Flash Fiction Friday 2022 – Week 33
Flash Fiction Friday continues in 2022. New pieces appear every Friday on my Patreon throughout the year. The minimum pledge to read them before anyone else is $3 per month. Find out what they’re all about and read some excerpts from the latest update in this post.
Excerpts
Christmas Present
Daniel Walters opened his eyes to find himself in an unknown apartment, locked inside a tight steel cage where he could hardly move. It was the morning before Christmas and the last thing he recalled was leaving the warehouse before the end of his shift to look for some last-minute presents. Everything beyond that was a blur, a gigantic black hole that devoured everything he knew.
A blonde woman in her late twenties stood by an eight feet tall Christmas tree, decorated with sparkling ribbons, teardrop-shaped glass ornaments, and all sorts of other baubles. She was wearing a white corset with a ribbon covering a plunging cleavage, and opaque stockings of the same color. Her attire was meant to evoke purity, but he had no trouble seeing past the ruse. He was staring at a predator and the predator was staring back.
“Ah, good morning,” she purred. “I was wondering when you’d finally wake up. That’s on me, sorry. I still haven’t figured out the correct dosage for these situations.
(…)
Curious
Heidi’s hands glowed blue as she held on to the leather-bound tome she had unearthed from Denise’s wardrobe. It was as if her very life essence was being drained from her, each second bringing her closer to her inevitable demise.
“What’s happening to me?” she asked, looking desperately into her roommates’ purple orbs. Denise leaned against the edge of her bunk bed and replied,
“What do you think is happening, Heidi?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking. I can’t let go of this damn thing! Why?”
“Most grimoires don’t take it too lightly when non-magical creatures get a hold of them and mine is no exception. You really shouldn’t mess with things you don’t understand.”
“Grimoire?” Heidi shook her head in disbelief. “So, it’s true! You really are a…”
(…)
Free Will is a Waste
Elianna was the perfect woman. She had long jet-black hair, lime green eyes, heart-shaped lips, and a smile so intense it could raise the temperature in a room by ten degrees or more. Dressed in skin-tight red leather from red to toe, exception made for a pair of knee-high dark brown boots and a matching belt around her curvaceous waist, she didn’t have to try hard – if at all! – to get everyone around her focused on tending to her needs to detriment of their own. She only had one problem. She wasn’t real.
The lovely Elianna was a cyborg, born from the genius mind of Timothy West, an early thirties robotics engineer who had conducted his first experiments in the field in his mother’s basement while all his high school friends were busy playing video games. From the moment he first envisioned her, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, but the technology required either didn’t exist or was still in its early stages. Only after sixteen years of hard work and tears had he achieved the impossible.
Besides being the very definition of sexiness, Timothy’s creation was quite intelligent. Her artificial brain was designed to mimic his own, and her problem-solving skills had only grown more creative and complex since her inception date.
(…)
She Sits Quietly…
She sits quietly on a little stone bench by the sea, a half-open book resting on her lap, and the summer afternoon sun kissing her honey-golden hair. No one knows what’s on her mind, not even her, for the world is filled with small distractions, all of them competing for a sliver of her attention. A gentle breeze plays with her flowered dress and massages her curly toes. If this isn’t Heaven, then no one knows what it is.
She sits quietly on a little stone bench by the sea, one hand brushing her forehead while the other fiddles with something you can’t quite grasp what it is. The hint of a string is visible on her delicate fingers but what is attached to it remains a mystery. “Perhaps it’s her dreams,” you muse, observing the scene from a distance. She’s been on your radar from the moment she arrived and it’s unlikely that will change soon.
(…)
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