tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post5291167790082476510..comments2024-03-18T09:09:59.625-04:00Comments on Janet Reid, Literary Agent: Yes, it's time for another flash fiction contest!Janet Reidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615380335938685231noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-21393720329705286892012-05-06T03:43:04.247-04:002012-05-06T03:43:04.247-04:00"Single malt. No ice. Double."
A woma..."Single malt. No ice. Double." <br /> <br />A woman’s voice.<br /><br />Trouble.<br /> <br />I stood up. "Miss, I can't serve you. Not here."<br /><br />She smiled and, pointing behind her, asked, "What about her?"<br /><br />Her twin stood by the door. Same wrap-around shades. Same smile that'd make your head spin. I glanced at the occupied tables.<br /><br />"I can’t. Not in the Inquisitors’ Bar, Miss. You know that." <br /><br />She sighed, "I know.” <br /><br />She smiled again. “When they ask, tell them, ‘This is war.’"<br /> <br />Then she touched my shoulder and a bubble cocooned me, just as the other one lifted her shades and the world went white.Kate Outhwaitehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12294866010972517265noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-73821543986247680962012-05-06T02:27:18.649-04:002012-05-06T02:27:18.649-04:00She watches them from the bench. A moment of peace...She watches them from the bench. A moment of peace, serenity surrounds her while they play in the sandbox. Double trouble, they say. But as they spin, balance, giggle, and fall they become double joy. Blue sky, fluffy clouds, bubbles in the air – nature’s corny artwork as real as the love within her. Until a scream, a sand-covered cry snaps the canvas in two. She scolds and hugs, lectures and loves. In her twin world, everything comes in pairs.Kriszhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15229058797818116833noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-18433575908589502552012-05-06T00:51:14.506-04:002012-05-06T00:51:14.506-04:00Bubbles swapped her acrylic platforms for Walsh’s ...Bubbles swapped her acrylic platforms for Walsh’s cowboy boots; easier to run in, she figured. Didn’t hurt he hid Double Trouble in them -- twin .38 specials with his ex-wives’ names engraved in the handles. <br /><br />“Such a lousy tipper.” Bubbles eyed the curtains leading to the main stage. People screamed, but not as many since “You Spin Me Right Round” began blaring. “Shame to die like this, though.”<br /><br />He’d look peaceful if it weren’t for the bite marks covering his face. <br /><br />The music stopped, replaced by moaning zombies.<br /> <br />Sighing, Bubbles put a bullet in Walsh’s brain. “Guess I’m up next.”David S.https://www.blogger.com/profile/08817217067647332879noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-63631944974145120832012-05-06T00:12:52.700-04:002012-05-06T00:12:52.700-04:00The swamp cooler ran continually, but with humidit...The swamp cooler ran continually, but with humidity in the high double digits, it was still hotter than hell. Mom could no longer trouble herself to go near the stove. She set up cots in the cellar and fed us okra, peaches, apple butter, and green beans. <br /><br />We lived in a bubble that summer, blissfully unaware of the outside world spinning its way to an overheated oblivion. The twin pleasures of canned fruits and the smell of earth saturated me so that even now, the taste of stewed tomatoes makes me wish I could lie down and sleep until dusk.Shaunnahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06542124673668776592noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-34919474912320067152012-05-05T22:54:52.594-04:002012-05-05T22:54:52.594-04:00Apparently I live in a bubble. That’s what the cou...Apparently I live in a bubble. That’s what the counselor said. What do I know? Trouble follows me around like a clingy girlfriend. I’m tired of asking for help. Every time I see a therapist, or a psychiatrist, or another person to talk to about my problems, it’s like I’m seeing double. Except for the counselor, that is. She’s different. She lets me take a spin in her chair every once in a while when we come to a lull. What, I’m 19 and it’s been 12 years since I last saw my twin and I’m automatically labeled for life?YuMin Yehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09485830603460817386noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-73683654508108168082012-05-05T22:33:50.094-04:002012-05-05T22:33:50.094-04:00“Trouble . . . ,” she uttered with a choked voice ...“Trouble . . . ,” she uttered with a choked voice while the room seemed to spin, “the twin . . . cancer . . .”<br /><br />“Positive?!” he asked too loudly into the phone failing to hide the fear in his voice.