Flash Fiction – Page 34 – Mist Glen Moon

Possibility’s End

The age was ending. Yeassi ran, the Rafni stick tucked beneath her arm. The ground churned at her feet and the sky twisted about her. She staggered beaten sideways by a particularly fierce gale compounded with the stone turning to sand beneath her feet. Wrenching her hand from the quickly hardening ground, Yeassi forced herself up. She could not be late.

Baggage

Lanad lay on the cot, to weary to move his arm from where it flopped over his chest or care for the moans of those moving about him. His pain was within. The Wall had fallen. The Mahar had invaded Galocia. And it was all Lanad’s fault.

Witch Way

Gnawing my lip, I scanned the sky as I drug the red wagon over through the ruts. Lissa’d offered to pull. I’d refused, of course. I didn’t need help. I just needed the road to end. We circled a juniper bush and the house appeared.

Harder Still

Timothy slouched, his elbows pressing into his legs were the only things keeping him falling off the bench. He’d never been so exhausted.

Little Things

I hadn’t known what to expect when inspecting the Crendamma House. No one had. No one had passed the red gates in my parent’s memories. Only the queen’s oath of expulsion had granted, grudgingly, this inspection.

How anyone could take umbrage at something so innocent

Relics

Danny straddled the barrel reaching for the tank’s muzzle abandoned to the edge. City lights glowed distantly, but his goal shone brighter. Reaching for the stem growing from the muzzle, Danny yanked.

She'd only given in because she was lonely

Beyond Silence

Raizel touched the screen’s frame. The metal casing was cold, and she burned with excitement. Not that she dared with the dust dulled screen. What if this image vanished?

Neighbor’s Tapping

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! I’m celebrating with a longer flash fiction inspired by mythology. I hope you enjoy and have a great day and all the rest you wish. Keelan drummed his fingers over the back of the other hand, following the rhythm of the tapping echoing through his home. He should have known better…

I believed that nothing could ever replace it. And that belief lasted for forty-eight hours.

History Bygone

Barely noticing the ticking, whirring, and plumes of mist surrounding me, I sat with my hands on either side of the device. No matter how I stared, the glass remained dull. This wasn’t possible.

Dark Hunts

Bolting through the woods, branches wiped Eand’s face, adding cuts to those already stinging. Boot caught beneath a root, twisting his ankle and dropping him. His hands scrapped branches and dirt, adding more injuries.

Writing	187.5% Complete
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Category: Flash Fiction (page 34)

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Works in Progress

Possibility’s End

Baggage

Witch Way

Harder Still

Little Things

Relics

Beyond Silence

Neighbor’s Tapping

History Bygone

Dark Hunts

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Curse and Counter

A Matter of Perspective

On Such a Night

Shepherd’s Will

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