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Traitors

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Welcome to the castle, pour a coffee, take a seat, Everyone’s suspicious, and most have got cold feet Traitor’s in the turret, hooded drama all the way Murder comes at midnight, so it’s a normal day   There’s a shield, and there’s a dagger, there’s a whisper in the hall Someone swore on grannies life, they’re a Faithful after all “I’m 100%, faithful” they say with nervous laugh, Which is exactly how we know, they’re planning traitorous stuff   Ok now let the game begin, I’ll go with her, you go with him Who’s a Traitor? Who’s a friend? We’ll decide and then pretend Were we right then from the start, has paranoia played its part? Pass the blame, and act dismayed, swear you knew, but were betrayed   Round table starts the evening, so cue dramatic pause Then someone clears their throat, like they’re defending a great cause “I don’t have any proof,” they say, “but I’ll say it anyway” “I just a got that feeling when you breathed in that stra...

The End

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The End 'Apocalypse Now?' 'His favourite film.' 'Really? But it's so damn long.' A strangled laugh escapes from his lips. 'Fasten your seatbelt,' he says. 'OK.’ He looks at her. 'Oh shit.' It's all he can think of to say. 'He was pissed up. As usual.' He stares down at his hands, then runs them grasping through his hair. He thinks of her hands, how they move over his yielding flesh. Then, earlier – before he got here. Jesus. He covers his open mouth with his hand and mutters through it. 'I never meant it to be taken seriously. I never thought…not for one moment, y’know?' 'Right.' 'I couldn't. She…' 'Yes?' 'You don’t understand.' 'Oh, I do. Perfectly.' He grips the steering wheel with both hands until his knuckles turn white. In silence he watches a petite tortoiseshell cat trot across the road, mouse in its jaws. It leaps onto a wall ...

Eloise Earle Sat Next To Me

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Eloise Earle Sat Next To Me By Thomas M. McDade (594-Words) The first theme Eloise Earle’s read was about a rodeo bull rider. She squeezed in Faulkner’s use of the doppelganger. There were twins in Faulkner’s fire story. She had the gall to name the rider after a character in the tale. After she finished reciting, she announced Brahma riding life was for her. I wondered if Miss Horan made a written comment about rodeo animal abuse under the mark. I thought the always-present peace symbol pin suggested she had many axes to grind and it seemed out of sync with the big rock on her finger. Eloise oozed confidence. I imagined bruises from spills that I wouldn’t have minded soothing with healing lotions. My hazel eyes met her pale blues at her first unexpected “hello.” Her complexion was flawless. I thought she was too dainty to be bucking around on the backs of bulls. Her neck-length hair was auburn. Musk perfume trailed her. There was a genuine cowboy in the class named Craig who ...

Tips on Writing

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Available on Amazon https://www.amazon.com/FLASH-FICTION-WRITING-TIPS-MASTERFUL/dp/1999408217/ref

Two stories by Sagata Bhattacharjee

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1. The Eternal Whiner (100 words, published in Wilson's Tales, 2024) The Eternal Whiner “An eternal whiner, ever hear him talking good of anybody? When he kicks the bucket, there'll be no place for him even in Hell.” I blurted out to my sister. “He taught us that our eldest bro would spend 1% of his income on us. What about him? Did he ever contribute more than 300 rupees to the family funds? How much was his monthly income as an SBI Officer?” I blabbered on, furious. ############################## Looking at the peaceful face of my brother on the pyre, I realise now that the one speaking eternally ill of the world was not my brother! The end 2. The Cold-Blooded Murder! (100 words, published in Ink in Thirds, 2025) The same whitewashed, empty space! I didn't know what Fate had willed for us that Saturday afternoon!  Can the pungent smell of the room remove the painful memory? Aman’s excited like a kid as we drove up to here. He’s sitting on the sill with nothing bu...

#worthingflash

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Thank you to all those who have written flash fiction for #worthingflash this year. I welcome any story which meets the only rule (maximum 1000 words). Any writer can also advertise their books, webpage or works which have been published elsewhere. There is no fee * hurrah * but alas no payment either! All the best Derek McMillan

The Griffin of the Bridge

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The Griffin of the bridge likes The Heights, from where she can see her prey from a distance. She knows the way they will travel; there is only one track across the river. Just below The Heights. Just one way for her two-legged prey to get food into their den. Their den of wood and stones. She watches her prey a lot, and still, she can’t really understand them. She has learnt to watch, really closely, for the stragglers. A mistake might be fatal, as it had been for her mate. But no success in the hunt means no food for the hatchlings. There are only three of them left now. At first, when she and her mate had built their nest on The Heights hunting was easy. The prey would scatter and scream as the two of them struck from the skies together. Didn’t the prey know they could never hide while making that noise? And by splitting they were easier to take one by one. But hunting is getting much harder now. And the hatchlings are getting much hungrier. And this doesn’t feel lik...