Flash fiction — The Blank Page

Blog Sweet Blog Part 2 - A James To Kill For

‘It’s one of those nights. I can taste it at the back of my throat. One of those slick, dark, sharp nights. The day’s rain has left a gleam on every sidewalk that could put a new razorblade to shame. The shallow end puddles are reflecting the unsullied stars; tempting the broken and the lonely to come on down before the sun rises and drown themselves in the illusions waiting for them in the gutter.’

Please Note - This is the second part of the ongoing social experiment Blog Sweet Blog. Make sure you have read part one before reading this. Read it thoroughly, read it out loud to a pet, and do your best to note the subtext regarding British Imperialism and the birth of the roller skate.

There will be test later…

…when you least expect it.

Blog Sweet Blog, Flash fiction, Short storyChristopher Long16 January 2023Private detective, Detective story, WizardsComment

Blog Sweet Blog Part 1 - One Small Step for Dan

Now is a time of crisis. In fact, as we move deeper into the 2020s, I think we can finally admit that now is a time of many crises. Many, many crises. It’s a tidal wave of crises. A crisis crisis. You can’t move around here for crises. They get under your feet. They get in your food. They get knotted in your hair.

If only we’d found some way to harness the speed with which they reproduce, then maybe we could’ve used them as a new power source. That would’ve sorted out the energy crisis. Or we could’ve rounded them on, kept them on farms, set them up as a new food group.

“What looks good, darling?”

“I hear the Cajun crisis sliders are to die for.”

The Reluctant Optician

It was a magic trick that very rarely received the applause it deserved. Certainly it wasn’t as flash as some. No ladies were cut in two. No one stepped over a bed of scolding nails or guessed the capital city that someone in another room had written down and sealed in a golden envelope. Still, it was magic none the less. Just of the more everyday variety. Similar to the strain that occasionally left a fiver in a summer jacket pocket.

Story, Short story, Flash fiction, Witchcraft, MagicChristopher Long3 June 2019Witches, Newts, Magic, Shopping, Frogs legsComment

Who's Who 19: About the Author

He’d watched too many versions of the same myth. He could spot the seams between the ad breaks now. The recognisable traits. The revolving carousel of non-threatening villains. The shiny fights. The interweaving soap operas. The cameos just for the true geeks, there to invest a marketing exercise with a little purchased history, borrowed as credit for credibility.

Story, Short story, Overthinking, Flash fictionChristopher Long12 April 2019Who's who, Story, Overthinking, WritingComment

Who's Who 18: Behind the wigs and masks

The large, sleek car pulled up in front of the black iron gates and waited patiently. The engine purred demurely as the expensive, designer barriers responded to a remote control pressed behind those tinted windows. Once they had gracefully reached ninety degrees and come to a complete stop, the car pulled forward, barely raising its voice.

Story, Short story, Flash fictionChristopher Long5 April 2019Who's who, Comics, Horror, Origin storyComment

Who's Who 17: Exit

He stood on his side of the cones, safely away from the roar of the commuting game trail. A cigarette tucked between his cold lips as he watched the traffic bluster past, heading towards the roundabout. Some people were only a junction or some winding country roads away from their employer. Others had motorways to face or trains to converge with. A few went past on their push bikes. Bags over their shoulders. Shoe laces tied loose and a little close to the gears for his liking.

Story, Short story, Flash fictionChristopher Long29 March 2019Who's who, Death, Grim Reaper, Morning commute, Modern godsComment

Who's Who 15: Weathervane

I should be able to hear that old wind chime I picked up at the antique fair. The night this storm hit, I was worried I’d lost it. I couldn’t hear it. I figured the wind had wrecked it. Next morning, it was fine. Every single morning, it’s been fine. No pots blown over either. The bins where I left them too. Every fence panel intact. How is that possible? Listen to it out there. That wind sounds like it should be tearing off roof tiles with its teeth.

Story, Short story, Flash fictionChristopher Long15 March 2019Who's who, Story, Storm, Whispers, Horror, Ghost storiesComment

Who's Who 14: The Immaculate Carousel (An Introduction)

No two men were more fascinating in the world of model fairground construction than Nigel Fairfax and Jacob T Kilburn. Not that you need me to tell you that. We live in different times now. Fairfax, Kilburn and the whole Tempo Generation are no longer the controversial figures they once were. We have come through far more interesting times since then. Times they held open the small, to scale door open for; waving them all through to a better future.