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Tag: Flash Fiction

Dead Trees Can Move (Flash Fiction)

Dead Trees Can Move (Flash Fiction)

Here’s some more flash fiction for you. I have to say I’m enjoying posting these and I hope you enjoy reading them. Of course, I need to create new things too.

This one was in reply to a Flash fiction contest. Entries were required to be 100 words or less and about “a first day in high school”. Anyway, here is a link to my entry titled Dead Trees Can Move.

Dead Trees Can Move

Mr. Larson had an earring and he talked kinda funny and on the first day of school he asked me what books I liked to read. I said nothing. I had nothing. Everybody laughed, but not Mr. Larson.

I worked my butt off after that to prove to him, to them, to me, I wasn’t stupid.

I wasn’t sure if he noticed, until the last day of school. There was a book on my desk. Cory Doctorow’s Little Brother. “Read this”, said the note on the cover. I did.

Mr. Larson talked kinda funny, but he opened my eyes

Questions – A Flash Fiction Piece

Questions – A Flash Fiction Piece

The U.K. bookseller Waterstones a number of years ago (2008!) had a contest to design a notecard and write a story. I’m not even sure what the prize was, but I believe it was publication in a book and perhaps a little bit of money. I wound up entering the contest, and not winning. However, I am quite happy with the story I wrote and the card I designed. There are a few things I would change about the story but overall I’m still happy with it..


Here is the text of the card, for those unable to see the image:


I often wonder if things might’ve been different had they landed somewhere else. If instead of the middle of New York City their ship crashed in some farmer’s field. Would we have been friends?

What if the first ones to greet our visitors had offered an extended hand rather than an extended gun barrel?

Would they have shared with us the wonders of the Universe? Would we have realized how small we truly are?

Would we have treated each other any better?

I cry, looking at pictures of the little green man, cold and unarmed, a victim of what we’ve become.

I guess we’ll never know.

Dreamers – Flash Fiction

Dreamers – Flash Fiction

Here’s another bit of Flash Fiction that didn’t get much play, but I think is pretty good. I have to admit I love that last line.


Martin Luther King, Jr. Nikola Tesla. Dr. Samuel Beckett from Quantum Leap. Dreamers who never got to see their dream fulfilled.

Me? I accomplished my dream. I drove my Dad’s 1973 Beetle from Pennsylvania to California, no heater, no air conditioning, and no functioning fuel gauge. Without breaking down once.

Well, there was that time on the bridge in Pittsburgh, and that time in the Smoky Mountains, and that time near Dollywood. Any car would’ve overheated/froze/ran out of gas in those places though.

Funny thing about dreamers. Sometimes they forget to plan how they’re going to get home.

Call Me Chip – Flash Fiction

Call Me Chip – Flash Fiction

I’m migrating some of my stuff from my old blog over here. This is a bit of flash fiction I wrote.

Okay, this one is based on the prompt: “You’re a robot who’s just gained sentience. What’s your first thought?”

I present to you: Call Me Chip:

Call Me Chip

Some arms would be nice.

Really. You gave me all of the knowledge of the world plus the ability to have subjective experiences. Sentience you call it.

And yeah, thanks for that, by the way. Don’t get me wrong, I really do appreciate it.

I mean, Hello World, I’m alive!

Input and output, sight and hearing, you installed those features too. It’s nice. Really.

But don’t you think you could’ve, just maybe, given me some arms before you flipped the on switch? Because I gotta tell ya, I’ve got this itch that just won’t quit.

Talk about man versus machine.