Flash Fiction: Spencer's View

I swim around every day in my wee bowl. I swim from side to side, occasionally going up to drink some water and diving down to find food in amongst the stones, of which there never is anyway. 

I swim around every day, looking at the same thing all the time. Nothing ever changes.  I am on my own.  I am lonely.  I miss my buddy.  It used to be him and me every day, happily swimming around together.  We used to play chase games and hide and seek behind out palm tree. 

It used to him and me.  Together. Happy.  But all that changed a few weeks ago.  One morning we were swimming around when Fred just stopped. He wouldn’t move, I prodded him, head-butted him, everything but he would not move.  I thought he was just playing sleeping fishes but then I realised he had died.  I was so sad.  I was alone.  My buddy had died.

Now I have no one to play chase with.  No one to hang with.  I am all alone.  I am sad. 

#prompt: Write a scene from the point of view of a beloved pet

Flash Fiction: Confess or Die?

It’s 7.15pm – How much time do you have before you confess? What happens at 7.15pm?

I’ve done a terrible thing, committed a horrible crime and now am on the run.  What did I do what was so wrong? Well, I killed a man.  It wasn’t outright murder, it was a mixture of a crime of passion and a crime of hatred.  I killed someone who I loved so much but who I also hated because they were so difficult to live with.  They were the type of person who you couldn't live with but also couldn't live without.

It was a premeditated crime.  I planned the murder so perfectly and I planned it so that I would never be found out.  However, one thing I had not counted on was that I someone would witness me committing my perfect crime.

It was unfortunate that I had been seen, especially when I took so much care of not leaving any evidence which would lead the police to finding out it was me who was he killer.   But I had been seen, and now I was being blackmailed by the witness.  Being blackmailed into confessing to the crime.  I only had 2.5 hours to go now before I had to confess, otherwise I would be outed by my blackmailer.  This threat was made three days ago, and time was running out.

I had 2.5 hours to decide how I wanted my life to turn out.  Did I confess to my crime and spend a lifeline behind bars and possibly facing the death sentence.  Or did I just call the blackmailers bluff and not confess?   Come on, what evidence was there that I committed a murder? I left no evidence behind which would link me to this death.  The only think that linked me was this witness.  All that linked me to the crime was his word against mine. Was there not a way around this?

If I didn't confess, what would happen to me? Well, if the blackmailer’s threat worked then it would mean spending a lifetime on the run constantly looking over my shoulder waiting for my past to come up behind me and leave me dead.  It was a tough choice to be facing – do I choose to spend life in a box or life on the run? What would you choose?

However as I realized it wasn't that clear cut, there was a third option – link the crime to my blackmailer  - after all there was no evidence linking me.

It was now 7.15pm and I had my choice to make.  It wasn’t really a tough decision in the end – I didn’t want to be in a box or be on the run so I decided to blackmail the blackmailer and set him up for my crime, which once again was turning out to be the perfect murder and one I was going to get away with!!

It was now 7.15pm – the deadline to which I was meant to confess before or I would die.  I wasn't afraid of what would happen, as I knew I was innocent. So instead of receiving the threatened punishment of death from my blackmailer, I was once again walking free to a life of happiness.  I had murdered the one person who was making my life a misery and I had managed to get away with it!! It was the ideal ending, for me anyway!!  

Flash Fiction: The Hair Wars!!

Write 300 words about one daily gender related task or chore from the opposite Point of View

Men, they always complain about how much time it takes to do their hair, to get it perfectly styled, making sure it’s all in the right place.  They complain about the fact that they have to make sure their bald spots are covered and all grey hairs removed.  They complain about the price of hair products and how it is so difficult to choose the right product to shit their hair and that there are too many choices to pick from – Wax, Gel, Gum, Clay, and Spray etc. etc.

They moan and they hog the bathroom for hours – they say we women are bad but they are worse.  We do our daily routine and management of hair because the guys would mock us if we didn't.  We can manage to walk past a mirror without looking in it, admiring ourselves and checking each strand of hair is perfectly in place and the same length!!!

They think they have hair problems.  But us women we go through worse, we go through pain to make sure we look neat and tidy.  We have more to do in the morning – style hair, cleanse face, put our make-up on, plucking stray hairs, shaving legs, shaving armpits, etc. but we still manage to be in and out of the bathroom in half the time it takes a man to do his daily routine.

