Post Your Short Fiction Here!

At last night’s guild meeting, we heard from Doyle McKim and Amy Knepper about short stories, short narratives, and flash fiction. We hope you enjoyed the workshop. Several people got up to read their 5-minute prompts, and I want to thank all of you who did! We have a wonderful group of writers here, and the stories were so unique and full of amazing imagery.

We in the guild encourage you to share your writing, and here’s the place to do it. Post a comment, and type your prompt story or another flash fiction piece (200 words or less) as a comment. Everyone else will get a chance to read and respond too. Thanks for being a part of the LCWG!

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7 Responses to Post Your Short Fiction Here!

  1. Pat Longley says:

    (“Plan”)
    “You have to, we agreed. You can’t back out now.” Jimmy and Joey looked at each other and breathed deep. Each checked both ways before breaking cover and creeping past the hedge. The coast was clear left and right. They dropped down and crawled closer.
    “You see her?”
    “No, it’s clear.”
    A moment later a loud crash sent terror through each boy as the door swung hard against the house. “You brats get home! You hear me!”
    Both scrambled in opposite directions – home.

  2. Anonymous says:

    Doyle McKim
    Warmth
    With the ice field alee and open water hard to windward, I clutched the helm against freezing cold. Spray flew like frozen shot to gather white in my beard and brows. I wanted to claw it away, I wanted warmth, but our only chance lie in the battle I must make to the open sea.
    I could see warmth. Someone had left the companionway open a crack and the yellow bar of glowing coal called of comfort and life. I reached a hand toward it, but a voice cursed from below and the companionway slammed shut.
    “Well,” I said, and put my hand to the helm once more. When I tried to move it again, I could not. When I tried to steel my face against the blast, I could not. My only hope was the warmth below. Someone else could hold us to weather. When I tried to step, I could not. I looked at the light of the compass bowl and tried to put my hand there. I could not. I tried to think of what I must do next, but I could not.

  3. Chair
    Cold steel gleamed in the light of a single incandescent lamp.
    Harvey put a dab of metal polish on his rag and rubbed the spot on the back of the headrest where they said a man’s brains had melted out. He didn’t know how mere brains could etch steel like battery acid. Must have been the current running through them, or something.
    No matter. Harvey was just here to do his job, and his job was to keep stuff clean. He scuffed away at the stain, loving the odor of cleanliness emanating from the cloth. But his anger rose as it did every week when the stain refused to lift.
    “Come on.” He clenched his teeth as his shift supervisor swaggered into the room.
    “Hey Harvey. How’s it goin’?”
    Harvey could only stare as three giant bread crumbs dropped off the man’s lips and on to the silver seat.
    Harvey’s fist tightened behind his back. “Fine.”

  4. Marcia Jacyna says:

    Marcia Jacyna
    WARMTH
    I put the empty woodbox out of my mind during the spring, sumer and the brilliance of October. When an unexpected freeze chilled my house to it’s bone in mid November, I hastened out to the woodpile. Arms filled, I headed back to the house. Unable to see past my load, I slipped on the bottom step and landed with a splinter of wood in my lower lip. Warm blood oozed into my mouth.

  5. WARMTH
    Now that the frigid reality has become inevitable, I’ll set my mind adrift.
    My child invented a word.
    Urm means more than warm. If you are urm, you are not cold, or sad, or depressed or alone. If you are urm, you are as connected to your body as the word Om connects you to the universe. Maybe, if I let this word take on a material reality, I can overcome this disaster after all.
    CHAIR
    Running through the dark forest, hell on my heels, I suddenly came upon a lounge chair. Perplexed, panting, I was overcome with a desire to give up the fight. I sat down and felt a warmth emanate from the chair. The arms became real, the feet of the chair pushed off from the forest floor and a warm, pink glow formed around us. I looked down to see my nemesis, frustrated, growling, unable to reach me with his grasping appendages. Sometimes its good to take a break.

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