Tag Archives: flash-fiction

Seven Days Of Sentences: Day 4

This daily writing challenge is making me want to do the daily writing thing in NaNoWriMo next month. I know I wouldn’t be able to finish the required 50k words this time around, but it is giving me the itch to get back to long form compositions. Okay, so here we go with the challenge at hand today, to tell a story or illustrate a scene in just one sentence. Don’t be afraid to do your own here and post it in the comments. Have fun!

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David stood at the tracks, watching the locomotive’s approach, thinking to himself that high school was over and stowing away on a boxcar would carry him to a better place.

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Seven Days Of Sentences: Day One

As an attempt to get my creative juices flowing again, I thought I would challenge myself, and hopefully challenge other readers/writers as well. So, beginning today I’m starting something I call, “7 days of sentences.” The challenge here is every day for seven days to paint a scene in just one sentence. The sentence can be as lengthy as you like , but once that period is in place, that’s it. The goal here is to create a story in as few words as possible. The story need not be complete, but it does need to describe a scene within that one sentence. In addition, throughout the seven day run, each day’s entry cannot be related to any of the others. At the end of this challenge, you should have seven unrelated sentences that would make starting points for seven different tales. It’s all about creativity and getting motivated to write something. Put your entry in the comments for this post and/or post it in your own blog. Be sure to link it back to this one, so I can read what you came up with. My first day’s attempt is below. Hope you enjoy. Now, let’s have some writing fun!

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Rain falls, and Anna watches the stars, wondering if one day she’ll be like a planet colliding with another, knocked off its axis, and spinning wildly into the beautiful darkness.

My Mina, My Doom (flash fiction?)

In the last dark hour, there is only love. I can feel it in the blood that courses through my veins. It is a warm, pulsating flow not my own, for I am but an empty husk without her and the richness of her gift. There is no need to take it from her, for she gives it willingly, knowing at any moment I could bring her to the very brink of death and let her slip. The danger, the fear, the sheer ecstasy of that moment comes and passes, for I let her live, leaving her enough blood to remain the beautiful woman she is. I do not wish to make her a monster like me, for it is her angelic qualities, the warmth of her flesh, the unaltered smile, that calls me to return again and again. Perhaps she is my Mina, for in that I know she is both my heart as it was and my doom as it shall be.

2017 Paul D Aronson.

The Train (flash fiction?)

The elevated train goes by outside my apartment window, it’s vibration on the track stirring me from my dream. Gone are the sprawling green meadows, snow capped mountains, and clear rolling rivers. Instead I am awakened to industry, crowds, and the fact I will soon be boarding the train that will carry me through the boroughs on my way to a job behind four walls, where I never feel the sun on my face or the breeze running through my hair. 
I am sick with longing. I watch videos on YouTube of other places, views from other trains, and wish to be there in quaint villages, walking on single lane roads by farmhouses and pastures, saying hello to people I meet and their livestock, as I worry about nothing except how hard the rain is supposed to fall tomorrow. No worry about the noise from the people upstairs, deadlines from supervisors who don’t work for their promotions, or the steady vibratory hum from the train outside my window on its way to its one hundred and fifty-seven stops in the city. 
I’m twenty-nine years old. Life is not supposed to be like this. I don’t know what I expected it to be, but not this. I look at all my Facebook friends and they seem so happy, as if everything is perfect, and yet I’m here behind these dull four walls I can barely afford, being awakened by the click-clack of the train, reminding me to get up and go to a job that I hate, dodging through crowds of strangers I don’t want to know. I just wish for once that when I board the train it would take me somewhere else. Somewhere different. Somewhere more adventurous than this…
By Paul D Aronson.

Hand Over The Girl: Dialogue Prompt for Sunday 12 Feb

Alright, here we go with yet another prompt. I really enjoy doing these, and I hope you don’t mind me passing the challenge over to you. I just find prompts a great warm up to get those creative juices going. So today, we have a slice of dialogue to inspire your flash fiction or short story. The object is to use this in its exact form somewhere within your text. In case you missed it in the image for this post, the dialogue to use is as follows:

“Hand over the girl.”

