“Tickets! Tickets, please! Thanks, miss. Change at Long Branch.”
Tag: flash fiction
Detective Mark Wheeler lay on the grass. The ground chilled his bones as the fog rolled in.
“Droplets of liquid methane began to splash on Glin’s bald head . . .”
The year is 2078. Rampant consumption has succeeded in burning a hole through the ozone layer.
This smell was different. This smell was not like before.
“The chimpanzee with a bandaged forehead grabbed a hypodermic needle . . .”
“In Eyre Square the boy Victor waited, watching the front entrance of the Great Southern Hotel. The bells of the Abbey church struck 2:00 am in the rain-solaced silence.”
The sparrow literally dropped through the flue into Helen’s cold fire place at just barely daylight. At first, she thought she imagined it.