The Colour of Victory

red moon copy-1024x768

copyright: Dean Tomasek » NATURE » Red Moon


Smoke burned my eyes. Through tears I could see a crimson moon rise from behind the hills, dripping red, shedding blood as it went up, ridding itself from the filth of our victory.

For Trifecta.  I posted this just in time! Hope you like it.





Changing Shapes


Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

Lying down hand in hand with a boy with no other intention except to gaze up at the passing shapes above, we used to hypothesise and ponder; were they strong enough to walk on?

A few years passed and I was up among them, looking at them.  I saw cotton valleys and mountains; a whole magical world made of white and I wondered; was there anything more beautiful?

Now, glancing up I see rain coming and when up among them, looking through them, all I see is my tomb thirty-five thousand feet below; is there a death more horrible?


For Friday Fictioneers. No dark fiction from me this week; just stark, cold reality. Hope you like it anyway.

The Speed of Mouth

It all started when Emma told Donna that she liked Fred. At the time they both giggled and left it at that.

Later that day, when Donna was walking home from the bus drop-off with Pippa, Donna found herself at a loss for words.  Pippa, who was in with the cool crowd, only walked with Donna because she had to, them living on the same street and all, so when Donna felt that familiar awkward silence coming on, she fished frantically inside the innards of her brain for a topic.  And she found it; only, when Donna told Pippa that Emma liked Fred she scrunched up her nose and tried hard to sound all-knowing; “Not just likes Fred…she likes-likes him.” Who could blame Donna? This was Pippa she was talking to!  Pippa shrugged and allowed the silence to fester. It was not until the next morning that the little piece of news came in handy.

She was sitting in the aura of Maggie; taller, blonder, more beautiful than Pippa could ever be.  Gazing at the jocks walking by, Maggie disturbed the air with a high-pitched; “I dunno what you’re all looking at! They’re all little boys!”

“Hmm-mmm, we all know what your type is!” said Sammy, and Maggie smiled her I’m-so-grown-up-and-mysterious smile, which basically gave her a duck face.  Pippa, who in the two years of high school had become allergic to that smile, began to simmer; “If it’s Fred you’re talking about, forget it.  He likes Emma!”

And that was the last peaceful morning Emma spent at that school.  She was jeered at and bullied to the brink of depression until her parents dragged her and their belongings out of town.

Still, Emma got it better than Fred did.  His attorney pleaded with the judge that it was only a rumour, and the judge should know how rumours fly; especially ones so juicy.  But the judge didn’t buy it and Prof. Fredrick Simmons ended up in jail for abusing a minor.


For Trifecta.  The word given to us this Monday was FLY:

You know it actually took me two days to come up with a story?! But my mind pulled through in the very early hours of the third day (It’s 00:53 over here).  Hope you like this one.

A Moment

I stare vaguely out the window; passing shops, trees, faces, many faces.  One stands out.  The bus pauses at a stop and our eyes meet – one moment, one full second longer than a casual glance should have lasted – the bus moves on and the moment – that moment rich in possibilities – is gone.

Trifextra this week asked as to write a full story in three sentences.  Well, two of my sentences are bursting at the seams, but they are there, all three of them, nonetheless.

Have a nice weekend.

Burning Embers

Today ten years ago, I started life.  And you were there.  We met on the sand, next to the bonfire that the others lit up; do you remember? Our eyes first met while yours were smiling and mine were rolling upwards in disdain – all those school notes and books burning for our entertainment; I couldn’t stand it, the folly of it all.  But you came over, round the bonfire, and told me not to worry.  We talked all night after that.  Every little detail that our minuscule span of experiences gave us subjects to talk about, we touched them all.  I knew everything there was to know about you by the time the last embers died out;  all except your name.  We forgot to exchange those; we were that enthralled.  Do you remember?

Ten years passed since then

And we are still together

You and I my friend

Continue reading



Copyright – Sarah Ann Hall

I grew up in the shadow of that fence, wondering what might lie behind it.  I invented characters, created worlds.  I remember standing at its foot, calling out, hollering the names of my imaginary friends. No one ever answered of course, not in real life, but I heard their replies back then.  I made loads of friends like that; fairies, dwarves, elves.

Now, as I stand here, peering over the fence, it all comes back to me.  It turns out there’s nothing behind it; just a rusty shed and an overgrown garden; millions of dollars wasted away by decay.

For Friday Fictioneers.

I wanted to go for some fantasy this week, but it wouldn’t come to me! Hope you like the alternative.