81 Words Flash Fiction Writing Challenge – Stories Page 4

Story 301:

VAMPIRES ANONYMOUS

by Daniel McClaskey

Everyone is staring holes into my pigmentless skin, so I should probably say something. I've been dreading this week forever.

Shakily, I begin, "Hi, my name's Ste… *cough* …Abigor, and I've been fanged since 1884."

In unison, "Welcome, Abigor," drones from the room.

I look around and a lady at the back of the room catches my eye. She has those ambiguous green-brown eyes that I've definitely seen somewhere before. Her scent reminds me of a time before the bi…

"Mum?"

Story 342:

THE STRUGGLE

by Andrew Perry

When I've lots of jobs to do, time passes incredibly fast. When I've nothing to do, time stands still. What I needed was time to go slow when I'd lots to do and time to go fast when I was bored.

So, on a day when I had lots to do, I did nothing. Success, I had all the time in the world. Unfortunately, I now have a long list of things to do and no time to do them in.

Story 348:

BEING DAD

by Gowravy Ravanan

He wakes me up with a cute smile, caressing my head. He carries me to the bathroom. He cooks me delicious food. He gets me ready, like Mum does. He drops me at school, wishing me good luck.

He picks me up. On the way home, he buys all the candy I want. He reads me bedtime stories. He kisses me on the forehead while I pretend to sleep.

These images flash in my tears, as I look at his coffin.

Story 381:

A MADNESS

by John Holland

"It's a madness, a sickness, a weakness. What on earth can I do with this so-called love you say you have for me? I can't bake a cake with it. I can't dig it in the garden. I can't take the dog for a walk with it. I'm busy. And it's your problem, not mine."

"But I can't put it back. I can't un-love you. No matter how harshly you treat me."

"Sorry. Was I being overly-negative?"

"Not overly, my love."

Story 391:

PIECE PIPE

by Chris Espenshade

Faith-keepers unwrapped the classic 1870s plains pipe. A metre long, it was carved catlinite, embellished with beads and eagle feathers. It had passed among chiefs and US representatives. Its smoke sealed promises of peace and land security.

The archivist swelled with pride of repatriation. "Your heritage." The museum wanted a public ceremony. The tribe declined.

The traditionalists placed the pipe on a basalt slab, lifted cobbles and wordlessly took turns smashing it to dust.

Each fracture, a broken promise. "Our heritage."

Story 400:

INFANT AMBITION

by James Smart

World leaders gathered around a simple laptop, their sole interface with their new AI. Great men and women were reduced to biting nails and sweating brows. They prepared themselves for the demands of a sentient cyberbeing that was holding the world to ransom. It had control of every nuclear warhead on the planet and access to all human knowledge stored on the web. Everyone held their breath as letters forming words appeared on the screen:

I want to be a train.