Flashes and Short Stories

Flash fiction is often defined by stories containing 750 to 1500 words. Short stories vary in length, but usually start somewhere around 1500 to 2000 words and are progressively longer.


I definitely allow myself ample freedom for character and plot development with both of these fiction categories. They may often be inspired by my own life, or from my current historical, dark fantasy projects, which will be novels in their own right.

I hope you consider becoming a member and enjoying my flash fiction anthology. Please click the button below for more information and follow me on Medium, Wattpad, Instagram, and Pinterest.

Winter's Free Flash or Short Excerpts

Never During the Day


Getting home after sunrise was not my first choice, but there was no way to avoid it. We had run out of provisions, and I needed to secure food of any sort for my family. My daughter had not eaten in a day, my wife in two, and myself in several. We would not survive the week. Therefore, I kissed my family goodbye and set out at dawn, using light as my safety and cover.


I had long ago ransacked every abandoned house for a two-mile radius. My plan was simple. Starting from the last house, I searched and expanded outward in a spiral pattern, inspecting each residence with my familiar method.


Although I had not seen another living soul in three years, I still proceeded with some caution. I walked carefully with my backpack on my shoulders, roller skating pads on my forearms, elbows, and legs, and an umpire mask over my face. My eyes and neck swiveled at most noises. This peculiar type of situational awareness had become my standard. It is how we had survived in the apocalypse this long.


Membership Flashes and Shorts

2 Flash Fiction Stories

4 Short Stories

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photo found on Instagram @ig_scotland

Take the Egg


It was nearly dawn, and the children were running amuck around the candlelit house with their old nursemaid, Eliza, trailing behind, huffing, puffing, and shaking her head. Meanwhile, Heath, the youngest of the three Arneshaw’s, slumbered peacefully upstairs in his crib next to his parents.


Anna turned a corner. Bront, trailing his sister, bumped into her. Eliza reached out and nearly caught a scrap of his collar. He dropped a shoulder, twisted, and ran after his sister, giggling, successfully alluding capture.


“You two will never cease and desist,” said Eliza, catching her breath.


The old nursemaid grabbed her dress and hiked it up over heels, pursuing her two animated wards down a long, shadowed corridor. When she reached an open area, she halted her steps and let her dress fall to her feet. Swiveling her head, she strained her ears.