BEST SERVED COLD

Beneath the decay, he tasted of guilt.

He tasted of stolen cigarettes and late night wine, of chocolate and indulgence. I kissed his mouth again and tasted the love we used to have, gone bitter in death.

The hollow of his chest – where I’d once laid my head – was salty with sweat. I savoured the flavour, couldn’t quite bring myself to recognise that this time would be the last.

Then I kissed his neck and tasted her. The sharp floral tang of another woman’s perfume. The sticky cherry of her lip gloss. I licked his skin again and knew that this sickly, sugary flavour was the taste of infidelity.

I stepped away from the bed and let my eyes do the tasting. His eyes were closed, his naked limbs relaxed, the bed sheets artfully scrunched beneath him. A spatter of blood circled his body like the most delicate of sauces.

She was tied up on the other side of the bed, curled like a shrimp, her sweet young flesh begging to be tasted. I’d gagged her with lemons and left her to marinate for hours.

I picked up my knife, started towards her. When she flinched, my mouth flooded with saliva.

Time for dessert.

* * *

To celebrate National Short Story Month, I’m running the Senseless Challenge throughout May. Each Friday is dedicated to a different sense – the challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction inspired by that sense. May 24th is dedicated to taste.

The Senseless Challenge: Smell Round Up

Senseless ChallengeThe celebrations for National Short Story Month continue with even more #flashsense stories this week.

Missed previous weeks? Check out Sight (May 3rd) and Sound (May 10th).

The third Friday of the month, May 17th, was dedicated to smell.

Here’s a round up of week three’s stories.

* * *

THE SENSELESS CHALLENGE: SMELL

Private Nose by Peggy McFarland
It’s going to rain today, mark my words. I can smell it.

Smell by Christopher Munroe
A month after you quit smoking, you get your sense of smell back.

Sweet by N.M. Martinez
Blanca’s nose burned as if being licked by a little flame.

Mouse by Shelly Proffitt Howells
You are such a mouse, Harold.

StorySkippers Anonymous by Laura Amos
Bars didn’t smell like cigarettes anymore.

Making Sense by Chuck Allen
She loved the smell of being clean.

Bottled Shame by Kelly Stapleton
I smelled Missy before I saw her.

Oh, Nose! by Tim VanSant
There was something rotten in the state of Denmark.

A Great Story by Laura Besley
The only smell in the tiny dark room was her own.

Fumes of Love by Brinda Banerjee
It was dank, reminiscent of the garbage landfill nearby.

The Hunter by A.M. Harte
The air was sweet and cold, moonlight-sharp.

* * *

Did I forget to include your story? Drop me a link in the comments.

This Friday 24th is dedicated to taste – join in and tweet your story with #flashsense!

It’s not too late to get involved – just drop me a comment on the challenge post or tweet your story using #flashsense.

THE HUNTER

It smelled dark.

The air was sweet and cold, moonlight-sharp. The flowers had closed their blooms, their scent gone pale without sunlight.

The hunter slid through the shadows, head tilted, her tongue flickering in and out of her mouth. Great battles had robbed her of both eyes and riddled her fur with scars, but she – the last of her kind – remained the greatest killer of man.

The leaves beneath her paws were damp with decay, their cloying scent all-but masking the sweet earthiness of the insects wriggling in their midst.

She had bigger prey to catch.

There! A gust of stale breath on the air, the sour stench of sweat.

She stopped, lifted her head into the breeze to triangulate her quarry. The trail was faint but as she crept forwards it grew stronger.

Soon she was close. All but masked beneath the richness of deer excrement was the scent of man.

“How much longer do we have to wait?” a boy whispered in the darkness.

She couldn’t hear him, but his stale breath was enough.

“Patience,” a woman replied. Her breath was fainter, laced with mint.

The hunter breathed slowly, mapping the clearing.

“I’m scared, momma,” the boy whispered. “I want to go home.”

“The beast has found our home before. Do you want that to happen again?”

