The pathway was littered with leaves, brown and crisp, I could smell bacon in the air as I wandered past houses with soaked clotheslines outside. It was an all too similar Autumns day in Canada. The kinds of days which I had grown to despise. Autumn was when my wife Irene had died (which was eight … Continue reading Flash fiction: The tree branches drooped down that day
Flash fiction: Bloodshed
The prison was darkly lit, a lonesome light fixture flickered above, casting a lifeless shadow on the floor. Countless people wandered around it, violence in their eye and unhappiness and disenchantment all around. One inmate sat on a rotting wooden bench, fidgeting with his fingers. Whilst watching. He felt something slightly sharp poke him. All … Continue reading Flash fiction: Bloodshed
Flash fiction: How are the Howard’s?
The Howard's passed through the back alleys of Pomona, hurrying past the strange men in long black trench coats with unkempt hair and beards. Shuffling past the women in crop tops and hiked up skirts yearning for someone and something. Something that the Howard's couldn't provide and they were thankful that they couldn't provide. Allen … Continue reading Flash fiction: How are the Howard’s?
Flash fiction: A house on Hollywood and West
The house was decadent. A huge sprawling mansion that stood out from all the other grand houses on the street.There she stood outside that huge sprawling house. Expensive, gleaming shopping bags in hand. A look of worry on her face as she held her phone to her ear. The phone's green case made her all … Continue reading Flash fiction: A house on Hollywood and West
Flash fiction: Mirror image
He looked into the mirror. His hands by his side, his face slightly scrunched up. His fingers twitched and swayed from side to side. It was a strange sight. His pants didn't quite reach his socks and his jumper was two sizes too small for him. He didn't care, the mirror didn't care, only the … Continue reading Flash fiction: Mirror image
Microfiction: Swirling nobodies
The atmosphere was palpable. The man who used big words to make himself look clever was speaking. I wanted to punch him. I would of but, I was listening to someone else. Someone who drank expensive wine and had a bad haircut. The whole feeling was stark, it wasn't realistic. Everyone was pretending. I wished … Continue reading Microfiction: Swirling nobodies
Flash fiction: Swirling nobodies
The atmosphere was palpable. The man who used big words to make himself look clever was speaking. I wanted to punch him. I would of but, I was listening to someone else. Someone who drank expensive wine and had a bad haircut. The whole feeling was stark, it wasn't realistic. Everyone was pretending. I wished … Continue reading Flash fiction: Swirling nobodies
Flash fiction: Rotary screams
The room was dark. I had a mattress, with yellowed covers- covers that were originally white and clean. I had a row of deodorant bottles on a rotting wooden shelf and I had a cheap, cuboid TV with a long antenna that didn't really work, a closet and a record player with half a dozen … Continue reading Flash fiction: Rotary screams
For when the fat lady stops singing
Now I can't tell you how your life's going to go; whether you're gonna marry your high school sweetheart, make it big, live in a mansion and die with a smile on your face. Unfortunately I can't and never will. Hell not even you can prevent your life from going from heaven to hell in … Continue reading For when the fat lady stops singing
Life to the grind
I write this at the edge, what I'm at the edge of I'm not sure it could be anger, love or just this damned TV show. One thing in life I've always despised is punching the clock; working till fucking 9 till 5- I loathe it yet here I am in it. Living and breathing … Continue reading Life to the grind
Ben Brizell 