tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post3235098267851184858..comments2024-03-18T09:09:59.625-04:00Comments on Janet Reid, Literary Agent: Our Inner Criminal flash fiction writing contest!Janet Reidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615380335938685231noreply@blogger.comBlogger81125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-55400321762978504392016-03-06T09:57:07.383-05:002016-03-06T09:57:07.383-05:00Three times the ocean crashed over me
Three times ...Three times the ocean crashed over me<br />Three times I filched myself back<br />From her thunderous embrace<br /><br /><br />Three times the ocean crashed over me<br />And three times I pinched my breath back <br />From the heart of her lathering waves<br /><br /><br />Three times the ocean crashed over me<br />And three times I nicked my body back <br />From grasping tips of plump coral mouths <br /><br /><br />Three times the ocean crashed over me<br />And three times I robbed the hungry, lifting swell <br />Of her final swallow<br /><br />Three times the ocean crashed over me<br />Three times<br />I could not steal a fourth<br />Cipherhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16810774836899333560noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-16546585612720320702016-03-06T09:16:05.609-05:002016-03-06T09:16:05.609-05:00In a pinch, use Brit speak.
A small Audubon water...In a pinch, use Brit speak.<br /><br />A small Audubon watercolor of blue-throated hummingbirds.<br /><br />I planned the robbery with meticulous care, returning once a year to the small seaside hotel.<br /><br />"Yes, the blue room, to the left of the lift."<br /><br />I searched for a comparable print and filched a chipped wooden frame from a jumble sale.<br /><br />I nicked the painting on my last visit, swapping it for my paltry substitute.<br /><br />It matched the faded rectangle of wallpaper. The old dearie wouldn't notice.<br /><br />Now I must find another.<br /><br />"I'd like a change, perhaps the green room on the opposite side."Margaret S. Hamiltonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07979191318652199350noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-40658065198849444922016-03-06T08:27:55.513-05:002016-03-06T08:27:55.513-05:00“It filched her dangly,” the boss said. “We explai...“It filched her dangly,” the boss said. “We explained the no gold policy, yes?”<br /><br />‘It was an old pinchbeck bracelet,” the new girl said. <br /><br />“Wasn’t that,” Roberts said. “We are not permitted to hire virgins.”<br /><br />“I am not.”<br /><br />“You are,” Roberts said. “Woke it up, lifted its spirits. Took flight and shite all over Inverness.”<br /><br />“Anyone see it?”<br /><br />“A dragon bigger than a 747? Possibly,” Roberts said.<br /><br />“Don’t get your knickers in a wad. How do we spin this?” <br /><br />“Whiskey and a lie,” Roberts said. “Lure it back to lair with Ms. Virgin. It’ll frolic, and go back to sleep.”<br />E.M. Goldsmithhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18387494005655553037noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-46407422131574495512016-03-06T07:33:04.952-05:002016-03-06T07:33:04.952-05:00I blend words with colours. I reckoned that was ho...I blend words with colours. I reckoned that was how everyone's brain worked (grey metal), until Mum (grass green) thought me colour blind - I'd cried for "bearblue" when my favourite pink toy was filched. <br />18 years on, and the colours mainly stay the same - except Nick's, they've<br />changed, since he started downing pills to lift weights.<br />He'd seemed kind and loving (sunny yellow), before. Mum did try to warn me - cheeks pinched (paper white), brow furrowed (earth brown) - some day there'd be a problem.<br />That day came and through wet, bloodshot eyes, my band of sunshine turned a cheap gold.Marie McKayhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11405271051226910312noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-58257238799386291602016-03-06T07:26:34.684-05:002016-03-06T07:26:34.684-05:00"Pinche cabron, I told you to watch where you..."