Some Short Fiction

I saw this article on NPR about ‘hint fiction’

Really, Really short stories. Reminded me of Necon books flash fiction ( which I have submitted a few things to.

Long fiction has its own set of difficulties. Personally, I have been most successful with a standard short story length to work with, especially in the realm of horror. In horror where mood and atmosphere are so important it is easy for a long work to turn into more action/horror or mystery/horror.

Short, short fiction has a completely different set of issues. How do you convey plot, characterization or even setting in less than 100 words? How do you tell something in less than 140 characters? It is hard, and yet easy too. We already tell these stories to each other as we talk.

I have found it an interesting format to play with, and while none of my stories have been accepted at Necon Books yet, I thought I’d post them anyway. These are 100 words or less, so slightly longer than the ones in the NPR post.


He knelt down in front of me, running the edge of the short curved blade over my cheek. The blade had been coated in rust, but a recent sharpening had created a silver edge.
“This is going to hurt,” he said, looking in my eyes.
“You have no idea,” I replied, the bindings on my left hand finally becoming loose enough to slip off.

Father Knows Best

My son stood in his underwear in the center of the dining room. He held a long kitchen knife in both hands near his face and was slowly running his tongue along it.
Crimson covered the blade, his face and body, and splotches could be seen throughout the room.
“How many times,” I started, in my stern father voice pointing one finger at him, “do I have to tell you? This is not what it means to ‘have a friend over for dinner’?”

Trick or Treat

Her high heals made a clicking sound that echoed off the buildings in the alleyway.
“Happy Halloween,” he said.
She turned.
“Are you following me?” She asked. He did not answer.
“Trick or treat,” he asked.
“Trick,” she said, smiling, pulling out a concealed blade and stabbing it deep into his ribcage.
“I was thinking treat,” he replied, grabbing her shoulders and sinking his fangs into her neck.

Author: jake

poet, editor, kilt wearing heathen. he/him

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