A Father’s Day Miracle – 100 Word Story

It was the fire that taught Jeff about miracles. After all, he shouldn’t have been there – Jeff never visited on Wednesdays. “Maybe I’ll see what the old man’s doing,” he’d said and when he pulled into the drive, the house was engulfed.

Reflecting, Jeff doesn’t know if his father would have escaped – so frail was he when Jeff found him, barely visible through the smoke. Jeff’s eyes shimmer. He smiles, grateful. He sees again his hands gripping the skinny ankles, hears anew the screams as he drags his father back into the flames. “Better safe than sorry,” Jeff whispers aloud.

Buried Treasure – Flash Fiction

He stood in a large hole, perhaps four feet deep and five or six in diameter. The digging was strenuous, the ground comprised of gravel and sand. With each thrust, the shovel stopped dead, sending a jolt through his arms, his shoulders, his back. Every few minutes, he dropped to his hands and knees to dig by hand. With his fingers, he unearthed heavy rocks, straining to wrestle them from the hole and heave them aside. The rocks dented and dulled his shovel, slowing his progress.

The air was crisp and the moon full; his body steamed through his shirt. He lifted the shovel from the hole, flat to the ground and perhaps a quarter full, and tossed its contents over his right shoulder. The sand made a brushing sound as it fell on dry leaves. He plunged the shovel into the earth again.

She stood behind him and said, “Why are you doing this?”

He stopped and let the shovel stand by its blade as he removed his cap and drew his arm across his forehead. The shovel stood upright for a moment then fell. “I have to find it,” he said.

She shook her head. “I don’t need it.”

Bending over, he grasped the shovel. “If I don’t find it now, We’ll have to wait until Spring.” He shook his head. “I can’t dig through the frost.”

She wrinkled her forehead and said, “Leonard, you’ve been out here for days! Weeks!” She moved close and he pulled away. She stopped and said softly, “Perhaps it’s not God’s will that it be found.”

“I don’t believe that. If He wants me to leave it out here in the wild, He needs to tell me plain. I ain’t interested in deciphering hints from The Almighty.”

She raised her eyebrows. “He is telling you. I’m telling you. Take the shovel home and draw yourself a warm bath. Put on dry clothes. Make a fire! Do the things you need to do to move on.”

He shook his head.

She smiled with sad eyes and said, “The landslide was not your fault. You don’t need to find my body.” She smiled. “It’s already buried.”

He fell to his knees in the dirt and covered his face with his hands. “No, no, no…” he cried.

“I have to go now, Leonard,” she said softly. “It’s time for us both to go home.”

She drifted away into the trees…

Leonard awoke with a start, his eyes wet and the television still on. Beside him, she lay sleeping, breathing deeply. He spooned her, and buried his face between her shoulder blades, pulling her close.

She faced the wall, smiling. “These dream pills were worth every penny,” she thought. “I am SO going shopping today.”

Now try this: The Predator


The Nihilist – Short Short

Maddie thinks she can change me. She puts her hand on my shoulder and spouts tripe. “The past is gone,” she says. “You can be whatever you choose to be.” Vapid life preservers that junkies toss about in twelve-step meetings or disillusioned young mothers post on Pinterest boards so they don’t slit their wrists in the tub.

I don’t resent her for it: she still thinks there’s some reason. It makes me smile but, when I do, nobody smiles with me. They avert their eyes and scatter.

The fact is, people don’t want to face reality, not really. They say they resent fakers and posers and frauds but they are, every one of them, a faker, a poser, a fraud. None of them considers that we’re nothing more than teeming insects on a spinning ball in space, a faint glowing coal that will soon smolder out and go cold.

Ashes to ashes and dust mites to dust.

“I was put on this Earth to write,” Maddie says, “and, by God, I’m going to do it!” She doesn’t regard the millions dead from starvation or disease or being blown to pieces by war.

“Weren’t they put on this Earth to do something?” I want to ask. “Is this what they chose to be?”

Maddie thinks she can change me and I let her live the lie. As for me, I’ve given up trying to change. In the end, only the full moon can make me into something I’m not and tonight, when it rises over the trees, I’ll become the wolf again.

And I’ll feast on her innocence.

Now try this: Ward’s Worthless Ward

Miguided Apprehension – 3 Line Story

The serial killer smiled down on me as he opened the trunk, “Hope you didn’t get motion sick-” he said. Then his eyes went wide as he realized I was no longer bound and gagged.

“No hard feelings,” I said removing the smile with a tire iron.


This post was a response to the Three Line Story Challenge. Photo courtesy: Wolf Schram

Now try this: The Forest Fire