Category Archives: #5MinuteFiction

Tuesdays at 1:30 pm Eastern for five minutes

#5MinuteFiction – Week 71

The Neighbour

She knew her neighbour was Greek, she had been told that was why she had all the statues.  It was one thing to have a bird bath or perhaps a small sculpture in your garden, but it was another thing to have a small army throughout your yard.  She would have complained to the community association but they all seemed to be afraid of her. Maybe it was the stone statues she had guarding her door.  Although not carbon copies of each other, each had a menacing body guard or cop look.

Most of the people in this neighbourhood had at least a touch of class, not a pink flamingo or garden gnome to be seen, considering it was southFloridathat was pretty impressive.

She looked out of her window and spotted a new statue, one that kind of looked like the postman.  She had had enough, it was time to have a little face-to-face with this gaudy woman.

Cybil marched past the new figurine, she barely noticed the parcel he was holding was marked:


She rang the doorbell several times and waited.  “Go away, I am not to be seen!”  A voice said from inside.

Cybil was not going to be turned away.  “Come and face me, I need to talk to you about the state of your yard!”

A series of clicks and the door opened.

“So the last person that lived here, what happened to them?”  He asked the realitor.

“The neighbours said they were tired of all of the lawn ornaments.”  She said.

“Well I find them quite charming.”  The wife of the prospective buyer replied.  “Especially this one.”  A middle aged stone figure stared at her.  “I just wish she’d be turned away a little.”

#5MinuteFiction – Week 69

Smart Cookies

“In my considerable experience, drug dealers are more likely to die a violent death than get hit by a bus.” I said.
The rookie stared at me dumbly. “But he didn’t get hit by a bus, he got hit by that sheet of glass from the construction site.”
I didn’t want to have to explain what a ‘figure of speech’ was to this snot nosed, fresh out of the academy, maggot. I shook my head and continued with my search of the scene.
Lee Petersen was a well known dealer, not the street level kind either, no, he was the dealers dealer, he was one of the big three, a group that brought drugs in from South America and the Middle East and distributed them all through Wichita. This was Karma. I had been tracking him and his cohorts, Trace Hansen and Steve McCoy for years. I would have loved to have been able to bring Lee in alive, but this splattered and flattened specimen would do.
“What do you think happened Rookie?” I asked my new partner.
He looked at me dumbly again. “Sir, a piece of glass fell from up there and hit him, I believe it was an accident.”
“You’re a smart cookie son, just remember, smart cookies don’t get eaten.” He stared blankly at me. I bent down and inspected the glass. A palm print. Odd, maybe he didn’t get ‘hit by a bus’ after all.

#5MinuteFiction – Week 68

If you Can’t Go Around It…
Finally, the digging was over. Hank shut down the engine of the drill and marveled at his work. It had taken him a lifetime to make the tunnel from Sarasota, Flordia to Jinx-Chieng, China. Along the way he had discovered deeply buried civilizations, archaeological and paleontology finds never before seen. He found rock formations that nearly destroyed his bit and molten rock that nearly destroyed him.
He no longer knew what sunlight, fresh water or sex was like. He had known nothing but the shroud of carbon-fiber and the sound of chomping diamond tips, now, all he needed was a hot bath, a friendly face and a cup of coffee.
As he closed the door to his rig he realized something, sitting on the front seat were two items of great importance, the keys to the door and his English/Chinese dictionary.

#5MinuteFiction – Week 67

Real Fiction

I always thought that if I were going to write a novel, this is how it would start, a down and out detective, a sexy blonde in trouble and a fist full of cliches. This was noir. This wasn’t a novel though, this was real, you see a down and out writer needs a day job and there are always cheating husbands and jealouse jealous wives (or vise versa) and there was always a scumbag needing a few bucks willing to find said cheating husbands or wives doing the deeds and take lurid photos of them. That’s me, well, it’s not who I am, just what I do. It’s a means to an end. Now it appeared as if my day job and my night job were coming crashing together. This blonde, buxom, and dripping with sex appeared at my door, if she was any closer to a character from one of my stories she would be wrapped in words and adorned with letters. It was time for a drink.

#5MinuteFiction – Week 65

The Sister

When the ten gods of the Kingdom of Rezzia went to war with the mystics of the lands of Pawelon, neither side could gain any advantage until the sun and moon melted bringing the world into brief darkness.

