The Word Worker

Tag: Flash fiction

  • The Key

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    wordworkerrussell
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    “Do you see that?” Shana’s forehead creased, and she side-eyed Jesse as he stepped beside her. “See what?” He glanced around, eyebrows raised. His gaze slid easily over the stump in question, and she knew he couldn’t possibly see what she was seeing, but she persisted anyway. “That stump over there,” she pressed, pointing with…

  • Under the Oaks

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    wordworkerrussell
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    He stared down the well groomed brick walk, his worn pack slipping from his shoulder to land with a metallic rattle. His torn, mud-stained uniform was a sore thumb against the impossibly manicured lawn and the milling people nearer the big house. A woman in skintight pants, of all outlandish costumes, skirted around him with…

  • Window

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    wordworkerrussell
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    It was unique among the dwarf cities, his window. None of the nether people could understand why he had insisted upon its installation when he inherited the throne of Dor. It had cost him more deepsilver than the coffers could well support, and if Olor ever let leak his methods of obtaining the required amount…

  • The Tomb

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    wordworkerrussell
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    “What a depressing place! Why on earth did you bring me here, Jack?” “Oh, I dunno, I think it’s pretty cheerful with the sun shining through the trees and all.” “Whatever, weirdo! Seriously, what’s with the creepy mausoleums?” “Come here, I wanted to show you something. Look at the door on that one.” “What about…

  • The Relic

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    wordworkerrussell
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    No one would ever have known it was there, in that tiny retreat from the bustle and concrete tucked in a cluster of apartments. No one remembered that before the garden, before the apartments, before the city, it was there. The city rose around it from apocalyptic waste, slowly but determinedly reclaiming the destruction. Once…

  • The Corner

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    It wasn’t beautiful, the corner of Cedar and Walnut. In fact, whatever planner decided to name the streets after trees must of have had some twisted sense of humor. No forest could have less to do with the dirty, dingy gray of metal and concrete. Despite uninviting appearances, the bench at the corner was always…

  • Stories With Kids

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    wordworkerrussell
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    (I’d like to thank my kids for their contributions to this week’s prompted flash fiction. Sometimes the real life conversations are far funnier than any story I can come up with.” “Hey, kids, y’all wanna give me story ideas? They have to connect to this lighthouse picture.” “Me, me, me! Let me see the picture!…

  • The Farm

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    It had been there for 200 hundred years, looking exactly the same. Just another farm, with a neat farmhouse and barn. Everyone joked about cows in the house and family in the barn, because of the chimneys, but no one had ever thought much more about it. Which I guess was strange in itself, now…

  • Christmas Train

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    The whistle blew, a cheery sound in the crisp air. Even the steam from the pipe crystallized into gray mist that blended with the distant mountain peaks. The world around lay white and silent, the train with its crimson cars and bright window frames a brilliant spot of color. Inside the warm cars passengers laughed…

  • The Gates

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    Sasha loved the Gates. They were older than memory or record, if the old ones could be believed, though they showed no sign of age. Unlike the longhouse built around them, the burnished wood of which had grayed and rotted several times even in her short lifespan. She ran a hand over the stone, soaking…