Hii!! I don't post enough of my story writing so have three in one post! I did these for a flash fiction project for my English professor, So I'll have them sorted by type (nano/micro/flash) and title. Be nice, I don't write as often as I used to, probably fell off a bit.
TW: Graphic, Horror, Suicide Mentions, Mild swearing, One F bomb, I wrote these in a college Dunkin's so quality is probably shit, mildly gross thing mentioned in last story lol, everyone dies, death, torture, branding mention, literally just skip if you get queasy easily LOL
Nano Fiction: A Stupid Joke
“You’re so stupid.” Maria said, eyes narrowed at the still body at her feet, her voice cold despite the hitch at the end. “It was a joke, idiot. A dumb, stupid joke.”
She stared at her former childhood friend, the one she spent years humiliating, tormenting.
“You weren’t supposed to actually kill yourself.” Her voice broke, hot tears dripping into the slowly spreading pool of red, metallic copper and salt mixing together to permanent the air with their dual scent.
Micro Fiction: Tinder Date
It’s dark outside when I leave the house. The sun went down about 3 hours ago, but my plans were scheduled for 8pm. A date with some guy, not that I knew him well. But we matched on tinder and he seemed nice enough in our texts to each other. He wanted to meet at this old retro movie theater, then dinner at some old diner afterwards in some old sleepy town.
My family constantly told me to vet him, to be truly sure he was safe, that you could never be fully safe, but all of my past tinder dates were obnoxious at best, unbearable at worst, but I had a good feeling about this guy. A great one in fact.
Of course, as he stands over my body, hands around my neck, and oxygen fails to enter my lungs, which hit my broken ribs at every inhale from when he broke it, the iron rod he used to hot brand his alias into my thigh, I realized I should have listened to my family.
Flash Fiction: Night Shift
“For the record, Danny. I blame you.” Ollie stared at the large, hulking beast in front of them, its eyes sunken in and dark, empty voids of black ink. Which would be a metaphor if not for the actual ink dripping out the monster’s sockets like a human’s tears. Its long scrawny body was like a human’s, but not. It stood on all fours like a beast, its limbs long and gangly, fingers twisted and pointed in odd angles like each individual finger was snapped, its spine jutting out from filthy, dark, grey skin, a disgusting, sickly hue. Its feet were at least double the size of what those ankles called for.
The whole thing looked like a skin tight suit on a skeleton, the head wobbling like it had no true support, the bullet hole right in the middle of the forehead still smoking.
By all intents and purposes this thing should not exist. Shouldn’t even be close to existing. But here it was. Doing just that. Existing. In the stockroom of the convenience store. Simply because the clock had hit 12am. And that’s when things got weird at Zippy’s. But to understand that, you had to be there.
Danny and Ollie, Or Daniel and Oliver, had been called in for the night shift after Sophie, one of the usual Zippy’s night shift employees, quit shortly after her shift partner, Zach, went missing mid-shift at around 4 in the morning on a Sunday early morning.
So there the two boys were, covering the shift after everyone else refused. Of course, rumors had been going around that the convenience store was haunted, ghosts, monsters, entities beyond your wildest imagination, living among the shadows and made real when the first stroke of new day hit, all the way until 5:59am, always only for the night shift’s eyes. No one went in after 11pm anyways. No one with a working brain and natural survival instincts anyways.
“Hey, Danny!” Oliver’s voice rang out of the store at 11:59pm. “Have you seen the mop? There’s a juice spill in aisle five. I already have the bucket but the mop isn’t with it,” he said, voice trailing off, his blue eyes narrowed at the offending mopless bucket.
“That’s weird. Where’s the mop?” Danny’s head poked around the corner, curly blond locks falling into his eyes, snickering as Oliver shot him a glare. “I don’t know, Daniel. That’s why I’m asking.” he glowered, voice an annoyed grumble at the absolute idiocy that radiated from his coworker. Danny only shrugged, disappearing again.
“Ah, maybe the monsters took it!” he laughed, as Ollie scoffed at the idea.
“You know that’s just baseless rumors and idiotic myths. Probably started by the first set of night shift workers at this dumb store. Didn’t want anyone coming in after a reasonable hour.” Oliver stated matter-of-factly, adjusting his glasses as he looked around for the misplaced mop.
Danny only quirked an eyebrow. “Both of which went missing mid-shift?” he inquired, as Oliver let out an irritated snort.