<br /><br />She felt as if her head were floating in a bubble, she whispered, “Both . . . take . . . the surgeon recommended a bilateral . . . double.”AuthorGroupiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11422630639381025369noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-48189869635005983702012-05-05T22:32:54.607-04:002012-05-05T22:32:54.607-04:00Buried alive. Trapped in a bubble of draining air ...Buried alive. Trapped in a bubble of draining air I choke on screams for deliverance, feeling myself spin towards oblivion. I feel disconnected, as though I am somewhere else, somewhere safe and watching my twin be murdered. But the trouble is real. The killer known as 'The Grave Digger' has outwitted me. He spiked my drink, a double bourbon. Now I am here, drugged and alone and about to die. My killer's taunts sting my ears with each slap of cold earth that lands on my coffin. "Hold your breath detective!"Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-22801164604233107352012-05-05T21:45:07.039-04:002012-05-05T21:45:07.039-04:00Doctor Mitchell stared, horrified by the escape of...Doctor Mitchell stared, horrified by the escape of the tiny bubble of anti-matter— big trouble! The harmless looking bubble began to double in size and to spin! He grabbed a net from a nearby table and tried to trap the bubble inside the cottony interior—too late, he heard the pop, in an instant, a black hole appeared followed by a twin. He felt himself being torn apart; one side of his body was pulled inside the first hole, the other half was sucked in by the second. His last thought, “Why did I dabble in the darkest of arts?”Angela Rickettshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08360684408590875887noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-37577658443220624772012-05-05T21:39:17.119-04:002012-05-05T21:39:17.119-04:00I knew my new job was odd when I saw the double-bo...I knew my new job was odd when I saw the double-boilers that bubbled with lavender brew. <br /> <br />“Oh, that’s liquefied time. For centuries, I’ve stolen stray minutes, purified and bottled them, then sold the mix to the wealthy. Why do you think they get to do so much while your day just disappears? New technology makes it even easier.<br /><br />"Okay people, we have orders to fill. Time is literally money!" <br /><br />I looked over my phone script. <br /><br /><i>"Hi, I'm calling about our exciting twin-spin-to-win game. If it’s no trouble, you've got nothing to lose but a few minutes of your time."</i>Terri Coophttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07461583056862465783noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-37032687844466722012012-05-05T21:30:22.658-04:002012-05-05T21:30:22.658-04:00Sherry popped her bubble gum loudly. The waiter lo...Sherry popped her bubble gum loudly. The waiter looked over and then away. He didn’t want trouble. She leaned forward in her seat, giving him a generous view of her breasts.<br />She looked out the cafe window, listening for Adam’s motorcycle. Her reflection showed the miniskirt she had stolen from her twin sister’s closet. She looked like Claire’s double. <br />Adam pushed through the door, helmet in hand. He bent to kiss her, his hand touching her leg. She pressed his palm into her thigh.<br />“Ready to go for a spin, Claire?” he asked.<br />“Are you?” Sherry replied.Diannehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09390351170918600908noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-26052854544388335272012-05-05T21:18:47.073-04:002012-05-05T21:18:47.073-04:00My name is Ferris, and I am common frog who once l...My name is Ferris, and I am common frog who once lived in a boxwood shrub next to a fine suburban house. A couple with five year old TWINs owned it, and seldom caused me TROUBLE. In the springtime, I liked to watch them blow BUBBLEs on the stoop and jump rope in the lawn. <br /><br />Until they found me. <br /><br />I thought I was seeing DOUBLE with those two freckled faces staring me down. The memory makes my head SPIN. Now I call a plastic container home, and spend my days trying to pee on their hands whenever I can.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-9488515097365767612012-05-05T19:56:12.250-04:002012-05-05T19:56:12.250-04:00The room began to spin as the drug worked its way ...The room began to spin as the drug worked its way through her system and Candy felt a laugh bubble its way to the surface. “I’m in trouble,” she giggled. <br />“You don’t know the half of it,” her sister, Carmen, told her. “That little treat cost me double.” <br />“Really, why,” Candy slurred, “because we’re twins?”<br />“No, because of what comes next.” <br />“Is it fun?”<br />“It is for me.” <br />Carmen closed the door behind her and strolled out into the afternoon sunlight. “Suicide is such a bitch,” she thought. And then she smiled.bookishhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07972033888371345128noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-67300211110777659762012-05-05T19:43:56.489-04:002012-05-05T19:43:56.489-04:00Whacking out Mojitos, assembly-line style, Ted rec...Whacking out Mojitos, assembly-line style, Ted recognized trouble long before the guy ordered his fourth double martini. People who drank that fast were looking for it. He hadn’t glanced at the twin sisters perched beside him. Not even when one decided to spin her bar stool, brushing her leg on his with every turn, blowing a gum bubble balloon.