Very short stories #9

Last weekend, I entered A Quiet Rebellion: Guilt into the Self-Published Fantasy Blog Off. This is an annual competition, and the 300 entry slots fill up quickly, so I felt pretty lucky to have got in.

You can see the list of books in the contest here along with the 10 blogs that are responsible for the shortlisting and judging. Maybe you’ll find some new books and authors to your tastes—my TBR (to be read) list is certainly growing!

My own entry (AQR1) is £/$/€0.99 in the Kindle store, but you can get it for free on Smashwords. Use the discount coupon: DC55Q.

And now for some very short stories.


She smirks, the bitch. Cast as lead in The Cunning Little Vixen.
“Congratulations,” I mutter.
“And you?”
I sigh. “Props.”
“Boooring.” She makes a pretty little moue. “When I’m shot, my death scene will be fantastic!”
“Of course it will.” I’ll ensure the gun is real.

Copyright: Image by StockUnlimited


“Some villain is sabotaging me!”
“How come?”
“First they cut off my TV and phone, then the water. Now the power’s gone. I’m freezing.”
“What’re you doing?”
“Lighting a fire.”
“What with?”
“Junk mail. Lucky it’s piling up.”
“Sabotage, right. That’s an unpaid bill.”

Image by _Alicja_ from Pixabay


“Mr D, you’re a vegan?”
Fangs glinted. “I feed not on dead animals. Or people.”
“Uh, and bathing in your enemies’ blood?”
“A lucky by-product. Besides, some survived.”
At a cut-off scream from below, the reporter flinched.
Mr D’s smile widened. “Never said I was nice.”

Image by James Russell from Pixabay


I used to visit lonely old Gaston. While pushing my food around his plate, he’d chat about his army days. He was oddly vehement I stay out of the kitchen.
After he died, I checked the forbidden room. Above a cornucopia of luxury ingredients hung a Cordon Bleu diploma.

Copyright: Image by StockUnlimited


On reading the will, he glared at the painting. Dull-looking bint with a vapid smile. Some joke.
Or maybe a clue? He yanked it down, tapped the panel behind. Sod all. He attacked the frame with a penknife.
Footsteps neared. “What’re you doing to that poor Old Master?”

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay


“Victory is ours!” The general rode into the ruined city for the first time, his pristine armour bright in the sunshine.
Concealed behind a pile of mutilated bodies, the lone defender nocked his remaining arrow. His final gesture: kill the enemy who hadn’t even fought.

Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay


“Another one?” Ogre boss snarls. “Prisoners can’t just vanish.”
I lick my lips. He’s scary. “Agreed. Who guards the outer door?”
Suspicion lands on my rival, a gentle soul. He protests but is accused of aiding the escape.
At his execution I grin, stifling a burp.

Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay

And finally… it seems my Numoeath flash fiction book is now free 🎉 in all Amazon stores (until this morning, it was still £0.99 in the UK one). So grab yourself a copy!

2 thoughts on “Very short stories #9

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