(Flash Fiction) "The Butterfly"

The Butterfly

by Debbie Manber Kupfer

Simon concentrated on the words. They had to be just right, perfect. The ink flowed from his pen as it floated a few inches above the magenta vellum. There that’s it, and now to fold, to create. Silently he mouthed the spell and the butterfly began to take form. He had watched a Japanese master once form an intricate butterfly out of a single sheet of paper. He closed his eyes and dredged through his memories, remembering the lines. He smiled as he opened his eyes and the butterfly sat in front him, its wings quivering, awaiting his next instruction.

Jennifer sat by herself in the corner of the cafeteria. Tonight was prom and still no invitation. She was crazy to believe that Simon was interested in her - especially as her magic was so commonplace. He could have his pick of any witch here, why would he choose her? But still she caught herself looking over at his table. He appeared to be concentrating on something. Lost in whatever crazy creative spell he was working on.

Simon raised his wand and slowly the butterfly rose through the air. All around the cafeteria there was a sudden hush as the students watched the flight of the magenta butterfly as it circled the room and finally fluttered onto Jennifer’s plate.

Jennifer gazed at it in awe. She held her breath as it started to unfold, until at last she could see the words written in beautiful copperplate letters:

“Mr. Simon Black requests the pleasure of Miss Jennifer Meeks to accompany him this evening to Salem High Summer Prom.”

With trembling hands, Jennifer took out her pen and wrote a single word, “yes”. Instantly the butterfly reformed and fluttered over to Simon’s table. Simon read the word and smiled at Jennifer who nodded. It was going to be perfect, she thought.

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Check  out Debbie's blog! http://debbiemanberkupfer.wordpress.com/

(Flash Fiction) "Esmeralda Grunch and the Red Tulip"

Esmeralda Grunch and the Red Tulip

by Debbie Manber Kupfer

Esmeralda Grunch opened her eyes and stretched. She reached up and tugged apart the crimson petals above her head and gazed out at the sunrise.

“Ouch,” screeched the Tulip, “what did you have to do that for? I’ll open up in a little if you just wait for the sun to come out.”

But Esmerelda couldn’t wait. She pushed her way up through the deep red petals and out into the cool morning air. She breathed deeply and let the first rays of the sun touch her tiny gossamer wings. She flew down to the pond, where she gazed at her reflection, satisfied. She was a very fetching flower sprite even if she said so herself, with deep red hair that matched her tulip and a scarlet dress that sparkled in the early morning rays.

The Tulip rearranged its petals and settled down for the day, grumbling to itself. It knew it was supposed to be an honor to be chosen by a flower sprite, but still she could be a bit more grateful; after all the Tulip was unique - she was the only red Tulip in the flower patch.

She gazed haughtily at the other flowers. Such vulgar shades. Only she was the purest red. Her bulb had been a ruby set in the soil, a promise of a fragrant future. Yes, the garden was truly hers, despite what Esmeralda believed.

But still as the day progressed the Tulip became restless. Where was the sprite? She would need to close her petals soon and rest for the night. There in the distance, a fluttering of wings, and Esmeralda landed with the plop in the middle of the Tulip.

“Where have you been?” scolded the Tulip, but Esmeralda didn’t answer. She was already fast asleep. The Tulip sighed as she enfolded Esmeralda in her petals and joined her in peaceful slumber.

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Check out Debbie's blog! http://debbiemanberkupfer.wordpress.com/

(Flash Fiction) "Fantasy in Light and Dark"

