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FFM 2015

A Saga of CerealLet us sing of Albert Braithwaite and his quest! His voyage to the supermarket! His mission to buy cornflakes!
And so he approached the supermarket and gained entrance.
Everywhere there were temptations that sang to him. But his wisdom was strong. Do not look directly at the showy sirens who would take your gold. Rather look down towards the own brand items. For they are better value.
He travelled on.
In his path were clusters of creatures with tongues to talk, but neither eyes nor ears to perceive him. His many requests of “Excuse me, please. I’d quite like to get through” went unheeded.
Temporarily defeated, he retreated and found another way through the maze.
But the glamour was becoming stronger. He felt his reason starting to leave him. Taking shelter by the cheese and onion crisps, he produced pen and ink and captured the words as they floated from his mind.
And lo! Albert strode forward, looking neither to the left or right, but keeping his path straight and tr
Tip of My TongueAlison had been wrong in thinking she wouldn’t know anyone at the party. She was barely through the door when she spotted an old school acquaintance, someone she hadn’t seen in over twenty years.
She gave him an enthusiastic wave. The man looked at her in bemusement and Alison hurried across.
She came to a dead stop. What the heck was the bloke’s name? She frowned. Probably best to try and dig it out before going any further or this could get embarrassing.
Alison gestured vaguely at the stairs. “I’m just going to…”
The man nodded, looking even more bewildered, and Alison scampered away.
She shot up the stairs, found an empty bedroom, climbed out the window and down a drainpipe, and then sprinted off in the direction of the Misplaced Vocabulary Office.
The attendant frowned at her as she dashed in. “I’m just about to close up, you know.”
Alison put her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
A Snowflake's Chance“I’m special!” declared Cedric Snowflake, staring proudly into the mirror. “I’m unique! There’s no-one else quite like me.”
“Well, yeah,” said Angharad Snowflake. “But we’re all unique, so you can’t really describe yourself as special.”
Cedric turned to glare at his sister. “Then I shall move somewhere where I will be completely unique.”
“Like where?” said Angharad.
Cedric resumed admiring his reflection. “I shall move to Hell!”
“Hell?” Angharad snorted. “You don’t stand a snowball’s chance there.”
But Cedric’s mind was made up. He made himself a refrigeration unit on wheels, travelled to the underworld and set about finding a job.
The Prince of Darkness looked up from studying Cedric’s CV, and drummed his claws on the table.
“You know,” he said, gazing down at Cedric in his refrigeration unit,
A Slice of LifeIt was almost perfect.
Sitting at the kitchen table, Mabel stared at the little cake and sighed. It was the third version of her latest prototype and, while undeniably delicious, it still lacked that certain something.
She picked up her cup of tea and sipped at it, mulling over the possibilities. Ironically, the problem was that she was now so successful. Everyone was waiting to see her produce something even more fantastic than before.
Mabel ran over her cakes in her head. There had been the Witty Walnut Cake, which indulged in repartee as you sliced it up; the Yule Log, which you could set fire to without melting the chocolate; and her biggest seller, the cross between a fairy cake and a birthday cake—a cake that would actually grant wishes once you’d blown the candles out. All of these had taken many tries to get right but it had been worth it in the end.
Of course, there’d been failures too. Mabel glanced over at the Saucy Stollen she’d developed for hen par
The Magpie Finds Some FriendsThe magpie was lonely
His friends were away.
So he asked all the ravens
“Do you want to play?”
The ravens said to him, “Please sling your hook
We know a lone magpie will bring us bad luck.”
The poor lonely magpie.
He felt like a fool.
So he did sling his hook
And went down to the pool.
“Is there no-one,” said Magpie.
“To grant my small wish?”
“Is there no-one who’s friendly?”
“There is!” cried a fish.
And he pranced and he danced
In a one fish parade.
And the magpie was soaked
In a freshwater cascade.
But stepping away from his new chum the fish,
He unfortunately felt a quite worrying squish.
He moved his big feet
To somewhere more firm.
“Thank you most kindly,”
said a flattened out worm.
“Hurrah! Hurrah!” said the magpie:
“A bird and a fish,
That’s Two for Joy.
Now it’s Three for a Girl
Or perhaps you’re a boy?”
“I’m a hermaphrodite,” st
Haring OffThe Tortoise and the Hare were about to leave for a holiday to celebrate their wedding anniversary.
“Five years together…” said the Tortoise, putting a pair of sunglasses into his case. “I just can’t believe it.”
The Hare sped past with a checklist.
“What I can’t believe is that you’re still packing!”
He disappeared again.
The Tortoise added a couple of paperbacks to his case and the Hare reappeared, dashing from the opposite direction.
The Tortoise chuckled. “Don’t get yourself so wound up. There’s no use rushing these things…”
“Check in is in two and a half hours.” The Hare galloped upstairs.
The Tortoise stared at the contents of the case, rearranged them slightly, stared a bit more and then put everything back as it was.
The Hare came thundering down carrying several heavy bags. He glared at the Tortoise.
“Aren’t you done yet?”
The Tortoise turned to look a
Plattery Will Get You NowhereMr. and Mrs. Bartle had enjoyed their day out at the Great Exhibition.
They had admired the phonograph that could store an incredible twelve wax cylinders and play them in any order; they had seen the amazing hydraulic hand (which had a slightly unfortunate range of gestures); and they had even made a purchase—a vessel that was kettle, pot and cup combined, and sold already filled to the brim with steaming tea.
And now to finish the day off, they were watching a charming gentleman in one of the booths demonstrating a serving platter.
“ you see, you wind it up here—” The gentleman placed the platter flat on a table and rotated a handle. “—and then put this lever to ‘on’…”
The platter vibrated into life.
“Now you just have to enter your instructions.” The gentleman indicated the keyboard on the side of the platter. “For example…” His fingers clattered over the keys and there was a ping. The gen
A Journey From A - ZThe meeting between the dictionary’s owner and the words’ representatives, ‘spaceman’ and ‘codpiece’ was not going well.
“You’ve got to understand,” said the owner. “Nobody uses paper dictionaries any more. I can look up everything online.”
“But this is our home!” said spaceman.
“And you can’t just cast us out into Outer Space!” said codpiece. “Where will we go?”
The owner shrugged. “I don’t care. I’ve sold the dictionary to a recycling company and you’ve got 24 hours to vacate the pages.”
All the words were packing up their definitions and getting ready to leave.
“It’s for the best really,” said spaceman, as it folded its definition. “We should have made the move to Online ourselves ages ago. We’ll find a nice little prefabricated website and add our own touches. It’ll be fine.”
“If you say so…
A selection from my pieces for FFM 2015.
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Literature Favourites

