Scott makes a tally mark on his note pad.
“What’s the mark for?” Sharon asks.
“I’m working on patience. I make a mark each time I become impatient. It’s supposed to help by recognizing when it occurs.”
“What’s today’s count?”
“Twelve.”
Sharon frowns, “It’s just 9 a.m.”
“Make that thirteen!”

by Hugh James

High of eighty with no chance of rain. Beautiful. Everyone's been looking forward to this day. Sweat forms around my forehead; it's hot. July fourth. People are everywhere, waiting in anticipation. The sizzle, the pop, I burn myself. No time to complain, I'm working the grill at McDonald's.

by Hudson Kemna

With each key and every string the world disappears. Like a burning ember slowly fades in the coolness of a summer night. Glowing all the while, illuminating what was once covered in darkness. Just enough to sparkle in your eyes revealing the depths of your soul. Alive. Pure. Free.

by Hudson Kemna

This is not fiction, it's a question to you, the readers. I've got this backlog that I'm working on adding to the blog. I've been adding about 10 pieces at a time, but I just got a new submission.

What do you think? Should I continue to publish the older stuff in the order it was received until I get to the new submissions, or do I publish all the older stuff to a date in the past and give the new stuff today's date to keep the newer things at the top of the blog?

Thanks for visiting, and for letting me know what you think.

Now that you've read some short-short fiction, how about some bad poetry? Come to my new site and submit a poem. Make it a really bad poem from your adolescent years. Submit any poetry to the same e-mail address, fifty word fiction, but make sure to indicate that you're submitting to Bad Poetry either in the subject line or at the beginning of the message.

Thanks for visiting!

Sand is grating under foot when the black water embraces me. Over my head
and air is no longer mine to share. Something explodes within me; I burst to
the surface screaming to live. I am enlightened by the thought of what I
almost threw away-- The flavor of life.

by Jody Montoya

The coffee table's edge is my goal; so tantalizing, so unattainable. I
chew a cookie, wet my pants, and plot anew. The cigarettes and coffee of my
elders will be mine. Rolling over, I squirm again; alas, scooped up. I
shouldn't have pooped too--foiled by smell.

by Jody Montoya

A fifty word fiction, “Now that’s a short story!” I told her. She agreed with a nod but little else; she was writing her own.

It would have been easier I suppose had I the slightest clue ‘what’ to write about. And then I realized I had already done it.

by Relsieg d'Arb

First wife called me a pack rat. I guess she
was the only one that saw me that way.
Second wife didn't stay with me past the
honeymoon.
Third wife saw my collections and panicked.
Fourth wife seemed eager to join the others.
I wish I would have married them alphabetically.

by Daniel K. Brower

Stanislaus Komansky drove a Nova, perfectly tinted avocado with a rust spot near the bumper. He avoided inspecting the paint's imperfection just as he avoided the imperfection he perceived in the mirror. It had been seventeen years since he had seen his face. He wondered, "Any rust spots on me?"

by Amalisa Piccinino

After the peaceful years he came home singing,
on a lame camel, over the mountain,bringing trouble,
spoiling everything.
His father running and skipping to greet him,
his brother sulking, kicking sand.
The servants, charmed,danced all evening,
while I, grieving in the kitchen,
poisoned his portion of fatted calf.

by M D Essinger

From the top of Dharma Mountain you can see almost everything and hear almost nothing except birdsong. Here an old pine tree preaches wisdom and a wild bird cries out truth. The mountain always seems to ask me a question. Today's question: What is Zen? Zen is being present even in your absence.

Monty R. Nolan

We dine outdoors on a warm April evening, too tired
and not talking. Dinner becomes tasteless. So walk me
to my car and kiss me goodnight. No. Please, not yet.

Months spent waiting, but no word. Suddenly he smiles
an invitation. Maybe music and dinner bring that now
anticipated kiss.

by Lilly

I thought I only had to cuddle. I assumed my only obligations would be to join tea parties with panda bear or keep monsters at bay while she softly dreamed. Now it seems, I was always meant for this higher purpose, to be the effigy of her inner child.

by Mueller Nylander

Three days to go and off to college,

Room full of boxes and stuff.