Fantasy in Light and Dark
A Flash Fiction Allegory

by Matthew R. Bishop

There were great people who walked in this world, who lived and breathed our air and whose dreams lifted the sky above our heads. With innocence and nobility in their hearts they shaped the world. They served the Light. They defended the Light. So they had been raised, and all of their fathers before them.
As it did every so often, a Darkness came upon the world to threaten the Light, and the Light called on its soldiers to defense, for goodness and honor and family, and for these things the good men answered this call. They kissed their mothers and their wives and their children, they saluted their fathers or laid flowers on their graves, and they left to fight the Darkness in the shadowy caves.
The caves were darker than any expected. Where these good men wanted to find beasts and trolls and goblins, instead they looked into human eyes in which shone a Light much the same as their own. Yet the Light ordered them to kill.
The soldiers of the Light, in Darkness, did great evil, and the Light was gone forever in their hearts. The men who survived those caves walked out with glazed eyes and no words between one another. They looked at the sullen faces of the men they had prepared to die for. There was not a face that had gone into those caves that had come out of them. These faces were different. These eyes were different. These hearts were ever changed.
These new men wandered the world burdened by their loss. For as long as they lived they never knew the Light again. Not one of them found the heart to return to their families; those were the families of other men. Not one of them longed for their homes; they had been the homes of some other child. Nor did any ask of their children, for those children had been raised by a man lost forevermore.
They wandered invisible and nameless, and as they crossed from town to town they heard tales of the great battle in the darkest parts of the caverns, where the Light defeated the Darkness and good men triumphed over evil. Where did anyone get such ideas as those?
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Visit Mathew's website! http://www.matthewrbishop.com/

(Flash Fiction) "That Thing We Saw Last Night"

That Thing We Saw That Night

By Kevin Candela

There’s just something about riding in a flying fireball.
Mariko smiled, taking in the darkened fields and forests over which his absolutely silent vessel was currently gliding at an unhurried pace.  More than a mile below, a handful of awestruck motorists gazed up at the impossible red, white and orange ball of flames that was his ride of choice for duties like this.
The man with an egret’s head – for that is what Mariko would seem to be if viewed up close by any of those gawking drivers and passengers below – turned his long beak to one side and pointed its tip at the IR display.
The screen showed nothing but the heat signatures of the cars and riders, all of which were following the primitive concrete and pitch roadways of this still young project.  Another quiet patrol, it appeared.
He couldn’t help thinking about landing; it had been centuries, and of course it was virtually taboo these days.  But he really missed interacting with the beings that his race had created and elevated to dominance over this Terra-formed world.
Of course he wouldn’t be a god to these modern ones, as he had been back when they weren’t all rapidly merging into one globe-spanning electronic organism.  He’d be a freak, a nightmare, unless he used his own advanced technology to disguise his appearance.  And if he couldn’t find just the right individual and…well…be himself, what was the point?
Twin white meteor streaks jarred him out of his nocturnal daydreaming.  In an instant Mariko was on the job.  The magnetic snare was already enabled and the ship was on track, so all he had to do was hold course to intercept.  The first superheated mass he snagged easily, and as it went into a quick half-orbit around his craft Mariko slowed slightly to ensure catching the second as well.  The flux beams guided them into the containment bay.
Mariko sighed.  Dull job for a god, he thought as he cruised on toward his next intercept.
But at least he had a cool ride.
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Check out Kevin on Facebook! https://www.facebook.com/pages/Riot-Forge/742649005764208

(Flash Fiction) "April Fool"

April Fool

By Kevin Candela

What would you do with a package with no return address that held only a tiny metal box with a single button on one side?  Would you push the button?
The corrugated cardboard package, left on my front porch that Friday, was soaked from the April drizzle by the time I got home.  The only words on it were my name and address…in letters clipped out of magazines.  See?  No clue at all.  I shook the box.  No sound.  Damn.
Like anyone else I’ve made a few enemies in life.  But I couldn’t think of any who’d be sending me a bomb.  Why did I think someone sent me a bomb?  The lettering?  Laughing at myself, I peeled the mailing tape off and opened it.  There amidst a sea of Styrofoam dots sat a dull gray box with a little red button on top.  I have to admit the urge to click it was immediate.
How I let it sit there on the table for two days I still don’t know.  What I DO know is that I couldn’t concentrate on anything else during that time.  I didn’t sleep; I napped for ten minutes to an hour at a time.  I couldn’t focus to watch a TV show and I went nearly a day before I remembered I needed to eat.
Damn, I wanted to push that button!
I finally noticed my own reek late Sunday afternoon.  During my shower the next apartment’s washing machine pulled all my hot water momentarily, and it was that chilling slap in the face that finally convinced me to get over my goofy paranoia and go for it.
The thing was like two inches square, I told myself.  What the hell could it do?
More than you’d think, it turned out.  Not sure who made the damned thing but six of us are inside it now.  Nobody gets hungry but it sure is boring and tedious in here.  My best guess is it was made by a mad scientist with a warped sense of humor.  Or a crazed immortal wizard.
What a jerk.
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Check out Kevin on Facebook! https://www.facebook.com/pages/Riot-Forge/742649005764208