The Inevitable“I think you know why I’m here.”
    The merchant stared at the figure in his doorway. In a way, he’d been expecting this visit for many years. However, it was not exactly as he had anticipated. “Shouldn’t you be speaking in all caps or something?” he asked.
    The robed skeleton stared blankly at him. “Meh,” it shrugged. “It’s been done.”
    “It’s just that caps would be a lot easier to...”
    “Silence, mortal,” interjected Death, very quietly. “I have come to claim what you owe. It is...inevitable.”
    The merchant shrank back into his hallway as the skeleton stepped inside, the lamps on the wall flickering at its approach. Death drew closer, closer, then paused to peer into the study to its left.
    “Is this where you keep your receipts?
An Enid Blyton Tribute in Under 1,000 Words1: A New Term
There were three new girls waiting for the school train.
'I say, Ally,' said Coral, looking at a pretty girl with golden curls.  'She looks frightfully vain and spoilt.  I hope she won't be in Dorset House with us!'
'She looks like fun, though,' said Ally, seeing a girl with short hair and freckles.  'Mischievous, but a good sport.  Oh, she's coming over here.'
'Hello,' said the short-haired girl, with a boyish grin.  'I'm Tony.'
'What a queer name for a girl,' said Coral.
'Well,' said Tony, 'my real name is Antoinette, but I hate it.  Oh, here's Prissy.'
'Hello,' said the golden-haired girl.  'We've got three cars.'
'Snob,' said Coral, turning her back to the Prissy.  'What about the other new girl?  Do you know her name?'
'She's called Lily,' said Tony.
'Funny looking girl,' said Ally, staring in astonishment at Lily's body piercings and dyed black hair.  'She'd better not give us any cheek, or she'll be sat on!'
FFM Day 29- What's Left BehindIn a dim parlor, the men sat in clusters, some chatting with ghosts, others staring mutely. Men muttered and cried, gritting teeth in agony- they reached for limbs that weren’t there anymore.
Someone slammed a door, distant, but cacophonous. Someone coughed, loud as a landslide. Charles flinched. His eyes flitted from body to body, looking for a distraction. The room was stifling, smelling of old blood and myriad maladies.
A boy across from Charles whispered to himself, eyes vacant, face cheerful. In a voice like bullets, sharp and quick, “I’m gonna drop it, I’m a coward, don’t let me drop it, just please take it away from me.”
Charles saw what the nurses and doctors couldn’t, but it never passed his lips. The sunlight spilled across the floor in gashes, rending the boards, blood swirling in the grain of the wood.
The men weren’t trapped in their heads; they were falling out of them. Their skulls were cracked open, many literally. They sw
FFM 2015 19: Pastel CobblestonesShe was on a morning ride away from her village when a white cat darting across the path forced her to twist the handlebars of her bike to a sharp left. She juddered down a narrow flight of steps and almost collided with a mailbox.
As she righted her bike, she saw stretched before her a cobbled street lined with shops. Where was she? She’d never seen this place before, and though she didn’t know it then, she would never see this place again. Perhaps she ought to have known this, that magic places often change address.
She ambled down the street, the bike she wheeled beside her going thump-thump-thump on the cobblestones, which were in faded pastels like children’s multivitamins. The shops displayed novelties—vintage cameras the size of a thumbnail, fairy lights that changed color according to one’s mood, water scooped up and bottled from different oceans. Most of the ocean names were unfamiliar to her.
She bought a pair of round-frame sunglasses. As she st
Fav This TweetLady of the Æsir said:
you there
WolfSister said:
what up frigg
Lady of the Æsir said:
uh not much
just um
can I have my son back pls
you know
everyone loves him and misses him
*I* love and miss him
and it sucks that he's dead
WolfSister said:
Lady of the Æsir said:
srsly though it shouldn't even have happened
I mean like
p sure loki was just being a dick
like usual
basically anytime anything goes wrong it's just loki being a dick
WolfSister said:
hey now
thats my dad
Lady of the Æsir said:
can I have baldr back pls, he's p much my fav son
and I went to all that trouble to make him not die
soooo I would really appreciate it if you'd help me out
you know
queen to queen
sort of thing
WolfSister said:
look the thing is
you know how everyone loves your son?
Lady of the Æsir said:
WolfSister said:
well see the thing is
I like him too
he serious
Fight the UnfightableSummoned from its eldritch sea, the Hydra reared its heads, unfurling, silhouetted against the moon. The first head approached with a vicious twinkle in its yellow eye, its needle teeth bared in a deadly grin. Moist acid breath stung my eyes like ethanol.
“Tell me a ssstory,” it hissed.
I swallowed. “Once upon a time-”
“A sstory about a barbarian. And forgiveness. And a carrot.”
“Once upon a time there was an orcish barbarian called Raknar. A legend in his own time, the tales of his exploits are many, but this one is perhaps the greatest of all. Raknar journeyed the length and breadth of fiction, and no foe could offer him a sufficient challenge. Ennui set in, but as he travelled, he heard tales of one place all monsters feared to tread. One day he found himself at its gates, and it was anticipation, not fear that filled his heart. This was where the greatest monster of all dwelt. This was his ultimate quarry. Dauntless in the face of certain d

