. “C’mon, my back’s about to fucking break here. Can we get a move on?”

“Fine.” She said. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ten sweaty, fucktastic minutes later…

“Finally!” She said, lying down and rubbing her thighs to ease muscles cramping from holding up so much weight. “That didn’t last as long as I worried. Do you want some money?”

“Your overwhelming gratitude is all the thanks I need.” He finished with a grunt, heaving his end up and then collapsing on the floor next to her. Panting, he rolled onto his side, adding. “And the next time you invite someone to help ‘move an organ in’, please be more specific.”

Most disappointing Craig's List ever!
MOST DISAPPOINTING CRAIG’S LIST AD EVER!!

Friday Fictioneers – All Systems Go!

Friday Fictioneers, ,

Every Friday, authors from around the world gather here to share their 100-words and offer constructive criticism and encouragement to each other. This creates a wonderful opportunity for free reading of very fresh fiction! Readers are encouraged to comment as well.  The prompt is from Marie Gail Stratford  For details, check out Rochelle Wisoff-Fields http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/09/10/12-september-2014/

Slapped together with much haste and little grace, I give you ALL SYSTEMS GO:

Glass Star Drive

“Gimme another.” Bob slurs.

“Give it up, captain.” Joe says, resigned.

“The engine needs fuel.” Bob glowers, his eyes pickled in red-rimmed sockets. “Jesh one more.”

“You still owe for last night…if we survive that is.”

“It’s almost calibrated.” Bob squints blearily. “Give me a blue one.”

Sighing, Joe twists open a Blue Moon and hands it over.

At the brightly-colored wall of empties, Bob studies the pattern. Draining his beer, Bob then shoves the last bottle in.

The sub-light engines whine as they come alive.

“I’ll be damned.” Handing Bob another beer, Joe adds, “This one’s on the house!”

Friday Fictioneers – Photo Prompt

Challenge Accepted, Friday Fictioneers, , , ,
House on Hill
PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright by Bjorn Rudberg

There is a house, hemmed by hundred-year-old forests.  It sits wedged at the crack where the mountain and the trees argue about property lines; each takes a small step here or there, reclaiming what was lost.  The crenellated highway cuts through and, playing referee, takes no sides. From the uppermost window you could see traffic zoom by.  Only birds know this was once a palace of an impoverished people.  Zigzag stairs dash haphazard footpaths—dizzying, transitory indecision leading nowhere.  And flower pots wait at the end of the world for owners who are never coming home.