(Flash Fiction) "The Walk"

The Walk

by Kerry E.B. Black      
 
They rushed like worker-bees returning pollen-laden to a hive.
“I found the lucky sixpence! Great Aunt Ruth wore it in her shoe when she was married.”
“How long ago was that, Ruth?”
“Forty-two years ago, and” She patted her niece’s hand, “your marriage will outlast mine!”
A glowing smile answered her aunt’s assurance.
“Christine, what do you have that is borrowed?” a relative asked.
A bridesmaid in pink removed a bit of embroidery from an ornate clutch.
“That old thing? Surely we can do better than a ratty old handkerchief? Now ladies, who has something suitable for our bride to borrow?”
Involved in self-important tasks, none but the maid-of-honor noticed the look of hurt brought by this proclamation. She said, “It is the bride’s choice. Christine loves Aunt Mimi’s handkerchief. It’s handmade.” She smiled as relief registered on the dowager’s face.
The fussing revolved about the bride who sat perched in state upon a pink cameo chair, serene smile playing at the corner of her coral-pink lips, eyes glittering with amusement. Her hair twisted in thick curls laden with pearls, diamonds sparkling at throat, ears, and of course upon her left hand.
A blue garter atop silk-stockings, lace pumps on pedicured feet, and the bride looked like a confection in oceans of frothy white silk. “Beautiful” perfume upon her wrist accurately described the veiled lady.
Mother-of-the-bride directed the photographer. Mother-of-the-groom organized corsages and bouquets. She swiveled when she overheard a question.
“How did you two meet, Chrissie?”
Roses resided in her cheeks as Christine related the tale. “At the campus coffee shop, he picked up my Mocha Frappuccino by mistake. He likes Vanilla Steamers.” She giggled. “We talked, and now look at us!” Her eyes twinkled.

A knock set the bridal hive buzzing afresh. A throat cleared, announced her father’s arrival. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, covering it with his own. She smiled into his face, a queen at her coronation. Tears danced in his cataract-coated eyes, and they walked to meet her groom.
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Check Kerry out on Facebook! https://www.facebook.com/authorKerryE.B.Black

Last Day for Submissions for FF Contest

WHERE: Writer Block (http://dragonplume.wordpress.com)
DISTRIBUTION: WordPress, Tumblr, Blogger, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn
CATEGORIES: “clean” Romance, Fantasy, Historical
PRIZES: 3 Amazon gift certificates
JUDGING: Entries posted through the month of June based on order of submission. Judging is based on the total number of Ratings, Likes, Comments, and Shares at Writer Block (found on WordPress, Blogger, and Tumblr). Voting closes at midnight on June 30th. Winners will be announced on the blog and via email on July 5th.
SUBMISSIONS: April 28 – May 28. 350 word limit. Maximum two submissions per person. No registration fee.
RULES: Send your email to the address below. Include the submission(s) in the body of the email. Specify the category of each submission. No more two categories per submission.
EMAIL: writerblock149@gmail.com, with the heading "FF Contest"

Flash Fiction Contest

In June, you can to share your FF stories on several platforms, get feedback, and maybe win a prize... Sound fun?

PRIZES: 3 Amazon gift certificates
DISTRIBUTION: WordPress, Tumblr, Blogger, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn
JUDGING: number of ratings, likes, comments, and shares on the blog
CATEGORIES: “clean” Romance, Fantasy, Historical
SUBMISSIONS: April 28 – May 28. 350 word limit. Maximum two submissions per person. Specify the category of each submission. No more two categories per submission.
EMAIL: writerblock149@gmail.com, with the heading "FF Contest"