A NIGHT AT THE THEATER by E.F. Olsson {short flash}

Well-written, scary flash fiction… what did all of that carnage?!
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E. F. Olsson


I took my place in the school theater. Luckily a seat was available on the end so in the event I had to take care of some business, I didn’t have to step on toes and blocked views as I made my way to the aisle. Most parents fought to be close so they could record their child’s performance on their smart phone. This was the second show of the year and a formable one, the ‘Great Gatsby’.

Thomas had been working hard to be apart of this production. When he first told me that he was going to be a part of the show, I asked him which part are you playing, Nick Carraway? Jay Gatsby? Perhaps, Tom Buchanan?

“No,” he said. “None of them, dad.”

“Then who else is there?”

“I get to use the left spotlight.”

“Oh. And I…

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Tale Weaver #50: “sending out an SOS” – Message in a Bottle

A hilarious, clever tale… oh those blasted Tale Weavers!
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Dear Friends

This tale is the most amazing I have ever received and I acquired it by sheer accident. Last Friday as I was walking along the beach near home I came across a bottle washed up on the shore. Inside was a note and a note like I never suspected.

I pulled the note from inside the bottle and unwrapped it.

I am going to relay the contents to you and ask what would you do in my shoes?

Dear Person who finds this note,

I desperately need your help.

Please call the police, the fire brigade,

All emergency services and bring a ladder.

I have found myself locked inside the Tale Weaver.

What you think is a gentle weekly prompt is in fact a portal to the most devilish of places.

I know it was my fault to challenge the hosts into a frenzied argument as the validity…

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THE NOISES ON THE OTHER SIDE by E.F. Olsson {Short Flash}

Gripping, powerful ghost story… this one will fool ya!
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E. F. Olsson

What's on the other side of the door?THE NOISES ON THE OTHER SIDE by E.F. Olsson

The bedroom was dark. Rain pattered against the long window. It was colder for this time of year. Even in the middle of the day, it was gloomy with the sun tucked away behind the continuous cloud cover.

In the corner of the upstairs bedroom, Colleen and Maggie sat huddled holding onto each other. Their eyes were wide and unblinking.

“Did you hear that?” Asked Colleen. Her voice was shaky and uncertain.

Maggie craned her head to listen than frantically shook her head.

“I hear yelling,” Colleen whispered.

“Are they coming?” Maggie said and gripped her old sister tighter. Tears began to well up and stream down her cheeks.

Footsteps pounded up a staircase. The floor creaked outside of the bedroom door. Maggie closed her eyes as if to wish the noises to go away. The footsteps continued on to another…

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A wonderful flash fiction piece of hope and redemption.
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public-domain-images-free-stock-photos-shoes-walking-feet-grImage: http://publicdomainarchive.com/public-domain-images-shoes-walking-feet-grey-gravel-blue-jeans/

The opening sentence for the January 22nd  Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner:  “Enough is enough.”

I found myself hopelessly in love. But it was a love I didn’t want to stuff up like I had so many other relationships.

In the clear morning light the path to the hill of indecision still loomed high, still presented itself with choices to either run or face the consequences of pursuing a love that could be well near impossible

All was perfectly understandable I thought that she would baulk at a man with a past like mine. Telling her I’d been in gaol three times wasn’t my smartest move I had to say. But I was determined to be honest in my post incarceration life.

Take me or not I thought, whether or not I’d had a checked life was immaterial to the man I believed I now was…

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