Short stories, Flash fiction, and Novel Excerpts

Posts Tagged ‘Funny’

Unexpected turns

In Uncategorized, Writing on January 2, 2010 at 9:00 pm


“Ma’am, are you okay?”  The strange man who held her asked.

“Wha—?  Who are you?”  Vivian asked, startled.

“It’s alright.  You started to fall and I caught you.  Do you have fainting spells often?”  He asked with quiet concern, still holding her.

“No.  I don’t know what came over me,” she whispered into his chest.

“Do you remember anything?”

“No, wait, yes I do!  He was sitting at that table, with her!”  She shouted, angry for showing them such weakness.

“Ah, do you want to sit down for a moment?”  He asked holding her shoulders.

“No, thank you, but my husband canceled all my accounts.  I have no money to sit at one of these tables,” she said turning away, her fists balled at her sides.

“Well I do.  If you would be so kind, I’d like to buy you lunch,” he replied catching her arm, turning her.

“I’m not sure I should be eating so soon if I fainted,” she said not daring to look him in the eye.

“It’s okay, you’ll be fine,” he reassured her, stoking her arm.

“How do you know?”  She asked demurely.

“Because I’m a Doctor.”

Taking her hand, she let him lead her over to a waiting table.

She fell in love with him all over again.  Her husband played his played part beautifully.  Who would have thought that he would have been willing to play the role of a Doctor seducing a distressed woman?

By:  Ben Pollard



In Writing on December 13, 2009 at 1:35 pm

Jennifer pulled into her father’s driveway after midnight.  Leaving school nine hours ago for spring break, she hoped to surprise her Dad.  She hadn’t seen him in a year.

She let herself in using her key.  Walking down the dim hallway she headed to the kitchen.  Rounding the corner she stopped.  A woman in an over-large shirt and nothing else had beaten her to the fridge.

“Who are you?” Jennifer demanded.

The woman spun around, “Wha–?” she gasped.

An indrawn breath drew Jennifer’s attention.  She caught only a glimpse of ghostly white buttocks.

“Dad?” she asked.

Hearing a door slam galvanized her into action and she ran through the living room toward the back of the house.  A slight rustling brought her to a door, a coat closet.  Yanking the door open, she saw her father wearing an inside-out long winter coat. 

With pounding footsteps the woman ran up to them. 

Demanding simultaneously, “Who is this person?”

“Uhm, Kate, this is my daughter, Jennifer.  Jennifer, this is your, uhm, step-mother, Kate,” Dad explained.

Jennifer slammed the door shut and said, “We need to talk.”

Turning the lock on the doorknob Kate replied, “I think we do.”

By:  Ben Pollard