Standing on the brink of adulthood, independence

Future unknown, stretching far as thought can imagine.

Possibilities, which road to take, choices, how should I travel…

To do it over again, nah… not in this lifetime anyway.

by Roz

Yesterday Dale waved me to his cubicle. “Steve,” he whispered, “I’ve been living a lie.”

Living a lie?

Dale?

Now, Rip Torn, sure. Eddie Money? Come to think of it, yeah. But you? Sorry, Dale. Talk to Janine: she’ll gab with you.

by Michael Brown

It did not matter to her. She had left him on his birthday. He had been part of her for so long, but now she chose to leave him with strangers so that she could do the things she had done before. She was a prostitute, he was an orphan.

by George Tolson

He didn’t understand why bicyclists wore such fancy shorts, but no helmet. Weirdos. What he wanted was to have his bike tire repaired. Was that so much to ask? He looked for a bike shop, (walking around half the day) but found nothing. Disappointed, he walked the slow road home.


by Mavis Farr

He dug in with his back foot until it fell perfectly into place. The pitcher’s stare gave him an incredible rush as they locked eyes and prepared for the final confrontation. He knew immediately that it was over when the ball left the hurler’s hand.

by John Ferracuti

A woman slit her wrist. Blood, a liquid, very red, trickled at first and then oozed as her skin gave way. Green nerve was invisible in the crimson bordello. Two minutes into death she heard somebody sobbing.

Her two year old was crying.

She had forgotten to feed him.

by Rajarshi Singh

It took its toll; too far, glad my pre-arranged ride showed up early.

Even Missy, my canine companion, the tireless Frisbee chaser, was drained.

We luxuriated in the air-conditioned car, soft cushions massaged my body, she stretched out in the rear of the SUV.

Exercise and bonding, a satisfying day.

by Roz

They will never be worth this.
So now what idiot, I ask myself.
Was all this pain and suffering worth it?
Mary was right, I was born out of time.
Okay, fine. You wanted a martyr, you got it!
Father, Into Your Hands I Commend My Spirit.
Here I come.

by Daniel Brower

They held hands. The sun was bright and strong it stung their eyes.The boy
sniffed, his sister grasped tighter. The early morning air was cold, their
hands were cold, they shivered in their winter coats. She called to them and
waved. With small hands they slowly waved good-bye

by Ali Waks

If you’d asked Samuel, he’d say life’s too important to do anything like that. Samuel’s boring, so you’ll ask Lizzie instead. She'll take your hand and say, "Next week I’m gonna apply to be on a reality television show. Reality is the last place anybody will look for the living."

by Laurel Hudgins

They ate lobster every day for a week, in every way, shape & form you could imagine. It's hard to believe that you could grow tired of lobster, and seafood in general, but it can happen. I don't even want to look at another lobster for at least another year.

by David Stalcup

once told me never open the door nor speak to a stranger, I took his word for it and that is why I can thank him for what I am today. A mother who has passed these wise words onto my daughter hoping one day she will do the same....


by Natasha Cramb

Well it began like this, "What do you mean at home without a doctor or midwife?"

Her eyes searched him out with, "I've done this three times before Dad! I know what I's doing."

And yesterday he smiled, "What will you name him?"

Her eyes again, "I've done this three times before too Dad!"

by strohm

My foot pushes. My arm pulls. My head braces and I race into the wind. I am fast and it is everything that I remembered. I am free. I am me. I am wild and I can see.

Then I feel it. In the guts. I miss him. My tether.

by Gwyn

A happy little sunbeam forced its way through the curtains, and I groaned
and pulled the pillow over my head. When I opened my eyes, the first thing
I saw were the boots lying next to the bed. I shut my eyes again. Another
damn cowboy! Would I never learn?


