Ramen (Flash Fiction)

The ramen slowly softened in the bubbling water while Mandy watched.  She knew she should eat, but she wasn’t hungry.

“Hey Mandy, watcha doing?”

Mandy smiled a sad smile and shook her head.  “Making some food.”

Kristofer came over and joined her staring at the dancing noodles.  “Can I have some?”

“You can have all of it.  I was just thinking I didn’t want it anymore.”

Kristofer looked at her face, but Mandy kept her vision focused on the noodles. “Really, you can take it.”  She ripped open the flavor packet and dropped its contents into the pot, staining the water a turmeric yellow.  The promise of salty goodness bloomed in the air, and Mandy gave herself a little hug.

Kristofer grabbed a bowl and came back to the pot.  “Do you think it’s done?”

Mandy stirred the soup, watching how the noodles tried to entangle themselves around the spoon, but Mandy was too fast for them.  She was able to navigate those waters without any attachment.  “Yep.  It’s done.”  She picked the pot up by its handle and expertly poured the steaming liquid into the proffered bowl.  “Enjoy.”

Kristofer took the bowl and was soon slurping the contents.  “Are you sure you don’t want some?” he asked while chewing.

Mandy finally looked him in the eyes, allowing her to ignore his mouth and her stomach.  “Nope.  I’ll be fine.  It’s all good.”


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Convolution (a 100 word story)

“Microscopic processes determine macroscopic properties, yet the human ego assumes causal effect upon the world around it, bending it to its will through shear willpower and dominance of reality.”

“What did you say?”

“Humanity has a way of altering perception to meet the expectations and assumptions that coincides with the belief system of the observer.”

“Say what?”

“The observable is objective depending on perspective and the inherent life narrative of the person in question.  Thus multiple flawed testimonies are needed to correct for the systematic error.”


“Humans will believe what they want to believe.”

“I don’t believe it.”




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A Modern Parable

Bite sized stories didn’t grow on trees, but this one was nuts.  A little boy went to school wearing his sister’s dress.  He kept a determined but thoughtful look on his face as he entered the school.

There were some giggles around the room when he entered.  His teacher stopped what she was doing.  ”Why are you wearing a dress?”

The little boy just shrugged his shoulders and didn’t say anything.  The teacher stared at him for a moment to see if he would say more, but he stood there silently so she decided to let it go.

At lunch time it was raining, so everyone stayed inside.  The little boy’s friends started laughing out loud when he sat at their cafeteria table.  “What?” he asked.

“Come on, why the dress?” asked Shelia.

“He wants to be closer to his mommy,” said Steve as he picked at his nose.

“Nah, his mamma is so stupid she put the wrong clothes on him after taking a hit of meth,” said Zoltan.

“Come on man,” repeated Shelia.  “Why the dress?”

Still the little boy said nothing and just ate his lunch.  He suffered many more insults, but through it all he was quiet, just occasionally shrugging his shoulders.

After school, before he walked off school grounds, the local bully pushed him from behind.  “What’s up with your clothes?” he guffawed.  The little boy tried to rush away, but the bully pushed the little boy in the back again, causing him to almost fall down.  “I think you forgot your bra.”

The little boy turned and stared the bully right in the face.  Then he shrugged his shoulders and turned to leave.

The bully struck him to the side of his head, throwing the little boy down into a large mud puddle.  “Awe, looks like the little girl is all dirty.”

The little boy sat up in the mud puddle and shrugged his shoulders.  The bully flipped him the bird and spit at him before finally leaving him alone.

The little boy picked himself out of the mud puddle and waddled his way home, his shoes squishing drown water with every step.  His ear bled for a while from where his earlobe had split from the bully’s hit.  Many people stared at him as he continued his walk, but they were silent, not knowing how to approach such a different sight.  In a way he was happy about it, but in a way it hurt him that no one stopped him to find out what was wrong.  He eventually shrugged his mental shoulders and moved on.

The little boy finally got home.  His sister was there with her arms crossed and her frown turning angrier when she saw what state her dress was in.  Before she could say anything the little boy broke into sobbing tears and ran up to her, smothering her with a fierce hug.

His sister was confused, but eventually returned the hug back.  She was quiet as he exhausted his anguish on her.  Finally when he started to calm down she held him out at arm’s length.  She looked him in the eyes and asked him one word, “Why?”

The boy shrugged then shook his head no.  “You told me last night that to know what someone goes through you need to walk a mile in their shoes.  I decided I would kick it up a notch.”

His sister was about to say something when he cut her off.  “And man, you must be tough if crap like that happens to you every day.”

She opened her mouth to say one thing, then changed her mind with a shake of the head.  She instead smiled and wiped away a bit of the caked dirt from her dress.  “Yep, it can be tough.”

The little boy nodded and walked with his sister into the house, his shoulders held high.


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Science! Bah Humbug! ( a 100 word babble)

I am synthesizing information in an attempt to immolate my brain cells, allowing me to warm my frozen thoughts about the subject, yet the thaw has yet to come.  I huddle in obscurity, surrounded by obscenities used, but not forgotten, built up to keep me from seeing my failure from the outside.

Still hope tries to grow inside though it hasn’t seen the light of inspiration or the nourishing rain of success in so long it might as well be on the dark side of the moon.  Should I just collapse this rhetoric into a black hole of consciousness?



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Scream (a 150 word story)

The click of an empty chamber fell upon recently deafened ears.  It was finally over, or at least Margret hoped so.  Then there was the creak of a door opening downstairs.  She dove under her bed.  She had dropped a couple of rounds when loading last time.  She just needed to find them.

The stairs creaked and groaned as the cause of the noise climbed to the second floor.

Margret’s searching hand slapped away a smooth metallic object.  She stifled a curse and pulled herself further under the bed.

The door to the bedroom opened.

Margret felt tears fall from her chin.  She closed her eyes and said a prayer.  Her hand still searching, her fingers found the fallen round.  She slowly opened the chamber and slid it in.  She frantically tried to locate her assailant.

The floor creaked.

Something grabbed her ankles and pulled.

She never got to scream.


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Uplifted (an acrostic poem)

Under all the stress that life was throwing Nancy

Perhaps the hardest was being away from her kids

Larry was across the country, and Jane was so busy with three kids of her own

If that wasn’t enough, she was looking at a pink slip sooner or later

Financial troubles were swamping the accounting firm she worked for

That would be enough to make a lot of people to just give up

Every day though, Nancy was thankful for a chance to do good for those around her

Determined to make the world a better place than it would have been without her


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Silence (a 100 word story)

The Silence snuck up on Deidre, and before she knew it, she was in its clutches.  She tried to speak up, but no one could hear her.  She tried to get anyone’s attention about her problem, but no one noticed.  No one seemed to care why the Silence picked her.

Years later she finally broke through, finding her voice once again.  By then no one wanted to believe what happened to her that had caused Silence to so viciously destroy her ability to communicate what had happened.

The Silence had won again and moved on to find its next victim.


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