Mature Content

FFM15 - 23: What Lies in the IceLOG ENTRY 7
A week in the mines and I finally feel I am getting the hang of this. This world could not be more unlike home. And yet, this mine is so much like any other, it is easy to believe at times that I have never left.
The days of tunnelling paid off. We hit a deposit of methane ice that will probably be worth millions on the interstellar market. We’re having a party down in the mess tonight.
I think Aran drank too much last night. He started telling everyone today that he went back to his dorm and there was two of everything. Poor guy. I tried to tell him that’s what happens when you let people poor liquor down your throat with a funnel, but he’s adamant about what he saw. Said it freaked him out so much he couldn’t stay in the room. I went and had a look this morning but everything was normal. Told him to sleep it off in my dorm.
We hit another repository in the ice today. This frozen lake is more like a frozen ocean.
A selection from my favourites.
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Flash Fiction

The Big Hand's on Twelve12:00 AM
They met at the stroke of midnight: the Big Hand and the Little Hand were both on 12.
“Big Hand,” said the Little Hand, nervously. “We’ve spent a lot of time together.”
“Yes, indeed,” smiled the Big Hand. “A lot of time.”
The Little Hand swallowed hard. “And… well, during that time, I’ve become very fond of you.” It produced a diamond ring. “Big Hand… would you accept this Little Hand in marriage?”
There was a pause.
“Um,” said the Big Hand.
“‘Um’?” said the Little Hand.
“It’s just…” The Big Hand blushed. “I know we were going steady together but… I’ve got something going now with the Second Hand.”
The Little Hand looked dazed. “The Second Hand..?”
The Second Hand zoomed past.
“Hi, sweetheart!” called back the Big Hand. It saw the expr
The QuestShe hopped from one foot to the other, jogged on the spot and finished the routine by bouncing up and down. The Quest could be put off no longer. It was time to go and face the Machine-Beast.
This was not the monster’s true name, obviously. No-one knew that, though it did go by many titles:
Johns. Jakes.
“Mummy,” said the Quester. “I have to go.”
“Right,” said Mummy, trying to get poster paint out of the tablecloth.
“Would you..?” The Quester hesitated. “Would you come with me?”
Mummy looked up from her task and gazed at the Quester.
“Some things you just have to do on your own now,” she said.
Of course.
Of course.
The Quester began her ascent. The stairs were steep but they were no longer frightening. She had traversed this territory so many times. At the top, she stopped and stared down the path she was obliged to take. The monster’s lair was dark, the door slightly ajar. The Que
Punctured“Car,” said the bicycle, “we need to talk.”
“Oh, Assembly-Robot. Oh, exhaust. It’s one of those talks, isn’t it?” said the car. “About our relationship.”
“Yes. The thing is…” The bicycle hesitated. “I think we both just need a bit more space.”
“Oh.” The car looked around the garage. “It does need a bit of a clear-out. They could get rid of that old TV for a start…”
“No. No,” said the bicycle. “I’m talking about emotional space.” It sighed. “We both knew this was coming. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a lot of fun. I really enjoy it when I’m strapped to your rack—”
“Will you keep your voice down,” said the car.
“—but anyone can see how well you’ve been getting along with the new moped. And sometimes… Sometimes I just feel like a third wheel.”
The car
Delta, Alpha, November, Charlie, EchoThe annual work do was in full swing, the dance floor full of members of the Phonetic Alphabet having a good time.
