Flash Fiction No. 70

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Better The Lover You Know

It was the last kiss they would have and she didn’t know it.

He played the smile like he had a thousand times before, almost pulling it off. The question surfaced in her eyes but was brushed away as he hugged her close, hiding his face. He couldn’t let her see what he was about to do.

She stroked his hair, fingers clinging at the nape of his neck, and then kissed him lightly, ready to step on the train. He tugged her back, deepening the kiss, their last kiss. Flushed and bright eyed, she pressed onto the carriage.

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Flash Fiction No. 54

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The Choices We Make

“I-I can’t! I can’t!”

The words heaved, shuddered in between panicked sobs.

“Please, no! I-I can’t do it! Please! Pluh-Please!”

They ignored her and put the needle back in her arm. Her veins burned, her muscles coiled in white hot barbs, as she screeched and writhed. Sweat trickled low, collecting in salty droplets on her blistered lips.

Her body stretched and contorted, but still it didn’t work.

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Flash Fiction No. 50

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The Man With No Face
Starting with Merchandise, this is a continuation of Putrid Fume.

Was she screaming or were they?

“Get me my information!”

The noise seemed to come from everywhere, piercing her ears and spearing her brain. She writhed in the chair, eyes rolling back in her head and froth collecting on her lips, trapped between her body and her mind.

“In her arm! In her arm!”

Sharp pain.

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Flash Fiction No. 48

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Merchandise

Fuzzy eyes adjusted to the light. Sound bled in like water through raw sewage. Her head bumped against the glass, grey lines blurring by as the car grumbled at the fast moving bitumen.

Stale cigarette leaked out of the side door’s upholstery, stuffing her nostrils and twisting her stomach with a cold sickness. She closed her eyes again. Memories clamoured together in an attempt to reorder themselves. Muffled senses grasped at the hint of soil in the air and held on.

There’d been a boy and a man with no face. And a woman.

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