A pause. “No.” The boy barely exhaled as he spoke, and the hunter didn’t smell it.

“We’ll get it, son. We’ll make it pay for what it did.”

“It wouldn’t have done it if we hadn’t–”

The woman raised an arm, sending a wave of deer scent through the air, tinged with fear. The hunter froze.

“It’s coming,” the woman breathed.

The hunter padded through the trees, circling her prey, using the earthiness of tree moss to guide her.

Then, when the scents were right, she stopped. She gathered her legs beneath her, took one last deep sniff, and leaped.

Her jaws collided with a bundle of straw and cloth that smelled human but had none of the salty richness of blood beneath.

The sweet pile of damp leaves that should have softened her fall crumbled beneath her. She fell deep into the earth, past the sweet worms and the musty soil. Upon impact, the scent of blood and fear overtook everything else.

Far above, tainting the fresh air, was the woman. She stood at the edge of the pit, reeking with satisfaction.

“I told you she’d come back for her eyes.”

* * *

To celebrate National Short Story Month, I’m running the Senseless Challenge throughout May. Each Friday is dedicated to a different sense – the challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction inspired by that sense. The third week was dedicated to smell.

The Senseless Challenge: Sound Round Up

Senseless ChallengeThe celebrations for National Short Story Month continue with even more #flashsense stories this week.

Check out the May 3rd round up if you missed any stories about our sense of sight.

The second Friday of the month, May 10th, was dedicated to sound.

Here’s a round up of week two’s stories.

* * *

THE SENSELESS CHALLENGE: SOUND

Beyond The Thin Blue Line by Laura Besley
I wish I could tell my children not to fear death.

Deaf Ears by Peggy McFarland
In a few short hours, Jack should hear again.

Fireworks by The Lord by Deanna Schrayer
Buying a new car has never been louder.

Noise by Chuck Allen
Memories can be loud, too.

Noise by N.M. Martinez
The cheerful daytime music made the hairs in her inner ear quake.

Thub-thub, Thub-thub by Tim VanSant
The underground bunker smelled like a sewer.

Stephanie by Laura Amos
There were other voices in the background.

Antichrist, Interrupted by Kelly Stapleton
The voice has been with me since I was 13.

Silence, Sound by JP West
I’m telling you, Amanda, he’s not the same.

Silenced by Shelly Proffitt Howells
I hear it, faintly, while I’m rinsing the shampoo out of my hair.

Bunty hears a snake by Brinda Banerjee
There it was again, a soft, scraping sound.

Sound By Christopher Munrow
There’s no greater joy than listening to your favorite band.

War On Noise by A.M. Harte
The crackle of gunfire has long since lost its meaning.

* * *

Did I forget to include your story? Drop me a link in the comments.

It’s not too late to get involved – just drop me a comment on the challenge post.

At the end of the month, I’ll be running a poll to pick a winner from the challenge – so keep an eye on this blog or for #flashsense tweets!

WAR ON NOISE

The crackle of gunfire has long since lost its meaning.

The sound now makes the soldier think of other things. Of popcorn and late night cinemas. Of the bubble wrap in Amazon packages. Fire crackers popping on New Year’s Eve. How his girlfriend cracks her knuckles. (Ex-girlfriend? Her last letter hadn’t started with Dear John but the message had been the same.)

But he is far from home and the memories of his childhood sounds are fading. Soon the sounds of war will be all he has left.

The soldier stretches his neck, rolls his shoulders. Every joint pops. His heartbeat throbs in his eardrums, a personal timepiece.

Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

The ditch he’s lying in amplifies his fellow soldiers. The new guy sniffling at seven second intervals. The fidgeter who toys with the safety on his gun. Their collective shallow breaths. It’s hide-and-seek all over again, that loud waiting silence he remembers from lazy summer days.

He cannot hear their heartbeats but he knows they’re all the same.

Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

Today marks his ninth month at war.

(Nine months: a gestation of trauma. If this is what it’s like being in the womb no one should have children.)