As R-E-S-P-E-C-T played, India, Quebec and Zulu discussed culture and geography. Romeo had given Juliet the slip and was attempting to chat up X-Ray, who was looking straight through him. Whiskey was moving from group to group, smiling and chatting. But then people often found her soothing in social situations.
And away from the dancing, Charlie and his best friend Mike had found a table and were sitting catching their breath.
Charlie gazed out onto the floor, grinning. “Is that Tango and Foxtrot trying to dance together?”
“Crikey, it is.” Mike winced. “You can tell that’s not going to end well.”
Juliet drifted past them, looking from side to side and weeping. “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo..?”
“He’s over there!” interrupted Charlie, pointing at the philandering husband.
Mike raised his eyebr
Bah“Did you hear about The Lamb?” said the lettuce. “Struck again last night. A mangold got munched.”
The aconitum’s flowers quivered. “Horrible. But let’s discuss something happier. How are the auditions going?”
The lettuce shrugged. “A salad’s coming up I’d like to be picked for.”
“Well, they’d be fools not to choose you,” said the aconitum. “You look so crisp. So tender…”
The lettuce stared at the distinctly herbivorous expression. “Oh, thistles. You’re The Lamb, aren’t you?”
“‘Fraid so.”
The Lamb threw off its disguise.
The lettuce wilted.
And the moral of the story is: beware sheep in wolfsbane clothing.
The EquationThe cast had gathered together to witness the unveiling of the poster for:
X = 8 + 7
“Well, that’s unfair!” said +. “X is a complete unknown—it shouldn’t be getting higher billing than the rest of us!” + appeared a little cross. “You know, I’m considering walking out of this equation!”
The producer sighed. “Look, I think I know the solution: X, will you reveal your true identity, please?”
X whipped off its cloak and⸺
“You’re 15!” said +, trying to curtsey and bow simultaneously. “I’m a huge fan.”
“God, you’re such a snob,” muttered 8. It beamed over at the performer previously labelled ‘X’. “Just wanted to let you know, 15. Me and 7 always considered you our equal.”
WordsThe meeting of the support group was taking place in the Dusty Dictionary—a refuge from the world for the archaic and lesser-used words in the English Language.
“Who would like to start?” asked the group leader, poltroon. “Ruth, perhaps?”
The word quivered a little. “My name is ruth, and I’m an archaic word….” It gave a sob. “I’m so sorry…”
“Take your time,” said poltroon.
“It’s just so hard!” said ruth. “I haven’t worked in years, and I’m not sure I ever will again. But ruthless is constantly being employed. It doesn’t make any sense. How can people have ruthless without needing ruth?”
Dandled nodded sympathetically. “I rarely get any gigs nowadays myself. But when I do, I turn up and find dangled has pinched the job. ‘He dangled the baby on his knee.’ What the hell does that even mean? Sounds bloody dangerous to me.”
I've Really Lost My MindThe young man smiled, with just a touch of embarrassment. “I seem to have lost my mind.”
The female attendant looked at him. “This is a railway ticket office.”
“You want the lost property section over there.” She pointed at a counter where a severe-looking man was rearranging misplaced umbrellas.
“Thank you!” The young man nodded politely and headed across to the other section.
The lost property attendant looked up as the young man approached. “Is it an umbrella you want?” He indicated the display.
The young man appeared to be tempted for a moment by a purple one decorated with cats and dogs, but then apparently remembered why he was there.
“No,” he said. “I’ve lost my mind. I’m pretty sure here was the last time I used it—I was trying to work out what would be the cheapest ticket to Inverness on a weekday in June, outside peak hours, travelling with my back to the engin
A selection from my flash fiction.
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Lit Tag by copper9lives

