Flash Strikes Back: Quick Bites of Flash, #2

By Jon M. Jefferson

The Concept is simple. They give you a picture and a written prompt, and then it is up to you to write a 250-word story based on the prompts. So very simple and so incredibly hard all at the same time. There is heart ache, there is pain, there are stories that have more than 250 words in them. That is the concept from the Indies Unlimited flash fiction challenge.  

Within these pages you will find all sorts of stories ranging from romance, abject horror, and maybe even a little humor. Like a full course tasting menu, each new small bite brings a range of flavors to entice and excite.

One thing that you may notice for this installment that is slightly different than the previous year’s stories, these stories have broken some rules. The most obvious, some of these stories have gone over the 250-word limit. But even the ones that seem to have gone well over that limit, remain within the realm of flash fiction.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: 10th Day Publishing
• Release date: Sep 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781513042855

Jon M. Jefferson

Jon M. Jefferson writes Speculative fiction with forays into Noir and Bizarro. His stories have appeared in the 2013 Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Anthology, and the Foil and Phazer Divide and Conquer Anthology.  A longtime fan of Science Fiction and Fantasy stories in all their forms. He has spent most of his life looking for magic in the everyday moments of life. He hails from the tundra of Southwest Michigan. The monsters in his life include his wife, two daughters and growing grand kids.

Book preview

26 Dollar Gift

GEORGE WALKED THE HALLS of his old high school with the lavishly-wrapped package in hand. He'd seen it in the airport and immediately knew it would be the perfect gift for Mrs. Davies – his English teacher during his senior year. George grinned as he smoothed the lapel of his Armani suit. She'd told him he'd never amount to anything. He'd already proved her wrong, and then some. Now, he couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she saw him...and opened the gift. He knew the twenty-six dollar sign was going to be worth every penny...

HE CAUGHT HIS BREATH as he neared her classroom. The excitement and anticipation was a bit more than George had counted on. Mrs. Davies assessment of his abilities, well, the sting was still dug into him pretty deep.

The thing that hurt the worst though, the thing that still haunted him even now, she said it in front of not only the entire class that day, but in front of Stanley. Stanley and George had competed all through school to outdo each other. And when they crossed the stage at graduation, it had been Stanley Liebowitz that walked across as valedictorian.

But George had done well for himself. Built his company from scratch. His sprockets were selling their way to him being listed as one of the top 100 most eligible bachelors. George's Sprockets were a Fortune 500 movers and shakers company.

He stood at the door into Mrs. Davies room. An old poster covered the window, probably one of the motivational posters she put up every year. He held the handle tight and let out a heavy sigh. A quick knock and he didn't wait to be told to come in.

His eyes fell on the shrine before he saw anything else in the room. Stanley's picture surrounded by golden flowers sat on a small table near a window that looked out on the courtyard. He had beaten George yet again. Without a word he dropped the present on the table and walked out of the room.

Alien Deceit

WHEN ENSIGN SAMUELS materialized, she found herself standing outside this strange structure. The atmosphere seemed breathable, according to her handheld instrumentation. Breathable for her, anyway. There was no way of knowing what type of creature inhabited this planet.

Clearly something must have gone wrong with the coordinates; she arrived here by mistake. Then she recalled the look on Ensign Jeffries' face as he pushed the button to transport her to headquarters. You were both up for the same promotion. Maybe it wasn't such a mistake after all...

AS SAMUELS SCANNED the area, she knew that where ever she had ended up, she was far from home now. Dealing with Jeffries and his 'mistake' would have to wait.

No life signs had been picked up with her scanner but it was unable to penetrate through the odd surface, it didn't register the surface at all. The entire building appeared as a blank spot on her device. She circled around the perimeter of the structure in search of an entry point.

She found a gateway made of a glass like substance that dilated open as she approached. The interior of the building appeared to be a bit rustic, though on a level of technology at least approaching her own. Walls of computers blipped and blooped in conversations that didn't include her.

As she wandered the halls she began to see the pattern of the structures layout. Though she couldn't read the writing, there were a number of pictograms that she could follow. She followed the symbols toward what she hoped to be a vehicle bay and a way off this strange world.

It turned out that the symbols meant nothing of what she had thought they did. As she had searched for an escape, the roof lifted up and off of the structure. A giant hand reached inside and wrapped around her waist. The realization of the danger came to late when she looked in the eyes of the giant child.

And Your Little Dog

EVERY AFTERNOON AT three-thirty, Old Mr. Pritchard would lie down for his afternoon nap.

Every afternoon as soon as Mr. Pritchard fell asleep, bratty little Becky Vogel would ride down the street with her little dog, Yappers, in her bicycle basket.

Yappers would bark and bark and bark and bark. It was a horrible, shrill, bone-rattling bark that never failed to spoil Mr. Pritchard's nap. Oh, how he had come to hate that obnoxious little mutt.

One day, Mr. Pritchard had an idea...

BECKY COULDN'T CART her vile mutt around if she lost the basket to her bicycle. But it wouldn't be enough to take the basket. He had to do something more, something that would make her change her mind about how she traveled with that mutt.

Late at night through the cover of darkness he slipped through his neighbor's yards, over hedgerow and fence, to sneak his way to Becky's bike. It was there that he sliced through the wires of the basket, not all the way, but close, so very close. This would show her all right. When that mutt slipped through the bottom of the basket she would never ride with him on the bike again.

LIKE CLOCKWORK, MR. Pritchard had just fallen asleep but the yap yap yapping of that dog broke him out of his midday snooze. He rushed from the yard, through the house, and into his front yard, just as little Becky pedaled past his house. But that wasn't all he found. Parked at the curb were three squad cars and uniformed officers with their pistols and riot shotguns pointed at his chest.

Becky parked her bike and called to Mr. Pritchard. She pulled a camera and recorder out of the new basket on her bike and waved them at him. Without looking back she hopped back on her bike.

The cops rushed Mr. Pritchard and knocked him to the ground. Becky giggled with glee as they slapped cuffs to his wrists.

Bad Day for Og

OG HUNTS ALONE. THE others drove Og away because they believed he was bad luck. Always, Og would make a mistake on the hunt that would anger the others.

Og sees the thorn-heads and wonders how he could bring one down alone. As they graze, Og creeps forward.

Long before he comes close enough to throw his spear, his foot gets stuck in the mud. Og struggles, but that only makes it worse.

Og hears something that makes his heart thump big. It is the howl of the sharpfangs. They have seen him. Not a good day for Og...

OG STRUGGLES WITH THE mud, but only sinks deeper. Mud up to Og's knee. Sharpfang approach wary. It's nose wrinkles as it finds his scent.

Hunting stick with sharps, Og not forget that. Og use it to poke at sharpfang. Og has own fang. Eyes