Worthing Flash

Publishers are averse to the use of Artificial Intelligence. The piece of Artificial Stupidity which I find most annoying is Grammarly. It started out as a way of correcting grammar. It then decided it would write my stories better than I could. Anything I could do, Grammarly could do better. Take any piece of poetry or prose and subject it to the Grammarly treatment and you will see what I mean. All of the major speeches in Shakespeare are all wrong and Grammarly could improve on them. It could do the same to Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. Or you could just delete the pompous smug app and have done with it. To contribute to #worthingflash, send your masterpiece to worthingflash@gmail.com and it will be considered for publication.

I am a serial romantic junkie who savors independence. Not a winning combination, I know. Two incompatible yearnings which have collided numerous times throughout the decades of my life. Did each of those six men get down on one knee to propose marriage to me? I think so but honestly some of it is a blur. I wish I could smell, taste, feel and listen to those proposals all over again. Occasionally, I test myself, check on whether I can list them all from marriage number one when I was nineteen years old through number six when I was – oh, never mind about that. But to my surprise, each time, I manage to get the husband sequence exactly right, a good sign that I am staving off dementia at the age of – oh, never mind. The thing is when people hear that there are six husbands behind you, unfortunately, you can rarely count on remaining credible. So, I rarely mention it. Good thing I have a couple of post-graduate degrees under my belt, including study at Oxford University and Columbia G...

Lavina Blossom lavinadblossom@gmail.com               He allowed himself to be strapped into the back seat. His torso was now firmly attached, which was what they wanted, to hold him down. He gave in to it. They said, relax. He tried, although the belt was tighter than necessary. And why just the torso. What of his limbs, what if he was jostled around so sharply his brain impacted his skull. That could happen to babies shaken too hard and it could happen to old men. And his neck, what about that? He had a long thin neck, few muscles to protect the upper vertebrae. He would have liked to protest now, but it was too late. They were in motion. He supposed that he would soon find out if this was enough protection, given the rapidly accelerating thrust of the car, his son-in-law pretending he was in a race. He must believe this belt was enough, even though he had doubts, which were rising in proportion to the speed they were g...

Magic Else It started out with card tricks. "Pick a card, any card." Else could tell you which card you had in your hand. She could tell you if she was wearing a blindfold. "How did you do that, Else?" "It's a kind of magic," she would say. She also dabbled in herbs but this was mainly for cooking. Our vicar's name was Green and he was sick to death of jokes about Cluedo. Then one Friday morning Else, who was his cleaner, found his body in the library. There was no sign of injury apparent on the body of Rev Green and Else was not aware of any health problems. He was young (well, fifty) and he regularly exercised. Before calling the police, Else reached out with her feelings to people in the village and used the force, or something, to produce a list of suspects. The first was the landlord's son, Tommy. Tommy was always asking Else for something or another. She had an inkling about what he was after. Tommy suspected the u...

He brings out his new unicycle. The seat, from all the saddle soap, has to be held firmly; he wonders if, when he mounts it, he might slip off. He would rather slip then than in the middle of a ride. He has polished the chrome rim twice, even gleamed the spokes. The pedals have been methodically lubricated. All the metals of the frame have been glistened and the height adjustment trued against his old unicycle, the one now for sale in the front yard, original purchase date and mileage scrawled on a sign beside. Best offer, but it had better be a good, flattering offer. Plenty of miles left in that unicycle, though plenty have already been run. This first outing will be a test. Just a short cycle. Something to prove the balance, see if the new seat has ridge-and-play similar to the old unicycle. A pedal to the corner store, perhaps. Or over to Mina’s house to show off the new conveyance. Backwards, forwards, pinpoint turns, letter-making in loose gravel. A trial run bef...