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A selection from my favourites.
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SCFrankles's Profile Picture
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United Kingdom
Profile picture made at

The Lord gathered all the writers and divided them into four groups.

To the first group He said, “You will be novelists and you will make a living from your work.”

To the second group He said, “You will be poets and people will admire and be moved by your work.”

To the third group He said, “You will write short stories and people will enjoy your work.”

And to the final group He said, “You will write flash fiction and… Yes, well, sorry about that.”

My name is Frankles. I'm a writer specialising in flash fiction.

(When I get called home, there are going to be words.)


Unless a man is in part a humorist, he is only in part a man.
GK Chesterton

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Add a Comment:
vigour-mortis Featured By Owner Nov 12, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Welcome to FlashFictionLives! We are happy to have you!
SCFrankles Featured By Owner Nov 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you very much! ^^ It's lovely to see the group revitalised. 
Magical525 Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2015  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Thank you for adding me to your watch list :love:
SCFrankles Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
You're most welcome ^^ Your work is beautiful. 
Magical525 Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2015  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Aww thanks :heart:
Bludragon123 Featured By Owner Oct 21, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks for the llama :)
SCFrankles Featured By Owner Oct 22, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome ^^ Thank you for faving my SWS ^^ 
Spiritofdarkness Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2015
:hug: thanks for the :+fav: :iconballoonplz:
SCFrankles Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
You're most welcome - it's a lovely image ^^ 
hopeburnsblue Featured By Owner Aug 31, 2015  Professional Writer
This. Do it. It has Frankles written all over it.…
SCFrankles Featured By Owner Sep 1, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
You know, I think I might have a go :lmao:

Thank you for bringing it to my attention. That's very kind :D 
hopeburnsblue Featured By Owner Sep 1, 2015  Professional Writer
YAAAAASS! I wanna see what you enter!
Plaugh Featured By Owner Aug 23, 2015
Many thanks for the :+fav: :D
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