realistic

More Very Short Stories, Mixed Genres

Here are five more very short stories I’ve written recently in a mix of genres—science fiction, dark fantasy, and realistic. I had posted them on twitter under #vss365 and #scififri. Also, if you are a writer, some of the members of #vss365 are going to be making an anthology of very short stories, submitted on twitter via the hashtag #vss365a. You can find out more on the Making Fiction website, so if you’re interested in submitting, check it out!

Orion

Capt. Dayne surveyed the icy surface of Enceladus from the deck of the Orion.

"What are the surface readings? When can we attempt a landing?" she asked her science officer.

"Tomorrow," came the taciturn answer.

"Good. We're ready."

"Perhaps."

Regrets

I have a thousand regrets. Paths not taken, love not given, friends lost for no real reason. But I have never regretted even one kiss I gave your soft baby face, or one nuzzle of your fuzzy hair. There is never enough time to tell you how much I love you.

Sudden Silence

I perk my head up, aware of the sudden silence.

"What are you doing?" I call, my heart beating in trepidation. No answer.

"Kids! What are you up to?" There's a flurry of footsteps and whispers.

"Nothing, Mommy!"

I start running upstairs.

Reciprocated

"What happened?" Sal yelled over the blaring alarms.

"Meteor," Jen said. "Pierced the hull."

"Isolate the compromised sector."

"That's us. We'll die."

"Put on your breather. We'll work fast and find a patch."

"Done. And I love you."

"Reciprocated."

A Dream

The sound of rain on her window inspires reverie. She runs a hand over her swollen belly.

Who will you be? she wonders.

The baby kicks. She closes her eyes. She sees the rain turn to blood, and the patter on her window becomes the sound of distant gunshots.

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Five More Realistic Very Short Stories

I’ve written five more realistic very short stories for the hashtag #vss365. I’m really please with how they turned out, especially considering how difficult I felt some of the prompt words were for the past couple of weeks.

Mermaids

They walked along the shore, picking up driftwood and other flotsam.

"What are we going to do with this?" one of the children asked.

"We're going to make mermaids," Mama said. “Sinuous driftwood tails, shells and pretty stones for eyes, seaweed hair.“

Wasteland

Useless, they said. Wasteland. They didn't see the way the sun set over the stony mountains, or the way delicately jeweled scarabs swarmed the dead like mourners at a feast. They didn't know how the sand purified the aquifer they needed to survive. Until too late.

Rain

Rain fell over the battlefield. The scent of petrichor mingled with the smells of blood and decay. Jasper lay where he'd fallen. Distant sounds from the victorious army's celebration reached his ears, but the only living he saw were ravens. He tried to sit up.

Stage Lights

The stage lights came up as the house lights faded. The audience held their breath in anticipation, and a frisson of excitement and fear trilled in her nerves. She took a deep breath and strode out, her violin cradled in her hands.

Library

I'm in the library, amidst a myriad of books. I touch their spines and gaze at fascinating covers, surrounded by joy and calm and quiet. And books, all the books I can read, true kind friends. I'm okay here. I'll be okay.

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