“Had to sell it somehow, right?”
“Harsh, dude. Have some respect.”
Oliver and Danny both blinked at it, bewildered by its sudden appearance.
“They’re fine, Danny. Stop being so damn dramatic all the time.” Oliver retorted, shaking his head with a peeved sigh. “Anyways, that damn mop. Help me find it.” he grumbled, before said mop clattered to his feet suddenly.
“Dude… I thought those glasses were supposed to help you see.”
“Sh-Shut up!” Oliver felt his cheeks flush an angry, embarrassed red. “I swear that wasn’t there just now!” He fumed, picking it up before pulling his hand away. “Ew! It’s fucking slimy!” he yelped, as Danny rushed over, grabbing the handle. “Holy crap you’re right!” He exclaimed, eyes widening as he pulled his hand back, wiping whatever substance that was on the mop and now on his hands onto his pants, a mix of curiosity and disgust glinting in brown eyes.
“Oh! Maybe it is the monsters! Let’s go hunting!” he cheered, as Oliver grunted. “Whatever. I’m gonna get some wipes to get whatever that is off my damn mop.” he grumbled, before he felt Danny’s hand wrap around his wrist, yanking him towards the storage room.
Both boys froze, staring at it in silence.
“Danny! Let me go, dammit!” he yelled, as Danny laughed. “Nu-Uh, dude! We can get your mops and find a monster!” he giggled, far too giddy to be talking about just monsters.
The door swung shut behind them, and as they approached the back, they heard a bone-chilling exhale of air, the room unusually cold. And there it was. That thing. Standing before them.
Ollie broke it first. “Very funny, Danny. Who is that? Sophie? Zach?”
Oliver followed his gaze, staring at the scrawny black haired figure slumped against the wall, already in the beginning stages of rot. A body that wasn’t there when they clocked in at 10.
Danny however, didn’t answer, his face a pale green sheen, like he was going to throw up.
“No… But- I think… That’s Zach.”
“Oh.”
Oliver dragged his gaze back to the ghoulish creature in front of them.
“For the record, Danny. I blame you.”
The next morning, two missing persons posters went up. Daniel Gonzalez and Oliver Woods. Last seen working the night shift.
I like when news articles on how the world is ending and we're all gonna die and read to save yourself from total annihilation are behind a paywall within .2 seconds of clicking link but I can read about why humans don't have mating seasons for free. Because it's so much more important that it shouldn't be behind a paywall for me to know why I don't have the intense urge to fuck in specifically spring than how to save myself from total destruction
My personal favorite way to start a story is a chart. Another doc you have open where you write everything. Protag, antag, main side characters. The settings you intend to use, and the major plot points. You feel you've accomplished something by writing, and it's a comprehensible guide for you to stay on track with. I personally love color coding it to make it a little easier to find things for later reference, idk who else does it but I always use and update them as I write so that I can keep track and use it to start and finish stories
misogynists love to mock women who have standards by saying “no man will want you, you’re going to end up old and alone with your cats” but most crazy cat ladies had a husband at some point. men just live shorter lives than women, that’s why there are a disproportionate amount of single women 70+. a woman can have a loving husband and still end up alone in the end because we die like hamsters. lol.
They are called sundown towns and there are a LOT of them in the US.
https://sundown.tougaloo.edu/sundowntowns.php
This website has a clickable map where you can see suspected and confirmed sundown towns by state, as well as information about whether these attitudes are historical or current.
The homepage of Dr. James W. Loewen, author of Lies My Teacher Told Me, Lies Across America, and Sundown Towns.
My obligatory addition to this every time it crosses my dash, because I know the link is definitely missing ones in my own (northern) state and there are some in this thread not on the above link either - thread by LeVar Burton with a LOT of replies from people naming the sundown towns near them:
I calculated not doing my Chem homework will only bring my grade down 0.83% but I also have an exam on Wednesday on this subject along with 2 others but it's 9:56pm rn and I'm not about that life h e l p
I remember in Mass I went out to eat for dinner and as we were there a large group of Australians soilders walked in and it's super funny because they were reinactors and we only learned this because in some other restaurant near by a group of guys ALSO went out to eat from this group of reincarnating production but the way they did it was that each group went out SEPARATELY so a bunch of reinactors went to a German/Irish pub in FULL WW2 German soilder uniforms and Oh my Goddess, why would you do that??