Nine months of screams, explosions, the snip-snip of the doctor’s scissors. Nine months of his friends’ heavy, shuddering last breaths. He hasn’t been able to make that sound lose its meaning; nothing in his memories compares.

He’s the last one left.

Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

In all this war has come to have its own symphony for him.

The percussion of footsteps. The xylophone of zips. The tinkle of loose buckles. The deep bass of rolling tanks. If he closes his eyes, he can almost remember the quiet creak of his dad’s rocking chair as classical music rumbles from the record player.

But he cannot remember the sound of a woman’s voice. Of her voice. No matter how many times he rereads that last letter, the only voice he hears is his own.

“GO GO GO!”

He obeys without thinking, leaping out of the ditch and towards the enemy line.

The roar of adrenaline consumes him. For a blissful moment he finally hears her calling his name.

Then the thunder of an ear-bleeding explosion, rippling through the air. A high-pitched hum dizzies him. The ground rushes upwards.

Then silence.

* * *

To celebrate National Short Story Month, I’m running the Senseless Challenge throughout May. Each Friday is dedicated to a different sense – the challenge is to write a story inspired by that sense. The second week is dedicated to sound.

The Senseless Challenge: Sight Round Up

Senseless ChallengeI must admit I was a little nervous that no one would join me in my senseless idea… but I’m so pleased that I am not the only one out there wanting to celebrate National Short Story Month!

The first Friday of the month, May 3rd, was dedicated to our sense of sight.

Here’s a round up of week one’s stories.

* * *

THE SENSELESS CHALLENGE: SIGHT

Amber’s Unseeable Eyes by Laura Besley
A young girl can see what others cannot.

Eye Contact by Peggy McFarland
“A watery blue tear bounced off her cheek, rolled onto the floor board and disappeared into a crack.”

Vision by Christopher Munroe
The pros of the graveyard shift.

Gold by N.M. Martinez
All that glitters is not gold…

Fun Is Not Blind by Kelly Stapleton
Would you go dancing in the dark?

Rita by Laura Amos
“How was it possible a person could exist in this world for nineteen years and leave behind so few imprints?”

Eye Spy by Tim VanSant
Size matters.

Aura of Gold by Brinda Banerjee
A kitchen maid has eyes like none other.

Sight by JP West
To see is to know.

Sights Unseen by Shelli Proffitt Howells
Can you see the truth behind the words?

City of Ghosts by A.M. Harte
London is slowly turning into a city of ghosts.

* * *

Did I forget to include your story? Drop me a link in the comments.

It’s not too late to get involved – just drop me a comment on the challenge post.

At the end of the month, I’ll be running a poll to pick a winner from the challenge – so keep an eye on this blog or for #flashsense tweets!

CITY OF GHOSTS

From a distance it looks like he’s yawning.

The road where the man is kneeling is blocked with abandoned cars. From my vantage point on the second floor of a Cafe Nero’s all I can see is his profile, his open mouth and dark hair, the lurid green of his coat.

The yawn has lasted too long. I squint and realise it’s a scream.

I break off a nail-sized bite of bread from the last sandwich I have left and squeeze it paper-thin. I place it in my mouth, then take a glass of water and tilt it against my lips until it is empty. I rub my throat, hoping the bread goes down the right way.

I glance outside. The man is still kneeling in the road.

It’s been weeks since I’ve seen another person. Curiosity gets the better of me.

Going down stairs isn’t easy. I crane my neck to watch my feet, place my hand on the handrail. The sight of it reassures me. My hand still looks young, strong. Still looks like my hand, although it’s long since stopped feeling.

I walk across the ground floor of the coffee shop and lean against the front door until it opens. The man is still kneeling in the middle of the road, his head bowed, defeated. It’s a grey summer’s day and the sky is heavy with rain clouds, but the air in London has never been clearer. There’s no one left to pollute anymore.

The wind pushes my hair into my eyes as I zigzag through the abandoned cars. Most of them still have keys in their ignition, doors left ajar. London has become a city of forgotten things. We are all ghosts, fading slowly away.

