Monday, August 27, 2018


Flash Fiction Stories

I’ve always admired writers who can elicit an emotional response from a story written in 1000 words or less. Those few, yet precise words need to take you on a roller coaster ride of emotions using only a couple of characters, one or maybe two scenes, while providing a plot filled with conflict and then somehow wrap-up leaving you both satisfied and wanting more. Not an easy task for such a small amount of words, but when done right, accomplishes all of the above seamlessly. 

There are different theories on word count and story length to be considered flash fiction. However, the rule of thumb is any story written with a few words all the way up to about 1000 words is considered a flash fiction piece. These short stories have also been referred to as short-shorts, sudden fiction, and micro fiction. 

In my opinion, a good flash fiction piece needs to be pulled from a moment in time. Perhaps already knee-deep in the action, or a reaction to something that has just occurred, or maybe even the prelude to something about to happen. It should be a complete, satisfying story scene with a beginning, a middle, and an end, perhaps within a bigger story. Either way, while the moment written about may end, that next moment is sitting there waiting to be discovered within the reader’s own imagination as to what happens next. Quite simply, just as in real life, although the scene is complete, the story does not end merely because the words on the page have ended. Instead, the reader will, hopefully, leap to that next moment and come to their own conclusion as to where the story really ends.

In the interest of continuing to grow and improve as a writer, I'd like to share a 500-word flash fiction piece I’ve been working on and tweaking just for the fun of it. I don’t begin to believe that it fully accomplishes what I’ve just stated above, but…

… I will let you jump to your own conclusion J

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Loose Ends

Jimmy was on his knees silently weeping. He refused to give his assailant the satisfaction of seeing him cry out loud. He still felt that he’d done nothing wrong. His hands were positioned behind his back, secured tightly by a couple of large zip-ties that were starting to cut into his wrists. He could feel the cold, steel point of the twelve-inch blade pulling the hairs from the base of his neck as it sunk deep into his body at an angle aimed for his heart. He knew the wetness he felt running across his fingertips was from the blood dripping down his back as the knife continued its journey inward. The slight shiver he experienced as the blood reached his hands had surprised him.

  This is it, he thought, this is how I’m going to die. He said a prayer to himself as his body began to convulse from the blade pushing through his spine and into the backside of his heart. His vision began to fade. First at the outer edge of his eyes, then quickly enveloping into total darkness as he felt his soul slip away.

  The man responsible for Jimmy’s death let the knife fall from his hand as the body lurched forward and collapsed flat on the ground.

  George looked at Jimmy lying there while blood began to pool around his body. He leaned in close and spit in his brother’s face for good measure, and then walked out of the room.

  He went into the bathroom where the woman was lying in the tub, submerged in three feet of water. George angrily surprised Eileen as she was washing off the stank of his younger brother. Actually, she’d been relaxing in the tub with her eyes closed when he’d walked in on her. She thought it was Jimmy until she felt his cold hands wrapped around her neck. Her eyes popped open just as he pushed her face beneath the water. It was over in less than a minute, and now, he was bent over kissing his wife on the forehead, while a surprised look of terror remained frozen forever in her lifeless eyes.

  He walked out the front door of his house, tipped a hello to the neighbor, and got into his car. George sat in the driveway trying to clear his head, but his thoughts kept going back to what he had just done. His brother. His wife. Their betrayal. His act of vengeance. He groaned.

  George realized he still had one loose end left to tie up, but this would require something more than a knife. He opened the car’s glove box and pulled out the .32 he had stashed inside. He smiled as he remembered that old phrase his brother used to say when they were kids; Life’s a bitch, and then you die. He sighed, took a deep breath, and as those words echoed in his head, he held the gun tight against his chin and pulled the trigger.

__________________________________________
I would love to hear any comments, positive or negative on what you think about the story.