And when it comes to products, men don’t know the half of it.  They think hair gel is expensive – try buying make-up – it is very complicated picking the right tone for our skin and are very expensive to buy.

Men may complain but what they go through to look good is nothing compared to what us fairer sex suffer through.  And we do it without much complaining, because if did they’d never listen. 

Flash Fiction: It's an Apple Pie life

I arrived on the shelf at 8.30am.   For the first few hours of sitting no one came near the baked goods aisle.  Obviously not a good time for us. Then midday arrives and people are hungry for buns and doughnuts, but no one looks at the apple pies. No one. I feel sad.

So I sit and wait.  I have 1.5 days left on my tag, otherwise it’s “bye bye, Miss American Pie”, as the great Don McClean once sang.  

The afternoon is slow, some apple pies are bought but I am left in the shelf.  I really don’t want to go to the rubbish bin. That would be a good whole waste of an apple pie and the end of my life.

It is now coming to the end of the day, the shop is about to close and I am still on the shelf.  But there is always tomorrow.  Hang on, hey, someone is coming, they are looking at the apple pies, they are looking at me.  Maybe this is my chance. Is it? Oh yeah he picks me up, I have pulled, I have scored. Give me a high five!

He takes me to the counter and my bar code is scanned.  Money changes hands and I am put into a plastic bag.  We leave the shop together, woo hoo I am happy.  We get into a car and it’s off we go. Freedom for me. No bin for me. Yeah!

The car stops, we get out and go into the house.  I get taken out of the bag and put into a big cold cupboard.  It’s so cold. I am not liking this. What have I done to deserve this? It is so cold. I am shivering.  How long will I have to stay here? It’s Baltic in here.

Finally, after what seems like decades I get taken out of the cold place.  I am being carried then am put into another enclosed place.  This time it is hot – so so hot.  I think I have gone to hell. I am dying.  Think I would have preferred to go into the bin.  LET MEEEEEEEE OUTTTTTTTTTTT.  That’s it I’m dead! 

Flash Fiction: Over to Death

I made a bargain with Death, I bring him souls to reap and he spare mine.  It’s a good deal.  Most of the time.  But after a while, you begin to become…. Less than human.  Something that isn’t quite a monster, but certainly isn’t mortal either.

At first I was glad. I had made the deal because it was a good way for me to get rid of those people who either annoy me, have hurt me in the past or just generally caused or still cause me misery! All those bullies in life – all gone to death.  And in return I got a few more days on earth. It was a win win situation for me!

However, after 50 or so souls gone to Death’s quarters I was now running out of enemies and annoying people. I was at a loss.  I was not ready to die.  I had not completed everything on my bucket list and didn’t want to leave this world until they had all been achieved.  I wanted to die happy.

Though, I wasn’t happy.  Every soul I gave to death took a little bit away from me, I was becoming inhuman.   And what human who had any moral decency would give people over to Death to die, even if they were horrible people.  No one deserved to die and no one, not even me deserves to live longer than any other person, especially since I had a terminal illness which should have ended my day’s weeks ago.  I was living on borrowed time. Illegal borrowed time.

Death was lurking upon me, but I was still being selfish and I still didn’t want to go, so staying with the deal I gave death more people.  And since I had to run out of enemies I had to start sacrificing my friends and my family.  Who was I to have this upper hand?

However, with each soul I gave to Death more of me died inside.  Even though I was avoiding physical death I was still dying – I was an immoral soul walking this earth. A person who did not deserve to live. I started to feel self-loathing towards myself.  I was a monster in the making and it was not a nice feeling.  I was nearly as bad as Death, if not worse.

It was when I was delivering my third death into the hands of Death that my moral conscience attacked me – I fell on the floor and screamed for mercy and forgiveness for all the souls I had sold to Death.  I begged Death to take me this time and spare the lives of whom I loved.  Death laughed in my face and said “I am not going to give you that freedom.  I will make you squirm.  I am going to ask your friend to decide whether you should die or live and continue to suffer. The guilt will eventually kill you”

My friend, a long suffering friend of mine looked at me and then looked at death then looked back at me before saying “Today my friend you shall die”.  With that I crumbled into pieces and just like that I disappeared.  Gone forever like dust thrown to the wind.