<br /><br />When the man stood to reach inside the leather satchel he’d kept protected under his elbow on the bar, Ted was ready. He slammed the stainless steel muddler into his wrist and watched the revolver clatter harmless to the floor.Rob Brunethttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07898949528587775672noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-73550991632652251872012-05-05T19:36:23.968-04:002012-05-05T19:36:23.968-04:00The double-horned beast sniffs the air. Troubled b...The double-horned beast sniffs the air. Troubled by weak eyes, it hunts by scent.<br /><br />Did it track me?<br /><br />I hunch lower behind a bush, my eyes following the twin horns above the brush. It snuffles and wanders nearby, spittle foams and bubbles in its mouth. It stops. Raising a neck as thick as an oak, it lets loose a bellow that shakes the ground.<br /><br />Another beast answers in the distance, and another. The valley echoes with their thundering and the tremors of their approach. I wait until the beast turns.<br /><br />I bolt towards the truck. <br /><br />The beast spins. <br /><br />We race.AP Diggshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02942643753927511014noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-72401687488307756632012-05-05T19:02:12.727-04:002012-05-05T19:02:12.727-04:00“I’m sorry, baby,” she said, tossing those thin bl...“I’m sorry, baby,” she said, tossing those thin blond curls the way he liked. “It’s just been so long since you passed through town.” She sashayed over to the wet bar. “Dewers?” <br /><br />She created more trouble than she was worth, but damn, she was hot.<br /><br />“Double.” When she brought it to him, he fished the ice out of the glass and ran it over the twin fingernail scratches running down his shaved chest.<br /><br />She gave him a co-conspirator’s grin, oblivious to the thought bubble hanging over his head: <i>How the heck am I gonna spin this one to my wife?</i>Rachel Searleshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09413906883952940334noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-50152301730491914902012-05-05T18:28:40.718-04:002012-05-05T18:28:40.718-04:00"Trouble. Double trouble."
Twin sets of..."Trouble. Double trouble."<br /><br />Twin sets of golden feline eyes watch my finger as I point to one, then the other.<br /><br />"Put them together, you have triple trouble."<br /><br />Ears twitch. Human. Are you going to blow another bubble, or what?<br /><br />The bubble floats and spins for a brief moment before dying on the tip of a kitten claw.JanetLeehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04351167841202171487noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-28074815355134398762012-05-05T17:39:09.448-04:002012-05-05T17:39:09.448-04:00GIZZARD COUNTY OPEN MIC QUARTER FINALS
-100 words...GIZZARD COUNTY OPEN MIC QUARTER FINALS<br /> -100 words<br /><br /><br /><br />———<br />"My writing tends to be very dark, so I introduced humor," says one of the serious writerly folk as we enter the double-wide trailer. "You can't take people to dark places without introducing humor." Poems clutched to bosoms, she bubbles with pride.<br /><br />"You can if you bind their wrists and ankles, tape their mouth shut, and throw them in the trunk of your car," says my inner, evil BillyBob twin. <br /><br />She snarls.<br /><br />I spin it."But that's just me. Everyone has their own process." <br /><br />"The trouble is <i>everyone's</i> a writer these days," she says as she takes the stage.Bill Scotthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13937438605204186093noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-17127163020121377382012-05-05T17:11:20.585-04:002012-05-05T17:11:20.585-04:00"Trouble Magnet," his wife called him, a..."Trouble Magnet," his wife called him, among other things.<br /><br />The taped and broken nose didn't help his defense.<br /><br />Marty admitted his moral compass could spin, evidence of his double life. The deceitful twin owned the accoutrements of normalcy: friends, family, stable job, Friday afternoon golf. A fascination with amateur wrestling explained away the occasional bruise. Only then could he dip into the shadows.<br /><br />Spandex embraced, he buttoned the scarlet cape at his throat, stemming a bubble of laughter. When he flew this time, he'd make a special effort not to smack a building with his face.KarinB.https://www.blogger.com/profile/01329305872666186541noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-66453152212254621532012-05-05T15:09:40.915-04:002012-05-05T15:09:40.915-04:00The gun presses into Jack’s back.