Thanks! 😀

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Friday, August 17, 2018

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by Joe Congel
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Saturday, August 11, 2018


A Short Story
So I've had this idea for a story rattling around in my head for a little while. It’s a bit different for me as it’s a departure from the kind of stuff I usually write… it’s my first foray into this side of my brain. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! 😎
__________________
Daddy's Girl

Jen was sitting on the concrete patio that surrounded the pool in her backyard. She liked to get up early in the summertime so that she could spend a few moments outside before getting ready for work. She stared at the crystal clear, blue-tinted water swirling around her toes as her legs dangled against the side wall at the shallow end.
   It was a beautiful hourglass design, with a slide that turned like a corkscrew, depositing its passengers into the deepest part of the pool.
   Jen thought back to all the fun her family had over the years; the parties, the long drawn out afternoons developing the perfect tan, the moonlight swims after a hard day.
   The grounds around the pool were just as beautiful as the pool itself. A rock garden on one side that had hidden Bluetooth speakers shaped like the rocks, provided the perfect tunes whenever needed. A lush green area on the other side, manicured so tightly that you could use it as a putting green. There was a small pool house that her dad built that had enough room to store extra towels, flotation chairs with drink holders, and a porta-potty so you didn’t track water dripping from your bathing suit into the house.
   Jen had inherited the house when her parents had passed on several years ago. She loved this house, and her dad had put a lot of work into the park-like backyard. He had also taught her the importance of maintaining a yard like this—the time it took to keep everything perfect—using the right tools, the right seed, and most importantly, the right fertilizer. The fertilizer was the key, he always said. She had developed quite the green thumb thanks to her dad. She felt a little guilty though because lately, she had been considering selling the property. She was single, and it was really too much house and yard for one person.
   Property values had soared in her neighborhood over the last few years, and she knew she would be able to cash in if she were to sell. But now she was worried. She was worried that her property was about to go down in value. She was worried because she was pretty sure that the dead body floating face down in the shallow end of her pool would affect the value. People were funny about buying houses where a murder might’ve taken place.
   She probably should have called 911, but her curiosity was getting the best of her. She jumped into the water and waded across to where the man was floating. She circled around him a couple of times trying to decide if she should touch him or not. She finally reached out and poked him on the top of the head.
   Between the poke and the waves she created, the body bobbed up and down and began to rotate. It startled her, and she jumped back before she remembered that he was dead. She moved closer to him and grabbed the hair on the back of his head and lifted it up as high as she could. She looked at his face, and even though it was a bit bloated from being submerged in water, she was relieved that she didn’t recognize him. She studied his features and was astonished at how good looking he was. Even with the large hole that seemed to have been caused by a bullet entering through the forehead and appearing to have exited through the back of his skull. What a waste, she thought, as she let his face drop back into the water.
   She swam over to the ladder and climbed out of the pool. After toweling herself off, Jen sat on one of the lounge chairs set up by the deep end and lit up a cigarette. She contemplated what her next move should be and by the time she had finished her second smoke, a plan had formed in her mind.
   Jen walked over to the gate and made sure it was securely locked before heading into the house. The fence and gate were made of wide wooden planks, so she knew that no one could see into her backyard. Her father had made sure that the fence had been built tall enough that the perverted kids in the neighborhood wouldn’t be able to drool over his daughter while she laid around soaking up the sun. She silently thanked him for that now, as it also provided the privacy she would need to carry out her plan.
   Jen made her way back inside, showered, and dressed for work. She locked up the house and headed out to start her day.
