Tag: flash fiction
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A Bucket of Tiny Madnesses
When you press them down, you hear their angry little squeals.
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We’re Being Eaten
J– is studying at the kitchen table, pencil scribbling, lamp-lit, while the things slide in from the back yard. They slide out from holes we never noticed before (or maybe we always knew they were there, burrows with milk-gray wrinkled things inside, like overlarge moles, like leftovers we forgot about). J– needs to pass this…
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The Pieces she Kept
She plucked the shards out one by one and stashed them in a box under her bedroom floor.
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It Only Played Piano
It didn’t even weep ceaselessly. The ghost didn’t throw knives or stomp or bang on the walls. No one’s toes were nibbled.
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This Town has too Many Dark Festivals
The rites have been described as highly uncomfortable.
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This Old Hellhouse
Maalphegor came with it’s own door-to-door salesmen; at the beginning, they looked a little like Bela Lugosi clones, but as the years wore on, the shadows in the salesmen’s faces deepened, a bit like Pazuzu from the Exorcist; then increasingly they began to look like Slender Men once Ralph and Edna’s children came of age.
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The Snuggly Dead
Arturo’s body was never found, and that was all well and good because after getting chased around by that chainsaw-wielding maniac, he could have really used a break.
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There’s a Big Demon Alligator Sitting on the Lawn
And the neighbors glared at you, of course, because they think it’s your fault.
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“Great, but Too Many Floating Eyeballs”
Our room was bitter cold and no manner of warmth from the fireplace could chase away the chill, so snuggling deep into the pillows on the antique canopy bed was just the ticket. The moaning from the hallways really helped my husband get to sleep in the absence of his white noise generator.
Lorna D. Keach - Writer 