No one knew of this except two sisters, Ravitha and Ryline, twins. Each had been swept away in different directions during the war and grew as one would expect of a demi-god within their own worlds.

Ravitha was filled with the wisdoms of light and peice where as Ryline learned of the darkness of power and the control of many. Neither shared their secrets but instead waited until the dusk of the eclipse to plan their moves.

The sparks of swords and fires from the castles were taking over the role of the sun when the two raven haired witch gods stepped from the shadows.

“Sister,” Rayitha said.
“Sister,” the other nodded back. “It is time.”

They had never spoken aloud before but each knew the other through shared thoughts and visions. The took each others hand and stared skyward. The last focused glint of sunlight blinked from behind the moon and the field of battle went dark, there was no sound. A fog engulfed the battlers, the fires went out and peace came. When the sun returned the scene was not what it was before. The fields, once filled with blood now bore wheat and grains, farmers pushed heavily on plows and prodded oxen and mules to help them with their loads. Children danced on the roads and ran through the crops.

“Thank you sister,” Ryline said, then smiled but a glint in her eye set Rayitha in a state of unease. Suddenly, their link was lost. Rayitha watched her sister stroll away, black cape billowing in the breeze. She must know the truth.

#5MinuteFiction – Week 64

In The Name Of Thy Father

“It was the look in your father’s eyes that finally convinced me.” My mother said.
“Convinced you of what?” I asked.
“Convinced me to end his life.” Mother wept, I merely stood staring in disbelief. “Please don’t judge me.
I had to judge her, I had no choice. What she had done was wrong, illegal, it was murder and I am a cop after all. “Jesus Christ mother, why are you telling me this? Are you hoping that I’ll help you in some way, there’s nothing I can do except what I have to do.”
She looked up at me with tear filled eyes pleading, “no, you couldn’t, you can’t! For your father’s sake.”
“My father is dead and you murdered…” I drew out the word, letting her ingest the full meaning of the word, “…him. For my father’s sake I’m bringing you in.”
“But he was dying, he was in pain, can’t you see I did this for him, for you, for all of us.”
“No mother, you did it for yourself. Years you spent complaining about having to look after him, trapped in this house looking after his bedpan, caring for bedsores giving him his medication but your forgot. You forgot that he was still a person, a man, MY FATHER! No, all you thought about was getting out from this prison, the prison that his illness put you in well guess what mother, you’ll be in a whole new prison now.” I felt nothing but icy steel as I reached behind me for the cuffs.
“I beg of you son, please don’t. You’ve lost your father, don’t take away your mother too.” I didn’t respond. She had stopped being my mother the day she murdered my father. She reached for a hug, some last morsel of love, instead of accepting it I took her wrists and shackled her.
I tuned out her sobs as I escorted her to the car, reading her her rights as she shuffled grimmly from one prison to another.

#5MinuteFiction – Week 63

Your Ass Smells Like Ass

“You point it at a group of people and it’ll obliterate everything in its path.” She said disgusted.
“Oh baby, it ain’t that bad, just a bit of gas.” He lifted one cheek off of the perfectly contoured couch cushion and let another one go.
“Beau, you’re fucking disgusting, Jesus Christ, why did I marry you?” Her eyes were watering now. She stood up and opened a window hoping that the smell of the pulp mill across the street would cover the smell of her husbands rotting ass.
“Because you luuuuve me.” He took a big gulp of his beer and let out a belch followed up by another sphincter ripping fart. “And I knocked you up.”
“God, I can’t believe I actually had sex with you.” She shivered.
“And you do it every night too.” He smirked and motioned for her to come over. She smiled back. He was disgusting but he did know how to fill a void. She sat on his lap and let him fondle her saggy tits.
In the heat of the moment another gas attack hit. “Aw for fuck sakes Beau.” She waved her hand, hoping to swat the almost think stech away. “She got off him and pulled out a cigarette. If she was going to fuck him she had to have something close to her nose to alleviate the smell.
She stuck the dart in her mouth and pulled out the lighter. Another ripper, she couldn’t get it lit quick enough, and then…
They couldn’t find the gas leak, actually, they couldn’t even find a gas source. The fire department determined that somehow a cloud of methane gas had settled into the area around the trailer but had all burnt up in the explosion along with Tracy and Beaufort Prast.