<i><b>Pinch</b>e cabron</i>, I told you to watch where you move."<br /><br />"<i>Tnxo</i>, you two aren't in Prisu<b>nic." K</b>atia slid across the floor.<br /><br />The lab was dark, but movement was all around.<br /><br />Xavie<b>r ob</b>served the screen. "Who <b>filch</b>ed the password? <i>Vite</i>! We don't have all night."<br /><br />"HAL. Those stupid fools thought they were clever." Alejandro kept watch. "Don't forget, we'll kil<b>l if t</b>here's need."<br /><br />"Don't be so dramatic." Hitoshi countered. "We've taken over already, they just don't know it."<br /><br />"<i>Gut</i>, we're connected world wide." Xav took control. "Let's get this meeting started."<br /><br />"Someone's coming!"<br /><br />Door opens. Lights turn on.<br /><br />Silence.<br /><br />Beep. <br />LynnRodzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10796099106913990163noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-71147652354648406492016-03-06T06:24:18.924-05:002016-03-06T06:24:18.924-05:00The six-inch tiger-striped stilettos pinched his f...The six-inch tiger-striped stilettos pinched his feet almost as much as the Dolly Parton wig squeezed his brain. And that bra -<br /><br />"Lift and separate my-"<br /><br />"Smile. Look sexy," his partner said in his earpiece. She'd added a fake mole where he nicked his face while shaving. "Stop looking like a Marine. Look helpless."<br /><br />"Want to switch places?"<br /><br />"Love to!" but the Hooker Robber broke her arm when he filched her purse.<br /><br />He tottered three steps. Went down.<br /><br />The robber pounced.<br /><br />So did the Marine - stiletto to the eyeball, hundred-pound purse to the head.<br /><br />"Thanks, partner."<br /><br />"You owe me dinner."CynthiaMchttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12175917641033760408noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-72560092962980027442016-03-06T04:48:19.253-05:002016-03-06T04:48:19.253-05:00“No more penny-pinching. Pickpocket filching – nev...“No more penny-pinching. Pickpocket filching – never again.” Nancy moved deeper into the Louvre’s darkened corridors. “I can handle probation. The Mona Lisa’s worth it. Besides, I won’t get caught.”<br /><br />Footsteps neared.<br /><br />Nancy backed into a painting which suddenly gave off a greenish glow.<br /><br />Ever so slowly, she turned and stared open-mouthed at herself. There she was, in a four-hundred-year-old masterpiece, with a sorrowful man clinging to her legs while her father tried to lower her into a grave.<br /> <br />She lifted her hand toward the painting.<br /> <br />Footsteps quickened.<br /> <br />Right in the nick of time, the painting pulled her in. <br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-28472080544415659612016-03-06T03:48:52.302-05:002016-03-06T03:48:52.302-05:00Snickers from the back of the classroom.
Pinch mar...Snickers from the back of the classroom.<br />Pinch marks bloom purple and red across my skin. <br />My bag feels heavy with its extra weight, but my soul feels light, lifted somehow.<br /><br />More snickers, and an elastic band stings my ear blood red. My face remains robot like, expressionless; apparently if you ignore them, they stop.<br /><br />Don't say I never gave them fair warning.<br /><br />The gun was easy enough to filch. Dad's drawer wasn't even locked. <br />Whispers from the back as another plot is hatched. I pull my bag onto my lap. <br /><br />Go on then, one last time.<br /><br />I dare you.Laura Maryhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01604133412050870730noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-9937030617324466302016-03-06T02:23:19.560-05:002016-03-06T02:23:19.560-05:00Now