******
At nine AM the next morning, Jen walked out to the pool area. She noticed that Johnny—she thought he looked like a Johnny—had floated to the shallow end and was lying across the steps, half in and half out of the knee-high water.
   She chuckled. “You look like a beached whale, Johnny,” she said. “But at least you’ll be easier for me to pull out of the water now.”
   She leaned down, and grabbing him from under the arms, pulled the body the rest of the way up the steps and out of the pool. The body had obviously taken in a lot of water, which made him heavier than she’d expected. She dragged him across the cement deck and onto the manicured lawn. Exhausted, she flopped down on the grass beside him.
   “Today’s Saturday,” she smiled. “We get to spend the whole day together.”
   Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew what she was doing was wrong. Somebody was probably looking for this guy. He was shot through the head, for God’s sake! But she was enjoying the fantasy, and she could make up any story she wanted about how this man ended up in her yard, in her pool. She didn’t know if he was a bad guy that paid the ultimate price for things he’d done, or if he was an innocent victim of a crime.
   Still lying on the ground next to the body, Jen propped herself up on her left side, using her elbow and forearm to steady herself. She reached over with her right hand and ran it through the dead man’s hair. She stroked his hair, being careful to avoid the gaping hole on the backside of his head. She noticed that his hair seemed stiff and dirty.
   “Those pool chemicals certainly didn’t do your hair any favors,” she sighed. “But don’t worry, I’ve got some really good shampoo that will wash those nasty chemicals right out.” She smiled as she continued to gently stroke his head. “Then we’ll put some conditioner in there—don’t you fret, Johnny, your hair will be soft as silk when I’m through.” She paused, and then staring into his lifeless eyes, said, “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes and clean that nasty gash on your head.” She jumped up. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back,” she called out over her shoulder as she ran to the house.
   Jen went into her bedroom and rifled through the clothes hanging in her closet. She settled on a men’s muted yellow polo shirt that was folded on the shelf behind the men’s button-down dress shirts and pants that were neatly positioned on hangers. Next, she went over to the dresser and found a drawer filled with men’s shorts and pulled out a nice khaki colored pair that she thought complimented the yellow shirt. She also grabbed a clean pair of boxers and socks. As she turned to leave, she stopped and thought about what she was doing. It didn’t make any sensethis was wrong! After a moment she sighed as she felt her mind clear. Something was wrong and she now realized what that something was—she turned back towards the dresser and returned the socks to the drawer. Johnny was not a sock guy, she decided. Instead, she grabbed a pair of lightweight boat shoes from the closet. That’s better, she thought. But she still felt this nagging feeling that something was off as she left the bedroom. A brief memory that she couldn’t quite catch flashed through her mind. She furrowed her brows. The men’s clothes. Why did she have a closet and dresser filled with men’s clothes? She smiled, well, of course, they must be daddy’s old clothes! She sighed with relief certain that was what the memory flash was about—her father. She smiled as she thought about him. She missed her dad. Maybe that’s why she felt the need to make sure Johnny was properly taken care of? Feeling satisfied with her explanation of that pesky nagging sensation, she went to the adjoining bathroom and took a bottle of shampoo and conditioner from a shelf above her tub, grabbed two clean towels, and headed back outside to where Johnny was waiting.
   “Okay, Johnny,” she said as she tugged on the dead guy’s pants. “Let’s get these heavy, wet clothes off your body.”
   Jen spent the next twenty minutes stripping off all the wet items from the corpse. She dried off his legs, his torso, and his private parts. She blushed slightly as she wiped him down.
   “My, you certainly are impressive,” she whispered with a shy smile. She grabbed his arms and pulled him back toward the pool. Dunking his head back into the water, she said, “It’s time we get that ugly wound cleaned out and get your hair nice and silky soft.”
   She used one of the towels to gently clean inside the bullet hole that had torn apart the lifeless head. After she was satisfied that she had wiped away all the dry crusty blood from around the opening, she began to work the shampoo and conditioner into the hair. When she had properly washed and rinsed the stringy hair to her liking, she leaned in and inhaled deeply.
