Wilson’s Flora Mortuary Welcome to Wilson’s Flora Mortuary. Sorry for your loss. What was it? A cherry tree, 4 months old? A tragedy. They’re so fragile at that age. Here at Wilson’s, we handle funerals for everything from flowers to fully grown trees. Mostly houseplants, honestly. We can have the service here or outside. Did…
Tag: flash fiction
2001: A Taste Odyssey
2001: A Taste Odyssey “The best part of space exploration is setting down on an unknown planet, shooting the first thing you meet and roasting it over a charcoal fire. Sitting back under alien stars and digging into some interstellar brisket, now that’s pure heaven. “Sure, sometimes you accidentally bag a sentient, maybe even a…
History is in the Eye of the Beholder
Written as a response to the Muse on Monday prompt: Write a story based around a death or funeral History is in the Eye of the Beholder The king was dead, finally. The blessedly-late Kale XXVIII had white-knuckled onto life for 116 years until he had finally meandered away from his mortal coil. Now the…
Probably a Phase
Probably a Phase “It’s a dreamcatcher,” his son said. “Ah,” Tim said, staring at the artistic horror. “Why are there chicken guts in it?” “Because it’s an evil dreamcatcher. To curse people.” It’s a phase, Tim thought. He’s going through a phase. “Cool . . .” he said aloud. “How?” “It uses a person’s possession…
A Year in Abeyance
A Year in Abeyance I decided to take 2026 off. No social media; no media at all: just me and my sailboat meandering around the Pacific. I left San Diego on December 31, 2025. “Call if you need anything,” I told my brother as I left. I’d left my phone at home. 365 days. Warm…
My House Doesn’t Trust Me
This story is a response to the Muse on Monday prompt of April 6, 2026: Write a story about a character breaking into their own house. My House Doesn’t Trust Me I was five steps down my front path on the way to the car when I realized I’d forgotten my keys inside the now-locked…
Grandpa’s Head
Grandpa’s Head “There’s a head inside that.” Grandma pointed to the box on the highest bookshelf. I mentioned this at dinner, expecting laughter. Everyone just nodded. “Your great-grandfather found it a century ago, completely mummified.” “That slash across its mouth, ugh!” “And the naked lady tattoo.” The adults snickered. The kids looked fascinated. “Can we…
The First Night
This story is a response to the Muse on Monday prompt of March 23, 2026: Write a story about going to sleep. The First Night The lights die with a mechanical clunk and darkness suffocates me like a woolen shroud. I try not to move on my bunk. Every breath seems to make the metal…
The Webs
The Webs The webs felt like a shriek of horror in a fetid boneyard. I staggered, almost blind with despair. Just cut one. The air felt tainted, a gaseous rot that crawled over my boots, turning everything leprous and foul. Cut one. My spirit screaming for me to run, I brought my knife blade against…
Three Inches Blueward
Three Inches Blueward I’m regretting agreeing to help my fifth-dimensional neighbor move. “Bring it forward.” We’re carrying his couch through the front door. He’s inside and it’s apparently stuck on something. “Good. Now go about three inches blueward.” “Blueward?” “Yes! Hurry, this thing is heavy.” “How?” “I’m trying to use words you know, Steve! You…
The Green-Walled Treehouse 