Category: FlashFiction


No matter where you sit, there’s a light breeze. I don’t think the windows are sealed very well.

The house always smells musty. There’s a kind of damp chill with just a whiff of mold and mildew and decay. I don’t want to complain, but it’s not a great environment for someone my age.

I feel like I’ve been a prisoner in my house for two years, but I’m still not sure I want to leave. I’m still not sure I’ll ever be comfortable outside. In a crowd. Even in a mask.

Fortunately, the store delivers. I miss people though.

Aging Is Not For the Faint of Heart

It came to him in a flash.

“I’m looking for my phone.”

Sean smiled and shook his head at own his absent-mindedness. He continued walking around the kitchen, looking around, behind, and under things, trying to find his cell phone. It never seemed to be handy when he needed it.

Sean noticed his coffee cup on the big island in the kitchen and paused to refill it. He pulled out a stool and sat down in front of a plate of cinnamon buns. He was reaching for one when it came to him again.

“What was I looking for?”


I finally climbed through that little wood trap door in the upstairs hallway yesterday. Found a couple random swords in the attic. Not little froufrou epees. Broad swords.

One was just lying there and the other was stuck deep in the stone chimney. Took a hell of an effort to pull it out. 

Forgetting, for the moment, the obvious question of how did two fucking broad swords get into the attic and the related question of, why were two fucking broad swords in the attic, another much more important question springs to mind.

Am I King of the Britons now?


I don’t get this whole “grow food at home” fad. Farming, I think they’re calling it?

What’s wrong with hunting and gathering? Exercise. Fresh air. That’s the good life. Why risk pissing off the earth gods? Seems to me that you’re just asking for a smiting.

Og and I argue about this stuff all the time. Og’s the guy that tries new things. He’s the trailblazer. Og was the first one to burn food. Now everybody’s cooking.

I guess I’m just a traditional guy. Og seems pretty excited about this new wheel thing. though. It might be worth checking out.

A Memory of Socks

Long ago, in the before time, I was sitting in a meeting on casual Friday when the guy leading the meeting noticed my socks.

Guy: Hey, those are some fancy socks.

Me: Yeah, they were a gift from a friend.

Guy: What do the words say? Looks like there’s some words there.

Me: Oh, nothing. It’s silly.

Guy: What does it say?

Me (putting foot up on conference table): It says “This meeting is bullshit”.

General laughter, then an awkward silence.

Guy: Well, being that as it may, we should probably move on to item 4 on the agenda.