#1MinFiction: Stuck in the Drain

Jesse told Robert not to touch the kitchen light switch. Not until she could figure out which one controlled the garbage disposal. Not until she could snatch her fist out of the drain after she stupidly shoved it down there trying to catch a chicken bone. Crazy kids couldn’t just throw it away. When had they ever seen her wash a paper plate?


For a new flash fiction challenge: Monday’s One-Minute Fictionwrite a story in one minute, no more, no less, based on the prompt provided. This week’s prompt hints at a lesson to be learned: Don’t touch. Click the link to join in!

#1MinFiction: Long Lost Love

She didn’t burn all the letters. I  found pieces of one, along with a sepia photograph behind the fireplace—the son Grandpa never knew he had. I rush back to the bedroom to show him before his final breath, but Grandma stops me. She needs no reminding of his first wife, who died in Germany before the end of the Great War.


For a new flash fiction challenge: Monday’s One-Minute Fiction — write a story in one minute, no more, no less, based on the prompt provided. This week’s prompt was a photo. Click the link to join in!

Sunday Photo Fiction: Skull Tattoo

Johnathan knew there was something different about Majorie when he saw the skull and crossbones inked across her lower back as he bent her over the bed. For a girl with such a pretty name, there was nothing pretty about her. She had black flames tattooed on her arms. Her hair was jet black and cut short into an uneven bob. Her eyes were naturally green, but she only wore black contacts. When he asked her if she was Goth, she frowned at him.

“Why would you say that?” she asked.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he let it go. He honestly didn’t care what she was or what bizarre phase she was going through. Their relationship was purely sexual.

Johnathan traced the lines of the image on her back with the tips of his fingers. “Are you a pirate?” he asked.

“Mmmm,” she moaned. “I’ve been a bad, bad pirate. Make me walk your plank.” She arched her back.

Johnathan wrapped his hands around the front of her thighs and pulled her closer to him. Back and forth, they rocked on the edge of the bed. Johnathan tilted his head back and let Majorie’s dirty words motivate him.

“Your plank is so hard. Beat me with it!”

He moved faster. As he approached orgasm, he looked down to watch his finished work, and instead he saw the skull moving, it’s eye sockets squinting, the mouth in the shape of an O, as if he were fucking it and not Majorie.

Johnathan fell back, hit his head on the the edge of the dresser. Majorie turned around to the commotion behind her, and all he saw were her eyes, missing the whites, black as coal.

Word Count: 287


This post is part of Sunday Photo Fiction & yes it is over 200 words. 😦 Writing flash fiction is actually much harder than it sounds.