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Fly by the seat of your pants and write a story without a plan.

Posted in Short Story on Nov 8, 2022

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✍️ 68 stories

Fini Flight

Winner of Contest #170 🏆

Fini FlightTigger Warning:Suicide, Violence, Swearing"It's like flying."She said as I peered down at the two dead bodies laying on the ground below me. I was one of the four who decided to jump instead. The unlucky four who didn't escape."Well?"Well what? You're asking me to jump off a fucking building."Together?" I ask"No, you go first."What does that mean? Is she really going to chicken out? She was the one who so readily agreed to the idea."What?""You go first.""No.""Why?""What do you mean why?" I can feel the anger inside of me boiling u...

195 likes 113 comments 113
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The Land Of Fairytales: The Gingerbread Ghost

Submitted to Contest #170

The Land of Fairytales The Gingerbread Ghost Not so long ago, the Gingerbread Man lived alone, in a gingerbread house on the edge of Sugar Forest. His tiny home, decorated in white icing, was splattered with gumdrops, chocolate pieces and sprinkles. Green icing lined the windows, candy canes decorated the porch and marshmallows covered the roof like snow. One morning, when Gingerbread Man awoke, he glanced around his tiny home of confections and felt quite useless. Everyone in the Land of Fairytales had a special assignment. At least, ...

34 likes 26 comments 26
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Bloodlust

Submitted to Contest #170

I was going to kill a man tonight.  That’s why I went to the party. It was an extravagant, black-tie affair thrown on a warm late summer evening at the end of July. Hosted by none other than Walter Adler, the richest man in town. Midnight was approaching, and with it, my deadline. I dressed the part, wearing a maroon dress with a corset torso and a slit up the thigh. My makeup was reminiscent of the famous women in 1950s era America. I was, as they say, dressed to kill.  This particular estate had been blessed with a ballroom p...

32 likes 18 comments 18
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Xander Meets the In-Laws

Submitted to Contest #170

TW: Brief mentions of violence. Nothing is as terrifying as meeting your in-laws for the first time. I’ve met killers that didn’t give me the dry acidic taste that’s dancing on my tongue right now.             I asked to hold Tina. Using my baby daughter as a human shield might seem cowardly. Probably because it is. I’ve never had a relationship serious enough to meet family.             Perspiration in my armpits threate...

27 likes 16 comments 16
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English Class

Shortlisted for Contest #170 ⭐️

I’m sitting in English class, ripping my nails apart, dizzy with grief. I had gotten a red gel manicure over fall break with my grandmother. I felt pretty, put together, more like a woman than what I am—a college girl with nothing figured out.  Now I’m cursing my choices, as my thumb is a jagged mountain from digging under the shiny red. I need it off desperately, need my hands to be mine again.  The red is making my eyes burn, my throat tighten, and my chest collapse.  I’m sitting in my English class. It’s a Monday, and it...

26 likes 9 comments 9
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Wishing and Losing

Submitted to Contest #170

The candles leave softly blooming imprints on the back of June’s eyelids. She had peeked as Mum was lighting them.  “Don’t look, Junebug” Dad says, and her feet leave the ground as he quickly swings her into her chair. He smiles as he says it though, so she knows it’s really ok.  It is her birthday and she is old enough now to feel the pure and bright excitement of her special day. A shiny mylar balloon is tied to her chair and she tugs at it, curious about the way it bounces and pulls away from her. Frustration quickly turns to ...

25 likes 10 comments 10
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Plans and Dreams

Submitted to Contest #170

Daniel watched as the train left without him, leaving him stranded until the next day in the town that used to be his hometown. The warmth of summer still bravely flickered far into the fall, the reds and yellows of the leaves bringing their own kind of warmth, but he could feel the cold seeping in. There wasn’t much left for him here except for a few friends, acquaintances, and old memories. His brothers and sisters had long since scattered to other parts of the country, and his parents had moved someplace sunnier. But maybe she still lived...

23 likes 19 comments 19
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A LITTLE TRIP

Shortlisted for Contest #170 ⭐️

The lady with the bright blue hat looked on as her speckled cat was swatting at the firefly as it went trapesing by. She then spied a spider whose bottom half was wider, with a hangman's noose beside her, attempt to end it all. Her puppy wouldn't have it, but as he tried to grab it, a caterpillar stabbed it so it could watch her fall. The lady thought it tragic, the speckled cat cried, Magic! The puppy pawed a maggot to forget about it all.The parachute won't open, the elephant had spoken, the latch inside was broken, the monkey did it all. ...