#5MinuteFiction – Week 60


Perhaps my reaction was a little less than it should have been, after all it was a full onslaught of supposed state-of-the-art nuclear warheads that hit my exposed belly. “Ouch,” was what I said. I said it calmly and without much feeling. I did sting, admittedly but what did they expect? I’m an asteroid roughly twice the size of their moon. I can’t help the fact that I got pulled into a trajectory that put me in line with their planet. If I could help it I would.

The unfortunate thing about no longer being an inanimate object is that I have feelings. I don’t know when this occurred exactly. I think it was after I blasted through Gabingga Tsuyala. I only guess that because that is the first impact which I remember the name of. Something happened after that. I could feel the psychic energy off of some planets, I could read the future and see the destruction I would cause. It brought me great pain. I have been struggling with my emotions since I witnessed the gas creatures of Jinga-Jinga float and implode as their atmosphere exploded with my impact. I bounced off, changing trajectory again. I felt no pain, that time.

The next time I knew that I was on a path to destroy living feeling entities. I hoped that I would miss the tiny planet, or if I didn’t that it would somehow stop me from travelling further, but it did not. My feelings intensified, as if the thoughts and feelings of those that I destroyed clung to me, hoping to live on.

My new found self awareness did not translate into being able to move. I focused all of my energy on altering my coarse, but to no avail. I wished to die now, I have no reason to live. The beings on this blue planet are the first that have attempted to protect themselves, they have known I was coming before I was even aware of them. I knew what would happen, I would glance a soft blow, pushing their planet but a slip further from their sun, but enough that they would suffer in cold and starvation for centuries.

As another flurry of explosions crackled upon my chest I prayed that at least one would end my suffering so I would not feel theirs.

#5MinuteFiction – Week 59

Video Games Kill

What the hell was that? I wondered, then turned back around. It was just a flash of light in my periphery. It was an unneeded distraction with timing that could not have been worse. The image on the screen went blindingly bright, then to black. Had this been an Atari game from the previous century it likely would have said “GAME OVER” followed by some sort of wonky digital ‘loser’ jingle.

I had been playing ‘Real War’ for almost 72 hours straight. I needed a break. I peeled myself off of the leather chesterfield, scratched my ass where the sticky seat left a mild burn and went to the fridge. It had been too hot to do anything but sit around in my underwear, drink sweet tea and play video games.

I opened the fridge door and once again something caught in my periphery. “What the hell was that?” This time I asked myself out loud. I had to rub my eyes. For a moment I thought that the television screen had gotten cracked and it was covered with dust and streaks, then I realized that it wasn’t the television I was looking at, it was the window. I recognized the planes that were flying low and the machinery driving by. I had been fighting them all day and all night. It was the Babylonians, but they didn’t exist, how could they exist?

I gave my head another shake. A hundred yards from the house lay the wreckage of an H-27 Mid Range Aerial Destroyer, Forest Green with an angry Ogre Face emblazoned on the front. That was my plane, I made that plane. It sat smoldering, nose first in the Arizona sand. I turned to the television and saw the same scene, only from a different angle.

Final words etched themselves across the screen

The final stand of Earth was lost. As the remaining population attempted to surrender to the other worldly Babylonians they quickly realized that there was no surrender, only death. Earth was quickly wiped of it’s inhabitants and destroyed for it’s precious metals, leaving the Babylonians to move on to their next target.
He didn’t have time to wonder What the hell it was that came through his house.

#5MinuteFiction – Week 58

“You sure you want to do that, chief?”
Lazy Horse stood on the edge of the cliff. “Why do you call me chief, Flightless Bird?”
Flightless Bird hesitate before addressing him. “Because we are a tribe and you are our leader.”
“Is a tribe not more than two?” Lazy Horse replied, Flightless Bird shrugged in response. “But you are right and if I do this we shall be more.”
He lifted the flaps of hide behind him and leaned into the wind.
“What if you fail Chief?” Flightless Bird asked.
“Then you shall be Chief, Flightless Bird and you will find someone who will guide you to greatness as you have guided me.” Lazy Horse looked to the valley below, then to the far reaches of the prairie beyond. He closed his eyes and lept, gliding heroically and gracelessly screaming to the unforgiving ground below. A puff of dust arose from where the former Chief learned that he could not fly.
Flightless Bird shrugged and turned away. He knew there was camp within a two nights hike. There was always a lonely brave that he could cull.