Flash Fiction Friday: My Choice

Artwork from Deviantart inspired me to write this flash fiction piece. Take a moment to read and comment.

Flash Fiction Friday: Here

Artwork from Deviantart inspired me to write this flash fiction piece. Take a moment to read and comment.

Flash Fiction Friday: Pixels

Artwork from Deviantart inspired me to write this flash fiction piece. Take a moment to read and comment.

Flash Fiction Friday: Price to Pay

Flash fiction inspired by artwork. Take a second to read the short piece.

Flash Fiction Friday: Fate

Lifeless, his body lay. Breathless, his chest sank. Motionless, his blood became. And a smirk curled my lips. She caressed his cheek. Words caught in her throat. Tears dangled on her lashes. But he was gone. And try as that young elf might, she failed. She didn't save him. She never could have for his fate was set.…

Advertisement

Flash Fiction Friday: Can’t Know

"Didn't know I could read?" Her blue eyes widen. Her dark eyebrows vanish beneath her black bangs as they raise. Her tone was quiet, innocent as she asked, "What do you think I do up here all by my lonesome?" Her gloved fingers touched her collarbone. The other hand grazed the brittle, weathered pages of the…

Flash Fiction Friday: Trickster

Her laugh lilts through the air like snowflakes dancing on the wind. Her thin, delicate fingers touch her pink lips to cover the laugh, her icy blue eyes watching me with amusement. "This is my disguise." Furry ears ease out of her layers of silver hair. A long, fluffy tail uncurls behind her. Extending towards me, it…

Flash Fiction Friday: Reaper

Her eyes glinted like rubies as the corner of her blood-red lips curled into a wicked smile. "Death, a man?" She scoffed. The wind whipped her wispy white hair about her delicate shoulders. "No, no." She shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving me. "Do you really think a man would be chosen as the Reaper of Death?"…

Flash Fiction Friday: Lost Myself

I wasn't supposed to be here. I wasn't supposed to see her. Yet, she didn't run. She didn't vanish. But she watched me with sorrowful green eyes, like she was a prisoner. Her look was pleading, like she wanted me to help her. But I didn't know how. I looked in the points of her ears.…

Flash Fiction Friday: Through Me

It wasn't in the tiny steps she took. It wasn't in the way she clutched her school bag with both hands. It wasn't in the way her messy bun always looked perfect. It was the way she looked at me. Her lips parted in a tiny gape. The outer edges of her eyebrows downturned like…