23 likes 23 comments 23
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The Thinking Part

Submitted to Contest #170

TW: Writer’s block, and mild swearing (caused by the writer’s block).“This is going to suck,” I involuntarily announce. Immediately, I wince at the discreet (and not-so-discreet) glares I get from the quiet patrons around me. Shit!The northwest side of the library is congested with people. This section of the branch seems to be the quietest, or it is the ambience offered by its floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing the sun to luminate the room and warm up the cushioned community chairs and study desks, that make it feel more peaceful than ...

23 likes 20 comments 20
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The Treadmill

Submitted to Contest #170

*This story contains mild swearing*I have to go to the gymI have to go to the gymI have to go to the gymI repeated in my head as I drove the kids home from school. I had been planning to go to the gym for the past week. Ten days to be exact. I knew because my mum had given me a gym membership for my birthday. Really sweet I thought to myself, not allowing my smile to waver, but the witch in my head poked her head as she inspected her nails and asked nonchalantly, is she implying that you’re fat?“It’s a great way to meet guys, I hear!” Mum ha...

23 likes 16 comments 16
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Miguel, Mabelle and Me

Submitted to Contest #170

A blank page. Every life starts as one. Or does it? If a newborn is born with programs to grow, to cry when upset, to laugh when happy, to eventually speak, to eventually walk, what’s to say it isn’t born with programs to become a scholar, a criminal, a painter, a poet, a writer? Did you, in your mother’s womb, already possess the coding that predestined you to be a generally well-behaved child, to have a passion for music, to excel in school, to end up incarcerated, to put pigment on canvas, to compose verse, to write wo...

22 likes 12 comments 12
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Those Valuable Moments

Submitted to Contest #170

Those Valuable Moments My Father My father was a courageous man; an experienced soldier who instilled fear in the eyes of his enemies. He was awarded three medals of honor, lost an arm shielding his commander from a swarm of shrapnel, and walked across the Sahara Desert with nothing but three bottles of water, fifteen energy bars, and a camel for company. At least, this is what I was told. I never actually met my father, because even the most fearsome soul can be brought down by a single well-aimed bullet to the chest. Grandma I was raise...

21 likes 4 comments 4
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A LAST MEAL

Submitted to Contest #170

A LAST MEAL Sentenced to hang for the murder of his wife, Frank Stemmer had not for one moment stopped proclaiming his innocence. The trial was fairly straightforward. Circumstantial evidence all pointed in his direction. Three eyewitnesses saw a man who fit Frank’s description running from the murder scene, and all three identified him in a police lineup. A smudged fingerprint on the murder weapon was a partial match. Prosecuting attorneys detailed the crime in exquisite detail, and laid out the motive quite eloquently. According to...

21 likes 9 comments 9
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Fantastic Variations on an Old Rhyme - ~A Pastiche~

Submitted to Contest #170

Fantastic Variations on an Old Rhyme~A Pastiche~Scritch-scritch-scritch.There it was again: a faint scrabbling sound. Gert exhaled loudly, flipped her pillow to the cool side, and pulled the quilt over her head.Scritch-scritch-scritch.She could still hear it. A mouse in the wall, no doubt — and there lay Siminy, tidily curled at the foot of the bed, unjustly sleeping the sleep of the just.What time was it? Bonnnggg… The Clock struck One.Gert was too hot. She flung the covers back to feel the breeze from the fan. Scritch-scritch-scr...

20 likes 12 comments 12
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Under The Poppies

Submitted to Contest #170

“911, what’s your emergency?” “She’s gone! S-she’s really gone… Help me… She’s gone…” A panicked voice sobbed helplessly. The voice on the other line inhaled sharply. “Who’s gone?” “My daughter, Brielle. She’s gone. She’s- she’s not here anymore.” “Take a deep breath. What’s your name?” “Atta-” Atta tried to take deep breaths, but her lungs felt as if they’d been set to a flame. She gasped for air but vomited in the process. “Okay Atta, Give me your location and we will send officers as soon as possible.” Atta stated where she was located wh...

19 likes 4 comments 4
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