Flash Fiction and Other Stories

By Jason Wallace

Get 7 stories for the price of none! 5 of these are flash fiction (stories written on the spot, based on a picture), while the last 2 are merely additional stories offered, just for you! Get 7 very short stories that are sure to give you something to think about and maybe even a few laughs or sighs. From humor to whimsically ridiculous to romance to strange non-fiction, get it all for nothing!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jason Wallace
• Release date: Aug 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311419941

Jason Wallace

Make sure to check out my other poetry at https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/jasonwallacepoetry. There are books on Amazon that are not shown here because they are offered through Kindle Unlimited. There are also books shown here that are not available on Amazon because they are free at all times. http://www.amazon.com/Jason-Wallace/e/B00JG37PVO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1399103321&sr=8-1 Jason Wallace is an Indie author from the Midwest, aspiring to bring his works to the masses and through this, bring joy into their lives. He has been writing for more than 20 years, mostly poetry, but since 2011, he has been writing novels and short stories, in various genres. Come check out my new page and see what's going on. https://www.facebook.com/thepageofauthorjasonwallace

Book preview

Flash Fiction and Other Stories

By Jason Wallace

Smashwords Edition

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Published by:

Jason Wallace on Smashwords

Flash Fiction and Other Stories

Copyright © 2015 by Jason Wallace

This Isn’t a Fairytale

*This is very short, but it was written, fully impromptu, on facebook, at a friend’s request, and was intended to be this short, as per the rules of the post.

As the woman stood in fixed awe of the seemingly virulent, crimson-cloaked figure, he, in turn, stood in awe of her stupidity. Bitch, this is not a fairytale! YOU ARE NOT A PRINCESS! THERE IS NO PRINCE CHARMING COMING TO SAVE YOU! GROW UP, AND OPEN YOUR DAMN EYES! By the way, if you're hungry, I have an apple.

Let’s Make This Believable

My story, Let's Make This Believable, entered in the Vol. 2-38 Flash! Friday writing contest. It didn't win, but here it is. The story had to be 160 words maximum, which is exactly what it is.

I plan to bring you many more short, flash stories in the near future, all free.

Let’s Make This Believable

It’s funny what the public will believe. With some well-trained actors, a crew of hundreds, some hard work, and just tens of millions of dollars for a sound stage, lighting, costumes, makeup, a few well-painted pieces of equipment, cameras, and a large tank of water, one can easily create decades of intense gullibility. Sure, a few might ask questions one day, but that was hardly the concern of those running the NASA film studio.

Let’s make this believable, Boys, the director shouted from his cloth-draped chair. He knew that he was special because his chair said, Director on it.

This is entirely uncomfortable, retorted Bob Billings as he bobbed up and down in the water.

The best stuff always is, answered the director with a smirk. Now, pretend you buy that ship in the background and all those clouds painted behind you.

Are we getting paid scale for this, demanded another actor.

Don’t make me laugh was all he heard.

A Letter from a Worn-out Husband

Dear Fellow Men,

My name is Sherman Jones. I'm hiding right now from my wife, and I'm afraid to venture out to find food. I hope that you find this message that I've attached to the foot of a pigeon I caught recently. If so, please leave something for me to eat at Harrison Park, near the fountains.

It all started nearly a week ago. I don't really remember too much of how it all began or what really happened. I know what occurred at the end and since and what I was told I did. I started to lose my mind, more and more as time passed. I imagined that I was lost on some deserted island somewhere, though I soon found out that it was not deserted at all, searching desperately for food and shelter and fending off many starved cannibals. As I wandered, to gain shelter and means of defending myself, I found myself climbing higher and higher upon what I could only determine was some mountain, though I did not get very high before a swarm of restless natives began to paw and pull at my legs, yelling at me in their strange language.

At last, I fell from my place on the mountain, tumbling and careening toward the rocky rubble below, soon laid out and seized upon by the angry inhabitants of that place. They quickly pulled me to my feet and started to yell more of their unintelligible