   “That’s better,” she said, softly stroking the strands. “Now you smell like flowers in a funeral home. What do you think Johnny?” She laughed at that. He had no comment—he was the strong, silent type.
   Jen began to dress Johnny. She was meticulous in wanting to make sure that everything was just right. She took her time tucking the yellow shirt into the khaki shorts so that there were no visible lines or wrinkles anywhere. Once satisfied that he was perfect, she slipped on the boat shoes. She stepped back and admired her work. Boat shoes were definitely the way to go, she thought, smiling.
   She sighed deeply as she stood back and looked across the pool at the perfect lawn. Well, it was perfect until last night, that is. Jen had dug an eight foot long by four-foot deep hole right in the middle of the perfect grass. She hated messing up such perfection but it was actually a necessary part of why the grass was so lush and green. If she dug down any further than four feet she would lose the benefit of the fertilization effect Johnny would provide. And besides, the last time, the lawn had bounced right back within a month or two, so the eyesore digging up the lawn caused was only temporary anyway.
   The phone vibrating in her pocket startled her. She had forgotten she even had it with her. “Hello,” she said after digging it from her pocket.
   “Hey, Jen… its Dr. Sherry,” said the woman on the other end of the phone. “You missed our appointment yesterday.”
   Jen felt her heart drop into her stomach. Shit! She steeled herself before replying. “Oh, hi Dr. Sherry. Yeah… I’m sorry about that. I meant to call you before I left yesterday. I had to get right home. I... I was expecting company.”
   Her reply was met with silence. After a few seconds, Dr. Sherry Taylor sighed into the phone. “Jen, this is the third appointment you’ve missed in the last month. You know you’re required to check in with me twice a week… every Tuesday and Friday.” She paused. “I can’t continue to let this slide. I’m coming to do a home visit today. I’ll see you in an hou—”
   Jen cut her off in a panic. “NO!” she said much more forcefully than she wanted. She backed her tone down immediately. “I mean… I can’t. I’ve… got plans this afternoon.” Her hand was shaking as she tried to keep her grip on the phone. “I’ll be in your office first thing Monday morning… I promise!”
   The doctor sighed deeply into the phone. “Jen,” she began, “the Judge was very specific on the terms of your release. You’ve done a good job showing up for work every day, but I’m a little worried that you’re not taking our weekly meetings seriously.” She paused. “You want to continue to get better, don’t you?”
   Hmmph, she thought. Better! What a joke! They don't care if I get better! How can I be expected to get better when they don’t understand me… don’t trust me?
   She looked over at Johnny laying by the pool. She closed her eyes and said into the phone, “Yes, Dr. Sherry, I want to continue to get better.”
   “Good. So I’ll see you in an hour, then,” she said, sounding relieved. “If everything goes well during the home visit, I’ll mark your record as up to date… that is if you promise not to miss any more of our meetings.”
   “You have my word, Doctor.” Jen pushed the end button on her phone and threw it in the deep end of the pool.
   She still didn’t believe that she was the monster they tried to paint her out to be. How could she be? She loved her parents… she would never hurt them, let alone murder them. But how could she ever get society to understand? Even though she was deemed not guilty by way of insanity, she knew she was still vilified by people. Nobody understood how much she loved her parents and she was just going to have to accept that truth.
   When her mom got sick, she begged her dad to end her pain… but he couldn’t do it. Jen couldn’t stand to see her mom or dad suffer, so when they were sleeping one night, she ended the pain they both felt. Although he didn’t say it, she knew that daddy couldn’t live without her mom, so she sent their souls to heaven together.
   She shook her head as she thought about the events afterward. If only she had kept her mouth shut. The whole thing was circumstantial anyways… there were no bodies. The problem was that she had said too much. When that nosy neighbor, Mrs. Finch, reported that she hadn’t seen her parents for a while and was sure something was wrong, she got nervous and told the police what she had done, and why. The problem was that it’s against the law to end someone’s pain and suffering. When she realized that she could go to prison for simply helping her parents, she refused to give up where the bodies were located… and she certainly couldn’t let them see how many times she had plunged the knife into their bodies. She had gotten carried away. She knew that now, but once she pierced the flesh that first time, she just couldn’t stop. Something took over in her mind. She kept punching and punching and punching that knife into her mom and dad, over and over again, until there were no unscathed areas anywhere on her parent’s bodies. She got scared. Even if she could convince everyone that her mom asked for the pain to stop—after all, her mom was ill, they would never understand why she ended her father’s suffering too. No, they would not accept that she knew he wouldn’t be able to live without her mother. Let them rest in peace, no matter what happened to her.
