• Flash Fiction,  Horror

    Waste

    “Nobody’s seen The Smiths for weeks,” Jon told Rich on their walk home from school. “My mom said they moved, but at night I can see blue flickering, like a TV is on in there. Nobody moves and doesn’t take their TV.” “True.” Rich feigned interest. They’d been friends since Kindergarten. Jon had always been into conspiracy theories.  “So I think we should go over there. I think something happened to them. What if they got abducted or died?” “Jon, I’m not breaking into your neighbor’s house with you and getting arrested,” Rich told his friend. “Okay so the legalities of it are a bit of a grey area, but…

  • Flash Fiction,  Horror

    It’s Just Water

    The bombs fell in September. We saw the mushroom clouds blooming on the horizon and ran for the bunker. The air-raid siren wailed like a frightened child, cutting through what had been a serene summer day and pricking our skin with fear.  We weren’t prepared—at least not as well as we should have been. Months passed. The view through the small frosted port hole in the ceiling grew darker and colder. Whether that was from Canadian or nuclear winter, neither of us could say for sure. We watched our scant supplies dwindle as we waited for any news of the situation outside and we took turns cranking the emergency radio,…

  • Flash Fiction,  Horror

    The Ravine

    “I can’t” Laura said. “Yes. You can” Jay replied, “Feel this?” he tugged on her harness “and this?” he knocked on her helmet. “Yes, but-” “But nothing. These keep you safe. I’ll be your eyes.” He touched the side of her face. The scar tissue had softened considerably since the accident. “Don’t worry. We’ll take it slow”. “You don’t usually hear about blind rock climbers.” Laura smiled, “Thanks for bringing me”.  “No sweat. Well, there will be some sweat. It’s 30 degrees Celsius, but you catch my drift.”  Laura laughed. She’d rappelled down this ravine dozens of times, but this was the first time back since losing her sight. Part…

  • Flash Fiction,  Horror

    Le Restaurant de l’Homme

    James straightened his tie as the limousine stopped out front of the restaurant. Mr. Frank Kravenport, the CEO of Kravenport Industries, surprised them with reservations to some French place where it was impossible to get a table. It was to be a memorial dinner for their colleague Doug Longman. Cancer. “We’re here boys!” Frank’s voice roared, “Ahh, ain’t we in for a treat?” James and three others waited while Frank hefted his weight from the limo before following him onto the deep red carpet that led to the front door. An elaborate awning in matching red bore the name “Le Restaurant de l’Homme” in gold script. James hadn’t taken French…