Category Archives: Flash Fiction

Black Coffee

Back Coffee –100 Word Wednesday; Week 23

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Image Credit Jesse Williams

Black Coffee

Of all the off beat diners in town Alma picked my haunt, Pearl’s.
‘Discrete,’ she said, ’it’s not in our neighbourhood.’
Yea, she’s a dame all right, black coffee, eggs over easy with chilli wings.
Seated with her long stockinged legs swinging, I know her type, a derringer inside her garter.
She nodded at the papers and photo on the bar, then offered to buy me a coffee. How sweet.
‘Just sign,’ she said, ‘or . . .  she’s dead meat.’
The picture said it all; Pearl’s eyes petrified and pleading, mascara running over the taped mouth, body trussed like a turkey.
I agreed, it wasn’t a great holiday snap.
I signed, and I let my lousy wife, Alma, walk away with a million dollar settlement.
Five minutes later, Pearl came screaming in, and she levelled a .45 Magnum at my forehead.
I’ll admit, she had a point.

Tempting Guacamole

Tempting Guacamole – 100 Word Wednesday.

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Dear Pips,

Please come back, I miss you, my darling Pips.
I’m sorry I was rude, about your lovely hips.
I love you and miss your gregarious smiles
I love you and forgive you for kissing Miles
Look, I’ve bought your favourite chilli tortilla chips
Because I know you love my guacamole dips.

Please come and trust me, my darling Pips
I’m sorry I was rude, about your lovely lips
I miss you, so let’s forget about you loving Jay
I miss you, see now, how my anger’s gone away
Look! I’ve spiced up your favourite tortilla chips
Because! I know you love my guacamole dips.

A Rat in every Port

A Rat in every Port – Three Line Tales

 

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Photo – Timothy Meinberg  via Unsplash.

‘The Jellicle’ sails on the morning high tide,
Hurry Captain Growtiger, get on board,
and quick before Miss Kitty wakes.

Drifting in Time

Drifting in Time.100 Word Wednesday

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Image by Sandra Jane

My relief; we made it back to the docks. Exhausted, I’ve been rowing with the current ever since the Meridian sank. When? How strange that the harbour is in a dilapidated state and abandoned, all in a space of one week. I sense an eerie chill, of being observed, that bristles the hairs on my neck. This is no welcome and this is not home.

I nudged Holmes awake from his sleep, he is delirious due to his allergy to sunlight and I note his aversion to physical exertion, except puffing of hashish from his pipe. Well, Watson, he had said before we sailed, if I can’t get the true elixir then this potpourri will suffice.
‘We made it Holmes,’ I shouted, glad to be alive.
‘Yes,’ he said and sat up in the boat for a better look. ’We are indeed here, but at the same time we are not.’ He grabbed at his pocket watch and checked the hour. ‘Oh! What year is this? Ah! Doctor, yes yes how very clever.’
‘What!’ I didn’t get his demented drift. ‘Clever?’
‘Oh yes, the Doctor is afoot.’ He grinned. ‘Let’s tread with care.’
‘Who?’
‘Precisely, Watson. The Time Lord himself.’

Reader Expectations.

I am aware that all readers have their own tastes and expectations when they choose a book. Many are die hard fans of their chosen genre and will consume every variation of their vampire sagas, romantic encounters or else stories about the flawed detective in police procedurals and crime novels. Readers know what they like and what they want!

Do we write to please the reader or please ourselves?  It is almost like two different planets of the universe. Those who write to please the reader live in big houses, while those who write to please themselves are on welfare – I believe – or else have a day job.

Book review:Case of the Mahjong Dragon

The latest review on my collection of Russell Holmes stories has made me consider some awkward realisations about my book.

Have I misled or deceived the readers’ expectations?

By using the name Holmes and having a similar collection of characters, albeit the stories are set in Glasgow rather than London, have I unwittingly sullied the genre? The POV is that of the lead character and the idea is similar in style to Sir Author Conan Doyle’s most famous private detective Sherlock Holmes. However, I did not adhere to the strict code of the true pastiche and have unintentionally varied the imitation such to confuse readers, who may have expected a firm Sherlock Holmes story, by creating conflicting images in their minds.

Perhaps publishing my take on a Victorian detective, I have inadvertently fell into a trap set by Moriarty and dipped my toes in an acidic bath of offence towards all true Holmes fans. But then again for all ‘you’ know I just might have accepted Moriarty’s challenge to subvert all who live in 221B.

I note however the world of films have their own unwritten rules: that is just do what sells.

In all honestly I am grateful to the reviewer for their honest opinion and the fact they have taken the trouble to read my book and I am sure secretly enjoyed it.

Waiting for the night

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Image by Bukurgurl

The Lighthouse (100 Word Wednesday)

Oh lonely, oh lonely was the lighthouse keeper.
and for ninety years he guided ships in this cove.
But now he haunts the night with a ghostly flicker.

Is She my Type?

Blind Date.

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Street Art in Glasgow, Scotland

They said she’s nice, so don’t be late
You’ll recognise her beautiful smile
And she’ll be wearing the latest Prada style
My nervous excitement, on a blind date

I saw her, gorgeous, laughing at the bar
Dressed in fashionable hugging stripes
Enchanting, attracting extroverted types
Like a prowling stag, ready armed for war

There is something about the fading light
That brings out an instinct in my mind
A sort of sublime emotional mating kind
That drives survival, but perhaps not tonight.

 

 

On a Wing and a Prayer

Three Line Tales – On a Wing and a Prayer

 

Over the world and in peace, feeling the quite serenity
of flying and softly floating free from earthly responsibility.
But all too soon, we’ll land on the insecure realities of insensibility.

Alice Wants Home

Alice Wants Home – Three Line Tales

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photo by Fleur Treurniet via Unsplash

‘Only the Unicorn knows your way home,’ the owl screeched. ‘Which way, which way, which way.’ It glided into the dark.
‘Wait!’ shouted Alice. Alone she looked around. No entry, one way street going both ways. A window in the yard.
She stamped her foot and wept. Could she really climb the drain pipe? But she must to find the Unicorn.

Chocolate Desire

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Image by Bikugurl 2016

Chocolate Desire – 100 Word Wednesday – Week 6

See how I shiver with lecherous impulsive greed as you tempt me with your dark smooth and sultry sweetness.

See how I drool, as I am forbidden to stroke your caramel coloured skin, as my fingers warm with desire to caress your buttery interior.

See how I gasp, as you open and part your chocolate softness and I lust after to lick the musty slit clean of oozing sweet cream.

See how I blush, as you provocatively tease and I quiver as if in the silent moment of commitment before the touch of an adulterous kiss.

I’m yours, Dark Temptress.