The man has already lost his hearing. He doesn’t notice when my hand knocks against a car door even though my knuckles are now bleeding – it must have made a sound.

I walk closer, until he notices me and freezes, his shoulders tensed, nostrils quivering.

For a moment we stand there, staring at each other.

When he mouths words at me but they’re impossible to read. Another language.

There’s a pair of car keys by his feet but he cannot curl his fingers around them. He straightens, slowly. His hands hang uselessly by his sides, forgotten, like plants left out in the sun. Tears trail down his cheeks as he lifts an arm towards me.

It’s just your hands, I want to say. Wait until your feet go. You’ll have to learn to walk all over again.

* * *

To celebrate National Short Story Month, I’m running the Senseless Challenge throughout May. Each Friday is dedicated to a different sense – the challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction inspired by that sense.
This first week is dedicated to sight. I had a hard time resisting the temptation to describe temperature (hot, cold, etc).

The Senseless Challenge: Prizes!

Senseless Challenge If you haven’t signed up for the Senseless Writing Challenge yet, you should now.

Because now, there are PRIZES!

At the end of May, I’ll be polling readers on which challenge story was their favourite.

The author of the winning story will win a print copy of Hungry For You, PLUS three 1889 Labs ebooks which celebrate short(er) stories: Bears, Recycling & Confusing Time Paradoxes, Kidney Disease Gave Me Heart Failure, and MERGE.

The runner-up will receive the 3 above mentioned ebooks.

Each author can enter a maximum of 5 stories into the challenge – one for each sense.

Obviously, since I’m running the show, I won’t take part in the poll. :-)

What are you waiting for? Head over to the Senseless Writing Challenge intro post and sign up now!

Join The SENSELESS Writing Challenge!

Senseless ChallengeCalling all short story lovers!

May is National Short Story Month – and therefore the perfect time for an absolutely senseless idea.

Let me explain:

Short stories have a special place in my heart. They’ve helped me dabble with countless ideas, overcome writer inertia, and introduced me to communities like #fridayflash. Most importantly, they’ve helped me hone my craft by focusing on different techniques one at a time… And this where the senseless challenge comes into play.

THE SENSELESS CHALLENGE: THE FACTS

  1. We have five senses.
  2. May has five Fridays.
  3. Each Friday is dedicated to one of the senses.
  4. On that Friday, you post a flash fiction focusing on that sense.
  5. If you have twitter, tweet about your story with the hashtag #flashsense

Take sight. The story for that week could be about a ghost who can only see, but not hear or feel or smell or taste. On the other end of the scale, it could be about a blind man – and how he sees without seeing.

The aim of the challenge is to become more aware of how you use senses to convey description – and hopefully have fun too!

The schedule is:

There are no rules. You can take part for one week or all five. You can write about not having that week’s sense or only having it.

I’ll do weekly round ups so we can all enjoy each others’ stories.

PRIZES

At the end of May, I’m going to poll readers on which challenge story was their favourite (excluding my own, of course!).

The author of the winning story will win a print copy of Hungry For You, PLUS three 1889 Labs ebooks: Bears, Recycling & Confusing Time Paradoxes, Kidney Disease Gave Me Heart Failure, and MERGE.

The runner-up will receive the above mentioned ebooks.

Each author can enter a maximum of 5 stories into the challenge – one for each sense. Winners will be announced on June 10th.

PARTICIPANTS

  1. A.M. Harte
  2. Nathan Payne
  3. Laura Besley
  4. N.M. Martinez
  5. Laura Amos
  6. Kiri
  7. Joseph
  8. Brinda Banerjee
  9. Peggy McFarland
  10. Christopher Munroe
  11. Kelly Stapleton
  12. Tim VanSant
  13. JP West
  14. Shelli Proffitt Howells
  15. Deanna Schrayer
  16. Chuck Allen

Want to join my senseless challenge?

Leave a comment on this post linking to your blog.