Friday Flash Fiction: Trust

24 07 2009

This post has now moved to: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/trust/. The precis follows:

A bit of fun this week, qualifying for my new criteria for Friday Flash on the grounds it’s damn near impossible to sell this type of story due to the over-used nature of the sub-genre. Candy floss fiction. Black, naturally.

Trust
By Neil Beynon

As long as he lived he could never forget the smell of the street that night, the stench of piss wrapping itself around the diesel of the passing cars as they zipped past. He gripped the knife in his hand tight, his gut twisting like a caged cat and glanced around for a more substantial weapon. In the mouth of the alley Ceridwen stood unmoving. She blocked the path to the street.

“Why do you raise your knife?”

…Continue reading here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/trust/





Friday Flash Fiction: Endings

3 07 2009

This post has now moved. You can view it here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/endings/. The precis follows:

There’s flash this week largely because I wanted to write something new but I wanted a warm up before I started. It is likely that F3 posting will continue to be a bit irregular as I need to start trying to write stuff that I have a chance of getting published elsewhere and so I’m planning to focus F3 more on story forms that only really work on the internet

This will by its nature mean that I have to be more selective about ideas and that will, in turn, take longer.

I’ll experiment to see what a likely frequency is and then let you know. For now here’s this weeks:

Endings
By Neil Beynon

I can tell their story just as easy as looking at them. Always can.

There is the woman leaning against the wall as if listening for something, only she isn’t listening. Not any more. Her purse has spilled open on the paving stones, a big chunky black Mercedes key, a mobile phone, and a note – a shopping list – flapping between her fingers in the breeze. A time written in biro on the back of her hand bearing the legend KIDS…

You can read the rest of the post here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/endings/.





Friday Flash Fiction: Between the Breakers

29 05 2009

This post has now moved. You can read it here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/between-the-breakers/.

Between the breakers
By Neil Beynon

He wobbles across the uneven rocks, scattered like broken teeth across the beach, until he reaches the smooth compressed sand beyond. He pauses for a moment, turns to look back at the cliffs behind him. If he is looking for something he does not find it on those rocky peaks looming large.

The tide is out and it takes him a little while to reach the edge of the ocean. He walks between the twin rows of breakers that line either side of his path like watery sentinels. He does not pause as he steps into the water, heedless of the cold saltwater on his shoes and trousers: it is not the first time he has done this. He wades out further into the water, ignoring the persistent slapping of the waves that almost push him back and his breath coming in short sharp breaths…

Read the rest of the post here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/between-the-breakers/.





Sunday Flash Fiction

19 04 2009

OK, I’m a bit late this week. 🙂

I had planned to post something on Friday but my planned quiet time before work, during lunch and pre-driving back to Wales never really happened. However, I really wanted to get some content up leading to a rash promise to deliver at some point this weekend.

I have taken the page title I have to use in order to get some of my Google tools to work and created a story from the totally incomprehensible gobbledygook it uses as a page title. As a writing exercise it wasn’t completely successful as it reads more like a fragment of something bigger but I still like sections of it and think it’s a vast improvement on the blank page that it replaces.

You can read it here: GOOGLED24C36E6D230D48D.





Friday Flash Fiction: Buck

10 04 2009

This post has moved. You can read it here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/buck/.

This week’s flash fiction. Feedback, as ever, is welcome.

Buck
By Neil Beynon

It feels like I’ve been on the run forever. In reality it’s only been a few days and already I’m tired of it. The city is almost disserted, many of the shops are boarded up and construction works lie abandoned as if someone started operating on the city, trying to save it, and then gave up. The wind carries dust on it and whips round the corners of buildings that don’t look like they’ve been cleaned since they were built in the nineteen hundreds. This city bites. I raise my collar and start out across the square towards the hotel.

I can still taste the sugar from that too sweet soda. One more than I should have had and so thick with syrup that I could practically chew it, my heart is racing a little from the E numbers, my mouth covered in a light moss of acidity. Perhaps that is why I feel like the few people I encounter are staring at me, that they know what I am and why I am running. But how could they?…

This post has moved. You can read it here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/buck/.





Friday Flash Fiction: Still Rising

27 03 2009

This post has now moved. You can read it here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/still-rising .

Due to Internet fail I am posting this using the equivalent of smoke signals. It may look a mess.

Still Rising
By Neil Beynon

“Where are you going?”

Fahl stopped at the foot of the stairs, turning to the speaker with the creak of age as old as the tower he intended to walk up. It was Lumin staring defiantly back at him, his robes freshly pressed and his bright blue eyes gleaming in the torch light. Fahl sighed and leant on the rail that lined the stairs, in his other hand a long stone knife gleamed.

“Where are you going?” repeated Lumin.

“To do what must be done.”

“The city is no longer under siege Fahl.”

…You can read the full story here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/still-rising





Friday Flash Fiction: Tongue

20 02 2009

This post has now moved. You can read tongue here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/tongue

Tongue
By Neil Beynon

“What is it?” you ask.

I say nothing.

You look up from your knees where you’ve dropped down to check why I have not moved. Your hair falls across your face, you push it back behind your ear with two fingers whose ghosts I feel on my neck and the brief glimpse of the sun through your window points out freckles I never noticed before. The room is musty still with the scent of the night before and I wish you’d opened the window while I was gone. You seem made of glass as the growing quiet between us knocks you on your arse.

…You can read all of tongue here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/tongue