Answering investigators, new museum boss says ...Now<br />Answering investigators, new museum boss says he doesn’t know me. Hurts more than the handcuffs.<br /><br />Hour Ago<br />Nicked myself shaving beard. Back to work!<br /><br />Yesterday<br />Curator, staff fired for “lack of oversight.”<br /><br />Two days ago<br />Largest crowd since 2006 opening. Pinch myself at success. I’ll be a hero!<br /><br />Week ago<br />Megalodon jaw “filched” from display case!<br />TV news coverage of daring robbery. Rope found dangling from third-story window. Photo of lone, bearded man. <br /><br />Month ago<br />Marketing brainstorm. Topic: How to lift visitor counts this season? VP of Marketing proclaims, “No such thing as a bad idea in a brainstorm.”<br />John Frainhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01702305890462479118noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-33220346362061446962016-03-06T02:09:39.968-05:002016-03-06T02:09:39.968-05:00Equus, a four letter word meaning horse. A word P...Equus, a four letter word meaning horse. A word Peter Shaffer gave us after he learned of a crime committed in a stable – a teenage boy stabbed the eyes of six horses. Shaffer observed the stable and wrote the play, Equus. Remember War Horse? Napoleonic Kings stormed into battle on horseback. General Sir Douglas Haig had horses lifting supplies up steep hills while the Germans fired cannons. Horse and supplies fell in a tailspin churning around down the hill. Haig tried to fulfil Chantilly’s WWI objective but failed and is regarded as one of the worst generals in British history. Brian M. Biggshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12496003737348924995noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-85354833713019230202016-03-06T02:01:04.721-05:002016-03-06T02:01:04.721-05:00My kid brother spies Miss Pretty at the same time ...My kid brother spies Miss Pretty at the same time I do. When's he ever picked up girls on the “L”? I swing in, me, and a bucket of tulips. She lifts her chin, smiles. Bingo. “For my mom.” Smooth. Someone's grandma scowls, like that foil-wrapped pot must be up to no good. Pretty's twenty, tops. “I'm Nick.” Before I recite the next line she's pinched a bloom. Like she meets random guys flush with gifts? The smell, licorice, reaches me.<br /><br />“Oh, Robbie.”<br /><br />He offers her a Twizzler, my brother who's filched the produce before I spot the tag.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-27273843388420729032016-03-06T01:48:55.545-05:002016-03-06T01:48:55.545-05:00Higgins lifted himself from his mother’s nest and ...Higgins lifted himself from his mother’s nest and admired the lazy sky. <br /><br />"Wouldn’t it be amazing if we were all stars like father?” he asked his mother.<br /><br />“There aren’t many owls who can rob angels of their view,” she answered in a pinch. “Why don’t you finish your math homework and worry about being like your dad when you’re older?”<br /><br />But Higgins wasn’t in the mood to do any homework. Especially not with his mothers words nicking at his dream. Instead, he watched and dreamed and watched some more.<br /><br />Until the sun, with all its ugliness, filched his dad away.Merinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02180623481638398764noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-10173681876622128112016-03-06T01:10:02.420-05:002016-03-06T01:10:02.420-05:00The hideaway reeks with tallow and fouled breath. ...The hideaway reeks with tallow and fouled breath. Bodies jostle, spindling, hollow-eyed. <br /><br />My home, I'm told. My brothers. Orphans all. <br /><br />"...another like Nick. - They lifted <i>him</i>." That last, to me, with a gruesome gangling charade. <br /><br />"They pinched Rob yesterday--" <br /><br />"Filch!" <br /><br />Sullen, my tormentor recedes. <br /><br />"Let our brother breathe," says Big Bill Fitch. (That name, I've learned.) His voice is forbearance. His knife is muddied, imperfectly cleansed. <br /><br />I know what that knife nicked, the night I was made an orphan. In the muddle of robbery, somehow, he didn't see me. <br /><br />Some dark night soon, he won't see me again. <br /><br />AnnieColleenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04252101037498314462noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-14179682965077152592016-03-06T00:45:28.013-05:002016-03-06T00:45:28.013-05:00She had much life left in her.