   She sighed as she looked from where Johnny was laying, over to the freshly dug hole in the middle of the lawn. Daddy was so proud of the yard. She felt that she wanted to honor him by allowing them both to become a part of the lush grounds they both loved so much. The fertilizer was the key. Once the ground had settled and the grass began to grow back, the lawn had never been greener.
   Jen looked at her watch. Dr. Taylor would be arriving in about fifty minutes. She had a dilemma. She needed to finish taking care of Johnny. She had carved out the whole day for this ritual. She wanted to play with Johnny for a while longer before fertilizing the lawn but knew that the doctor would frown upon her planned activity for the day. They already thought she was nuts… no reason to give them any further reason to think she might really be insane. And besides, Dr. Sherry would never believe that she found Johnny already dead in her pool. She would probably be blamed for his death too. She just didn’t need the aggravation.
   She walked back over to the pool and grabbed the corpse rotting on the cement by the legs and dragged him across the patio and up onto the grass.
   She plopped on the ground next to the body. “Well, Johnny,” she pouted, stroking his soft, just washed hair. “I guess this is it. I was hoping we could get to know each other better, but I’ve got company coming, so I have to cut our date short.”
   She gently kissed him on the lips and then rolled Johnny into the shallow grave. She had to hurry and get the dirt back into the hole and place the grass divots back on top of the dirt. Because she was rushing to get everything done, the sweat was dripping down her back causing her shirt to stick to her skin. It was an icky feeling. As soon as she patted the last divot into place, she dropped the shovel on the lawn and ran into the house and jumped into the shower. She had just enough time to wash the dirt and grime off her body before Dr. Sherry arrived.
   When the doorbell rang, Jen called out to her visitor that the door was open. Dr. Sherry stepped into the foyer and was met by her patient.
   “I’ve got some snacks and some lemonade set up out by the pool,” said Jen, trying to be the good little hostess. “Why don’t we talk out there?”
   They walked through the home and out the back door. Dr. Sherry Taylor was immediately struck by the beauty of the surroundings. “This is a beautiful yard,” she said, as she looked around the space. “The pool is gorgeous, a pretty rock garden, a wonderful privacy fence…” Her eyes landed on the lawn. “Wow! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier lawn.”
   “Thank you,” replied Jen. She was nervous and was hoping that the doctor didn’t notice. Her mind was racing. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but she needed to settle down.
   Dr. Sherry started to walk towards the lush green turf. Jen trailed behind her. As they stepped onto the grass, her heart skipped a beat as she realized she had left the shovel lying in the middle of the lawn. She positioned herself between the shovel and Dr. Sherry, hoping she wouldn’t notice.
   “I can’t get over how green this lawn is,” Dr. Sherry said, shaking her head in amazement. “How do you do it? How do you get a lawn like this?” She bent down and rubbed her hand through the grass.
   “The fertilizer is the key,” answered Jen. Her head was swirling with a weird buzzing, numbing sensation and she could feel that she was losing control of her thoughts. She was trying to fight it but was losing. She pressed on trying to mask what was happening to her. “The right fertilizer makes all the difference. I learned that from my daddy.”
   The doctor was still bent down with her back to Jen, fondling the grass between her fingers. “Well, whatever you’re doing, I’d keep doing it… I wouldn’t change a thing.”
   Jen leaned over, picked up the shovel and smiled. “I agree,” she said, as she hoisted it to her shoulder using both hands. No longer fighting the strange numbing feeling running through her head, she tightened her grip and moved closer to Dr. Sherry.
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Saturday, August 4, 2018

ENDS Sunday August 12th
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Sunday 08.05.2018(8am PDT) - Sunday 08.12.2018(12am PDT) 

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