“It’s quaint.” purred Chyna, surveying the retro-styled diner.
“It’s overrated. Who cares how ancients lived 800 years ago on Earth?” said Tronick.
Elvis wrinkled his nose, intending an academic assault. “Who cares?! The 1950s is only the preliminary decade of scientific advances that bridged us into the space age. And, may I add, the reason why you and I can live on Mars today.”
“They’re the reason? You’re seriously going to overlook the black quartz technology of the 2300s?”
“Shut up you two blockheads!” Chyna scolded. “Here comes our chocolate milkshakes. Wonder how it tastes?”
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the frog to submit your flash fiction and read others’.
Who would have thought we’d be living through a pandemic? Never in a million years did I ever imagine I’d experience it. Fast forward to 2020 and here we are. I hope you are all staying safe and if you are in quarantine or self-isolation, make the most of it if you can.
Flux23 dropped to her knees, panting on the rooftop of the skyscraper. In seconds she morphed from a suit-wearing white male into herself. Brown hair and pale skin. A blue scaly patch behind her ear the only tell-tale sign of what she was.
The city lights blurred in front of her. She felt woozy. That little girl caught her unawares, staring at her, then at her father lying in a pool of blood. She threw the gun into an air vent. They’ll catch up to her. She would run anyway. Her life as an assassin for Nation444 was over.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words of less. Thanks to Jill Wisoff for this week’s prompt!
Every week I intend to write comedy, and everything but comedy finds its way onto the post. This week, it is sci-fi. Shapeshifters. Loosely based on the X-men character, Mystique.
Click the blue frog to read more awesome flash fiction from other writers.
Blood trickled down her shin where it hooked on the barbed wire fence she climbed over. Olivia ignored it.
Gently she lowered her backpack on the ground, unzipped it, slowly lifting out the gadget sought after by every military unit of the world. A tangle of cog wheels it wasn’t sophisticated, though it was more powerful than any weapon ever created. Olivia regretted the task ahead, but not as much as she regretted inventing it.
She had been naive. Weapons don’t end wars. The human lust for power was insatiable. She had to destroy it. Before it destroyed humanity.
Written for Friday Fictioneers where the challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less. Hosted by Rochelle.