“Double the bet...The gun presses into Jack’s back.<br /><br />“Double the bet,” the man whispers from behind.<br /><br />What a fucking night. Ten minutes ago Jack could still taste the cinnamon bubble gum from the twin blondes’ lips; now he only tastes his own blood. This must be protocol when you are three hundred dollars short, Jack thinks. That club owner is a real prick.<br /><br />Jack places eight hundred dollars in chips on red.<br /><br />“Spin it,” Jack says.<br /><br />The silver ball travels endlessly before landing on black. Jack’s chips disappear.<br /><br />“Does this mean I am in trouble?” Jack smirks.<br /><br />“Something like that.”<br /><br />Click.Jimmy Jhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12560094278461238084noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-38477956643921607042012-05-05T14:46:41.076-04:002012-05-05T14:46:41.076-04:0094 Words:
“Dad! Two on the line!“ I shout over th...94 Words:<br /><br />“Dad! Two on the line!“ I shout over the engine’s roar. The mackerel leap through the bubbling chop, desperate to escape. <br /><br />“Double trouble?” Dad smiles and throttles down the twin Merc. The boat jerks; I sway and grip the rail. “Let’s reel ‘em in.”<br /><br />Dad pulls in the line and the mackerel spin, wriggling to break free. Then splash! Without warning, the sea churns and boils around us. Dad gasps and whirls about, roughly shoving me down. <br /><br />A fish breaches alongside. It dwarfs my Dad’s boat.<br /><br />Mama mackerel has come for her children.HungryGalshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10782755182536422905noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-91440318710986708522012-05-05T14:25:25.420-04:002012-05-05T14:25:25.420-04:00They thought I couldn't hear their whispers - ...They thought I couldn't hear their whispers - but I could.<br /><br />Walking into town to fetch water from the well, my fingers clasping tightly the soft, petaled folds of my grandmother's skirt, my face buried deep within its linen calm. <br /><br />I could see them from the corners of my eyes. Crouched down in their long-hemmed tunics, their faces red from the hissing steam of the fiery ovens.<br /><br />The words they formed were unmistakable.<br /><br />"Double trouble."<br /><br />I was my twin - she me.<br /><br />But he'd put a spin on it. A bubble of truth.<br /><br />I think he still blames me for Sara's demise.Layla Fiskehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15858462353148601679noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-45678056466033350242012-05-05T14:23:43.905-04:002012-05-05T14:23:43.905-04:00In the Spin Galaxy of the Wingnut Zone, King Rush’...In the Spin Galaxy of the Wingnut Zone, King Rush’s dimmer twin, Putz, hijacked the royal space bubble with cyborg pal, Trouble. Equipped with sunspot acceleration, the bubble popped into the earth’s atmosphere above the Cayman Islands.<br /><br />After pinpointing the location of the 1% vault, Putz said, “Trouble, you’re programmed to become Mitt Romney’s double with a hint of Groucho wit.”<br /><br />“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” said Trouble. “Romney’s a bigger stiff than Nixon.”<br /><br />“Silence! We proceed as planned. Kidnap Mitt, strap him to the roof of the bubble and travel the universe until after the election.”Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01403714167201265834noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-84169770361495524202012-05-05T13:40:21.177-04:002012-05-05T13:40:21.177-04:00With a deep breath, I finally relax. She’s saved m...With a deep breath, I finally relax. She’s saved me from the trouble again. She is nothing if not resourceful. <br /><br />I watch as bubble after bubble crests the surface, the dead weight of the body causing a slight spin in the water. My cyclone of secrets. <br /><br />The stress of the last few days now a memory. I return to the car, relieved. I take a seat on the hot leather and glance in the mirror. <br /><br />I wink at her. My twin. My double. <br /><br />Where she’s retreated, deep in the recesses of my mind, I know she hears my silent thanks. <br /><br />@JessaRusso<br />100 wordsJessa Russo https://www.blogger.com/profile/07061996967428020722noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-61646505539053272882012-05-05T13:29:19.496-04:002012-05-05T13:29:19.496-04:00In the basement she retreats. Beneath the troubled...In the basement she retreats. Beneath the troubled world, she uncovers the old mirror with its silver frame, grimy with age. The days are long, she whispers to the twin behind the glass.<br /><br />She tucks her toes inside dowdy pink slippers. Her feet arch as younger days bubble up in her mind, and she smells the musty studio and hears the piano echoing off the walls.<br /><br />Her feet in fifth position, she nods at the girl in the mirror, and together they begin to spin. The fluidity of their pirouette softens the pain like cool water against a deep cut.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01235832553786202667noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-86897419232223431602012-05-05T13:26:22.481-04:002012-05-05T13:26:22.481-04:00I didn’t like them, not one damn bit. They always ...I didn’t like them, not one damn bit. They always meant trouble. I turned to the bartender and ordered a double shot of vodka. I would need it to spin this into something manageable. I slammed the first shot down, then its twin. I forcefully ignored the bubbles boiling in my stomach. <br /><br />I walked back over to my Captain, taking the gear. Once it was on, I sat on the boat watching the sandbar disappear entirely. We stopped moving. <br /><br />He pointed to a bucket of blood and guts. “There’s the shark bait.” <br /><br />This pay raise better be worth dying for.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com