In a world . . .

Well, it’s not really a world, is it?

In the space between worlds . . .

That’s redundant, not very descriptive, and probably not related to what you want to say.

*sigh* On a ship traveling from its homeworld . . .

Hmm. Not enough detail, I think. Could you maybe add some specifics?

The spaceship Thetis leads an escadrille out of New Alexandria on spring maneuvers–

Maybe not that specific.

In an electronic communication medium, a disembodied voice gives up and heads out for an early weekend.

Oh, sure, give up. Come on, you were almost there. One more try. . . pretty please?

100 words

My blog is participating in the Forward Motion Flash Friday Blog Group, a weekly flash fiction exercise (not that I’m managing weekly!). Check out the other participating blogs for more flash.

Originally published at Erin M. Hartshorn. You can comment here or there.

Egg Hunt

The brown hare huddled beneath the hedge, nose twitching. The children had started their annual egg hunt, with the oldest girl quickly grabbing all the shiniest eggs. Typical. Her younger siblings resented it, of course, calling “Selfish!” and “Don’t be so grabby,” but their parents just rolled their eyes and said, “Everyone will share equally.”

The watching fey tweaked the hare’s tail. Surprised, it bolted in front of the children.

“The Easter Bunny!” They chased it, the oldest girl leading, so she got most of the candy-filled eggs.

The tooth fairy smiled evilly. Soon, she would have a rich harvest.

– THE END –

100 words

My blog is participating in the Forward Motion Flash Friday Blog Group, a weekly flash fiction exercise (not that I’m managing weekly!). Check out the other participating blogs for more flash.

I wish you a happy Easter, if you celebrate it.

Originally published at Erin M. Hartshorn. You can comment here or there.

They gave Sam 140 characters in which to say goodbye.

“She’ll never know where you are or what’s happened, but you can give her this.”

A single tweet? Sam stared at her avatar and racked his brain for words of great lovers, wishing he could see her one last time.

“It is a far, far–” No, they wouldn’t let him say that, even if he could fit it into a tweet.

“Ditto”?

No. He had to say something that would let her move on.

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

. . . if only it were true. He hit send.

– THE END –

100 words

My blog is participating in the Forward Motion Flash Friday Blog Group, a weekly flash fiction exercise. Check out the other participating blogs for more flash.

Originally published at Erin M. Hartshorn. You can comment here or there.