verstraete logo

FLASHSHOT

Daily Genre Flash Fiction

Flashshots are 100-word stories published daily via email. See G.W. Thomas.org. Here are some of my favorites I've had published.

---------------------------------------------

ISSUE 1987 - Published January 25, 2008

SECRETS

By Christine Verstraete

I always get yelled at.

Petey, what did you do?

Petey, did you take it?

Petey, where did it go?

I usually get the blame, but that’s okay. I always help them find what they lose, even if they think I took it.

Like at auntie’s house. They were looking for a painting, a tiny one. I didn’t steal it. Honest. But I know who did.

How?

Easy. I smelled it.

Secrets have a certain scent, you know.

Why are you stepping back?

Wait. Don’t go…

I’m a good dog.

I am.

I wasn’t going to tell anyone.

Promise.

Mischievous Dachshund Petey helps sniff out the crime in my new mystery, Searching For A Starry Night, coming in spring from Quake, a division of Echelon Press. See details at http://cverstraete.com/Starry_Night.html.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ISSUE 1505 - Published January 8, 2007

DINNER TIME

By C. A. Verstraete

"Aww, do I have to?"

"Yes, you need your protein. Herb, tell her."

"Sweetie, don't you want to be big and strong?"

"Yeah, but it's yucky."

"You'll grow to love it."

"I can't. It's ugly. I hate the color."

"Honey, eat or no fair tomorrow. I mean it."

"Mom-m-m."

"No. You'll sit there until you finish everything on that plate!"

Deidre the dragon poked at the small human in front of her. He squealed. She laughed and poked him again. Her mother glared.

Deidre sighed and blasted the human with a fiery breath. Hmm, it didn't taste so bad barbecued.

-----------------------------------------------------------

ISSUE 1479 - Published December 13, 2006

FOR MAMAN

By C. A. Verstraete

Basil heard the names they called him. Idiot. Dummy.

He tried to be a good boy helping his Maman at the farm. Maman's boy, the other boys yelled. What was wrong with that, he wondered?

Finally, the meanest boy caught him at the stream drawing water.

Show you what it means to be an apron hugger, the bully taunted.

At the first punch, something in Basil snapped. A new rage filled him. He fought back.

He strolled home, the bucket containing the boy's heart at his side, a gift for his Maman.

He couldn't wait to see her reaction.

BACK TO TOP