flash fiction

5-7-5 (take three-hundred-and-thirty-eight : the last morning)

she walked to the lake
this morning at six o’clock
at nine we found her

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Heavy Metal : a short fiction as prose

He shares a pact
with demons
or his sweatshirt would have you believe
he’s sold his soul
for the glory of the supreme satanic
and serves in turn
the morningstar
I must profess however
i’m thinking his acne
is a testament
to his getting the raw end
of that particular deal

Secret Origin : a short fiction as prose.

driven by an insatiable desire
to fight evil and injustice
but sadly lacking both
the physical means
and intellectual capacity
he would wait for thunderstorms,
whereupon he would douse himself
in a cocktail
of household chemicals
(a recipe he closely guarded)
and stand silently,
nervously,
expectantly,
in the garden
hoping for the transformation
a direct lightning strike would bring.