Watching her passi...She had much life left in her. <br />Watching her passing selfie in the second story window, she concluded; she'd do in a pinch. <br /><br />Her diamond collar reflected the faultfinding streetlights; rainbowing her shortcut through the small club window. Some clubbers were surprised at the improbably of her appearance. <br />Some chuckled behind her back. She lifted her stare until they looked away. <br />Too finicky, too naive. <br />Wrong move losers. <br /><br />Six bodies filched of valuable finery were found next morning. <br />The clues: small bloody pawprints. <br />She had much life left in her. <br /><br />A least six out of nine; at last count.Kate Higginshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09861373649696211491noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-5672796381968235502016-03-05T23:41:47.313-05:002016-03-05T23:41:47.313-05:00I love it when someone's life heads into a tai...I love it when someone's life heads into a tails<b>pin. Ch</b>aos makes people open up to me.<br />Whether you'd like to look younger without a face<b>lift</b> or you've got p<b>rob</b>lems with love or money, I can help.<br />I once signed a contract with a man whose arrogance defies belie<b>f: Il Ch</b>eeto. (Why the nickname? The orange-hued megalomaniac reminds me of my favorite snack.)<br />He says he's a dealmaker, but no one bests a demo<b>nic k</b>now-it-all in negotiations.<br />That's why the fine print says my help expires on November 7, 2016. <br />After that, I've got a fire waiting.Sara Hallehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13566687976281880795noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-88695927149852591092016-03-05T23:38:05.534-05:002016-03-05T23:38:05.534-05:00I approached the condiment stand, my fingers autom...I approached the condiment stand, my fingers automatically lifting to grab at anything. Anything for some relief. The freshly supplied spread lay before me, ripe for the taking.<br /><br />Those Splenda packets felt like gold as I loaded my pockets to the brim. Sweat dotted my brow as I left McDonald's. A trail of yellow packets followed behind, blatant evidence of my filching. Relief consumed me as I got behind the wheel followed by the swift pinch of guilt. The shame flared, nicking my short respite.<br /><br />“Get a hold of yourself Rob,” I said aloud before heading towards Burger King.Angel Lanpherehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18018211234380237842noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-55667443681266070502016-03-05T23:31:44.867-05:002016-03-05T23:31:44.867-05:00Watching, waiting, I can feel their eyes on me. T...Watching, waiting, I can feel their eyes on me. They think I’m crazy. <br /> <br />Lifting my arm, I scratch at my side like a monkey on display. They are all waiting to see what trick I’ll perform. <br /><br />My keeper, Nick, never lets me out of his sight since the last time I pinched his rear and filched his key. He brings my food, he cleans my toilet. What a proper employee. <br /><br />The time is now. The lights are dim. I’m coming home.<br /><br />I cannot find the door to the wardrobe. All that is here is a padded cell. Freedom lost.<br />Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15843896722320731272noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-55154504739828420832016-03-05T23:18:29.940-05:002016-03-05T23:18:29.940-05:00Barry’s personal Fagan crew peered from the kitche...Barry’s personal Fagan crew peered from the kitchen, egging me on.<br /><br />“Pinch it.”<br />“Nick it.”<br />“Lift it.”<br />“Filch it.”<br /><br />Yeah, I get it. Rob the bastard. I snagged Barry’s glass eye from the coffee table. Comatose from alcohol and heroin, <br />the sofa-bound creep snored and drool fell from his open mouth. Taking his glass eye wasn’t enough, he’d sold our Tammy <br />and shipped her God knew where.<br /><br />His fucking glass eye was nothing. From my jeans pocket, I pulled out my dirk—smooth, sharp, and warm from being on my thigh. <br /><br />His good eye opened as I stabbed, drilling deep.Meghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01806075459880162155noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-84210235419150790452016-03-05T22:58:47.743-05:002016-03-05T22:58:47.743-05:00We work the same corner. He hands out pamphlets; I...We work the same corner. He hands out pamphlets; I fulfil cheap dreams.<br /><br />He tried talking to me, once. I gave him such a look his anus snicked shut. Probably didn't unclench for days.<br /><br />He always wore the same blue pin check with cutaway collar, but swallowed when I looked at him. I liked that.<br /><br />On the fourteenth he wore a goofy white rose on his lapel.<br /><br />"Shouldn't you be on a date or something?"<br /><br />He lifted his eyes to mine, unpinned the rose with shaking hands, and held it out to me.<br />RKeelanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16761835094251669865noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-72956638408888415132016-03-05T22:56:40.659-05:002016-03-05T22:56:40.659-05:00That damnable Flynn! Memory serves, he's nicke...