Willa

It looked at the moving objects in its surroundings. So many things were
happening; so much information to be processed. It curled itself up in a
ball until another of its kind approached. It uncurled itself and said:
“Luckily I am a sow bug and cannot think.”

by Etienne LeBel

While Juan was away urinating, his pet monkey escaped and ran across the bar, spilling the gentleman’s drink. The enraged gentleman caught his monkey and felt the little hairy fellow should be punished. He held down my monkey and raised one arm. Juan returned, yelling “Please don’t spank my monkey.”

by Michael R. Catledge

Sally looked at Billy knowing he would never come back again, not in the flesh anyway. How could this have happened? Billy, dead now ten years still stirred emotions. "Come Sally, let's take a walk," says Billy. She grabs Billy's hand and together they walk through the asylum doors again.

by Chance Landry

My name is Patch the Pirate.

I am the captain of my ship.

All the crew is in the galley,

No one's at the helm,

The cook is serving bread and jam.

The first mate is in the crownest,

She's never ever awake.

That's why we seldom find a ship

To board or sink beneath our wake.

by strohm

He’s gone again on his treasure hunt.

Wandering in that smelly place, looking for so-called treasure.

The house is full of treasure. The place is short of space. Where will they be stacked?

Who would have thought the rubbish tip had more books than a library for him to read?

By Adrian

Freedom.
That's what it was.
Money in hand - She did it.
A wicker basket on the handlebars.
Back in time riding through the lanes collecting kesh and dandelions for Willy Wiffin,the rabbit.
"Give us a ride in yer basket Missus."
Momentary annoyance.
The swerve, the clatter, the indignity.
Laughter!

by Vivienne Edmondson

The bills were ten days over due, and although he had the money he did not
have the discipline to write out the checks and enter the transactions into
Quicken. E-mail was easier. A referral to fifty word fiction seemed like a
fun diversion, so he wasted time on that.

by Chuck O'Brien

"Elise", he spoke softly, "do you feel okay?"
"Yes. I'm a little nervous is all," she replied as she pulled her hair back and wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead.
He smiled and said, "It won't be that bad. I still remember my first time and it was nothing."
She looked up at him -- her eyes heavenly in the light. "I'm worried about the pain. I mean, I'm already sixteen, and never needed to see a dentist before now."

by Carlos Palomino

I‘m wearing your bracelet today. I love it. It’s beautiful. Honestly, it’s the first day that I've worn it since we ended. For some reason I couldn't wear it until today. It hurts as I look at it because it reminds me of something that I can't have. You.

by Carrie Johnson

Submission was a head long road to apathy. Now, it
was a life severed from reality, from truth, a life no
longer torn apart by anger and fear; that dread. Bald,
broken; a body and a mind atrophied by radiation and
drugs of chance. There was the nothingness times
infinity.

by center_of_time

Lying against the white Roman style porcelain tub, I
lifted my hand above the water, head level, with dead
eyes—my hand looked so lovely. The sloshing of the
water and the fell of liquid upon and into the lustrous
water was hypnotizing. Red, my red, never looked so beautiful.

by center_of_time

I could tell it was her. I knew it before she knocked. We're connected, me and her. By some unseen force. She didn't wait for me to open the door. She opened it and stood there on the threshold, tears in her eyes. I could hear the sound of heartbeats.

By Pablo Control

Chain made him alive. The haunting whisper of wind though a chain link fence, the soft and sublime metallic sound made when Grandpa twirled his pocket watch, the glint of gold chain in a jeweler’s window. His was not a job it was servitude. He was a wrecking ball operator.

by yamilate

Rain pelts the ground and wets the window sill as Karen sits in her chair and sips her milky coffee. The increasing drops of rain lulls Karen to sleep. A soft knock on her door is missed as she dreams of lavender fields.

by J Woods

It was a full moon when I met you.
On a crowded dance floor you were alone.
I walked over to you. You looked into my eyes.
Smiling, you whispered your name in my ear.
I whispered mine.
You held my hand, pulled me close.
Together we danced until dawn.

by Fay Piñera

All I want, and all I need... an unbreakable heart... that never bleeds.
One shining moment, if I could stop time, to find myself and lose my
mind.
Somehow... I think I'd be okay... just saddle-up, point it down the road,
and fade away...