“Not going to happen.”

Again, Put this anywhere within your story. I did take it a step further personally by adding a further rule for myself: My flash fiction had to be told completely with dialogue. You don’t have to do yours this way if you don’t want to. I was just trying to challenge myself further. Okay , well here we go….

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One Morning Before Breakfast


“Hand over the girl.”

“Not going to happen.” 

“Are you crazy? We have you outnumbered.” 

“And your point is?..” 

“We can take her by force if we have to.” 

“That’s not a good idea.” 

“Ha! And why not?” 

“For every action there is a reaction. You are a ripple in the pond. Don’t turn it into a wave.” 

“I hated school teachers as a kid. I hate them even worse now, so just give us the girl.” 

“You can learn nothing from her. Leave her alone.” 

“We just want to talk to her about what she saw.” 

“She didn’t see anything. Nobody called the cops. Live and let live.” 

“I’m sorry, the boss wants to see her just the same. Just to make sure.” 

“I can’t let you take her.” 

“Come on, teach. Be smart. Don’t make me shoot you.” 

“You don’t understand.” 

“So make me understand and maybe I’ll let you live.” 

“She can’t go outside. Not yet anyway.” 

“What? Is she grounded or something? Teacher, giving her after school lessons in the dark? Ha-ha!” 

“No, she just likes it here in the dark.” 

“Freaking perv. How many little girls you bring down here in this dark, damp basement?” 

“I’m not a perv. I’m her teacher.” 

“Not for long, you ain’t. Now, one last time, hand..over…the …girl.” 

“I’m sorry Elena. These men want to talk to you. I tried my best. I guess I’m not much good at being a protector.” 

“That’s better, teach. Now get her out of that corner.” 

“Elena, it’s alright. You can come out and go with them. But just this one time, okay?” 

“That’s right girly, come out and go with us.” 

“Elena, remember what I taught you. Never for pleasure, always for survival, okay?” 

“Whatever, teach. Come on girl, we ain’t got all day. Earl, go over there and get her.” 

“Right, boss. I’m on it….hey, what’s up with her eyes? Why is she freaking smiling like that…..Aaaaaaaa!” 

“What the hell? Get her off of him guys!” 

“I told you she wants to stay in the dark.” 

“Oh my god, boss! She has…. Aaaaaa!” 

“I’m coming , hold on! I’m going to pump you full of lead, you little bitch!…What the shit? What..what the hell are you? I just emptied all my bullets into you!…No, get away from me! Why are you looking at me like that? Oh Mary, holy mother of Jesus, is that blood on your teeth? No, no, no!…… AaaaaAAA!” 

“Elena, don’t turn them. Survival only, remember? That’s a good girl. Come on, let’s get you away from the light. Whoa, you sure are heavy after you’ve had breakfast….” 

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2017 Paul D Aronson. 

Strange Days Indeed: About

As a writer, I find myself toying with different kinds of fiction and poetry. I love to explore unique themes, or at least ones that are unique to my normal fare. If I had to classify my writing , I’d say  I lean more towards vampires and ghosts, but I also like to indulge myself in cozy romance, humor, and every now and then, some sci-f or fantasy adventure. It is a bit of the latter that I now find myself assembling into a collection I call, Strange Days Indeed. 

Within the confines of this collection, I  hope to assemble all my “odd” writings that just don’t fit in elsewhere. Weird, bizarre, speculative perhaps, but definitely not my usual thing. Still, I hope maybe you’ll find something you can sink your teeth into for a brief moment. 

I’ll be posting these stories, and some poems, in random fashion, as I’m digging into my back catalogue of writing notebooks to see what oddities I can find . My main focus at the moment is the “Vampire Boys” serial, and the vampire themed poetry chapbook, “Blood Red Passion”, but I thought I’d throw some of these your way, too. Hope you don’t mind the distraction…

See you soon and happy hauntings, my friends…