<br />That damnable Flynn! Memory serves, he's nicked a Pollock before. Pinched it from the Royal Palace last year. Robbers hall of fame that one.”<br /><br />“Quite certain it’s Flynn?”<br /><br />“We lifted one print, same place as the rest, dead center on the wall where the bloody Pollock hung!”<br /><br />“Cheeky bastard. Let me guess, he’s back in Baltimore with a perfect alibi no less.”<br /><br />“Filched a Krasner from their museum last month inspector, same M.O. Worked there as a painter, that’s how his print mysteriously ended up on the wall!”<br /><br />“Wasn’t Krasner Pollock's wife?”<br /><br />“Aye.”<br /><br />“So Flynn’s a family man eh?”<br /><br />Steve Cassidyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03166816870967552955noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-61694697979865123552016-03-05T22:51:59.598-05:002016-03-05T22:51:59.598-05:00Have you heard? Rob Berry’s party is Satiday good ...Have you heard? Rob Berry’s party is Satiday good dark. <br /><br />You don’t say! Pa allus said he’d come to a bad end.<br /> <br />Hear it’s pitched to be a big’un—you know how he likes fishin’.<br /> <br />Got pinched? For filchin’?<br /><br />Yeah, only caught three. <br /><br />Him and who else?<br /><br />It’s been nick and tuck, but, for sure, they’ll be plenty of booze at his fry. <br /> <br />Well, shut my ears! Filchin’ gets you fried now? I’ll swannne! Them Republicans <br /><br />gunnin’ the country right off the clift.<br /><br />Cliff shot a swan? Nobody neva tells me nothin’.Rena McClure Taylorhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02192671907943907089noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-30392026532453165572016-03-05T22:42:58.391-05:002016-03-05T22:42:58.391-05:00The snick of the ceremonial blade and the smudgy s...The s<b>nick</b> of the ceremonial blade and the smudgy smoke of sage, the <b>rob</b>e around her arms falling back as she <b>lift</b>ed letters through the air, a spell in cursive. All the universities said they had no cure for curses, no use for sorcerers who couldn't cast them. <br /><br />But when she <b>pinch</b>ed light out of nothing like one more stage magician <b>filch</b>ing applause from an audience on legerdemain alone, for that moment it was enough: sunlight and stained glass, thin wisps of sooty cinder script, and at last acceptance rising over the ashes of scrolls beginning: "unfortunately, we do regret..."Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-47533321698928835702016-03-05T21:41:35.454-05:002016-03-05T21:41:35.454-05:00I've been running my entire life.
In the thir...I've been running my entire life.<br /><br />In the third grade, I ran after Miles when he lifted my pincheck skirt.<br /><br />When we dated in high school, I ran out of willpower.<br /><br />When both lines turned pink, I ran, panicky, to my doctor's office.<br /><br />When Miles started working late, I ran through his e-mails and filched his text messages.<br /><br />But when our kids left for college, I ran out of patience.<br /><br />So when he sent his secretary to collect his wardrobe, I ran her over.<br /><br />Now I'm in Mexico. And I'm still running.<br />Just Janhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12546035917149403735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-4758129713070514492016-03-05T21:24:43.386-05:002016-03-05T21:24:43.386-05:00They said the whole thing would be over in a pinch...They said the whole thing would be over in a pinch. Even after all the death, we're not entirely sure it is. 5 years in, and still checking, room by room.<br /><br />All I can see or smell is death and hatred. I hate this. My two brothers, Nick and Rob, will never understand what I've become, what I've had to endure.<br /><br />I find the beer-tap. The sign says Filchner. I don't know, I don't speak dirty German. Does it work? Do I drown my anger with this Nazi poison? I lift the handle and... hurry up and wait.<br /><br />"Holy shit! It's him! It's Adolf!"<br /><br /> Holy shit is right.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04148789250122629732noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-15320987489817946092016-03-05T20:50:15.312-05:002016-03-05T20:50:15.312-05:00Always a glue-sniffer. The cheapest high usually w...Always a glue-sniffer. The cheapest high usually worked in a pinch.<br /><br />Until he passed the glue factory.<br /><br />At 1:00 AM, he called a taxi and exited a block away, where he pulled on leather gloves and a ski mask.<br /><br />Vats of glue awaited. The factory’s locked doors were easy enough to nick.<br /><br />Ditching the ski mask, he lifted the nearest lid, and inhaled the sweet smell of heaven.<br /><br />He came to, cemented to the floor, surrounded by caution tape and police footsteps.<br /><br />A robber, filching nothing.Karen McCoyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02640324898284007337noreply@blogger.com