James Ashworth

Pulling up the glossy boots, she felt flush. She
peeled off her shirt, peeked at the mirror
approvingly, then stepped out of the skirt. Blushing,
breathing shallow, seeming more exposed, she stepped
into the living room. He barely glanced up from his
magazine. “You’re so predictable,” he sighed, reading again.

by Marcie V.

I was at my campsite playing the fiddle when I heard a small sound coming
from the leaves near my feet.

A chipmunk.

As I watched, it sneezed again with a little shudder.

I played a few more notes; the chipmunk sneezed, then scratched behind its
ears like a dog.

by Bets E.

I've been neglectful. Extremely neglectful. I'm sorry.

But, I'm going through my e-mail right now and I'm going to post everything I can. It's summer, after all. Plus I'm bored, so there's that.

I'm going to start with the oldest and go forward from there. There's a few hundred submissions in backlog, so it might take a while.


Please feel free to submit using the link on the right, if you like. Keep in mind that it might not get posted right away.

The world of Mathematics is very odd. A vector beckons you to enter, and soon you can see logarithm and indices dancing gaily in a deep cavern. Radians and tangents quickly follow, frolicking madly while surrounding you. Soon you are trapped in a maze of trigonometry with no way out.

by Cloudramza

We ordered three fish sandwiches. We waited and waited.
I asked the waitress what was taking so long. She said the chef was working on it.
I went to the back by the lake. I saw a guy in a large white hat with a pole in the water.

by Docwessel

by Joseph Katri

You touch me, and I am fire.

Enticing,
inviting,
igniting the very core of my soul.

You, scarred stranger
of my thoughts,
dreams,
desires.

We meet, yearn, touch
merge, meld
soar.

Once again, I am woman.


Renee Sereno
Modesto, CA

He came home from work with a 12 pack and some smokes.

After 5 or 6 beers he turned the stereo on full blast, playing bluegrass and old country.

I said, "Stop".

He didn't.

I pulled out a shotgun and blasted his Magnavox into a million pieces.

by Bonnie

She had resented the autistic brother kids in school called “Jupiter.” She avoided him in the halls.

Now she had cared for him for 15 years.

He lay in a hospital bed, dying. He didn’t watch baseball games, he didn’t eat. He didn’t seem to care. But she was shocked.

by Frances Harris Segerson

Angels watch Mankind, if they could they would weep,

Demons torment Mankind, their presence a vile scourge,

God created Mankind, suffering as He did,

Knowing that in the End, their was future bleak and
grim,

And yet......the story is not over.....

by Damon Bradley

He slips the envelope underneath the door.
$100.00 a week buys him freedom, washes him clean of guilt.
He hears his children beyond the door, but he won't ring the bell.
He'll be from here to the lobby door in one giant leap,
thinking to himself "phew! what a relief."

by Delia Fonseca

Johnny has a huge finger on each of his three arms and an eye in the middle of his forehead.

He is not from around here. He is an alien.

His brother Jimmy lives in Cleveland.

by Henry Wessel

“I’m so blessed,” she said, “that God was watching over me when the bomb when off. I lost my legs, but think of all those people who died!”

He had to ask. “Think if he’d been watching a little harder, there would have been no bomb?”

“What do you mean?”

Jimmy jumped from the tall building to commit suicide.
Half way down he had second thoughts - did he really want to die? He decided he did.
He was lucky because by then it would have been too late.

Henry Wessel

"When their car dies one wintry night in Astoria, three college kids battle the elements and each other to find their way home."

I wrote and rewrote the story, convinced of its movie potential, forgetting that in reality we all had jackets, credit cards, and enough cash for a cab.

by Gerald So

When she was five years old, she loved to sing Where Have All The Flowers Gone? with her Mommy at bedtime. It made perfect sense to her then. Singing her favorite song three years later, her world view of symmetry, justice and life were shaped by it. Sing it, baby.

by Debora Selinger

He was a loving husband
but she hated him. It has
been eleven years and she
had been scheming to kill him.
They were in the bath tub.

She asked him
if he wanted to listen to the radio.
"Yes!" he replied.
She threw the radio into the tub -
ZAP!

by Cloudramza