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Authors Notes:- I haven't written a great deal about vampires even though I am a big horror fan of both books and movies. This fun little short was attempt to try and rectify that issue.
176 words, quite lengthy really!
9/6/12
Judy's Roman Garland, A Flash Fiction Story by Raymond Daley
Judy dropped her flowers in the Trevi Fountain. She knew she would sorely miss the beauty of Italy. As the taxi driver called her away to go to the airport, her last thought to herself was;
'There's no place like Rome'
The End.
____________
Authors Notes:- This one was always a joke, it came from the last line and worked backwards. I had to Google the location of the Trevi Fountain to make sure the joke worked though.
41 words, short and sweet.
11/12/12
Lost In Translation (previously unpublished)
"Skriggle mena he Unadhas, Caanys sew O urnsau quar htre liy ahfvbyebdsd. Vr oudbsa pebdgy?"
The same phrase, over and over, was picked up by SETI. What did it mean, where did it come from?
All we knew was it meant we were not alone in the Universe. Analysts and Cryptologists worked on the message.
When the ship landed 3 years later the mystery was solved. They had brought their own translator technology as they knew we spoke many languages on our planet. Their leader entrusted his personal cipher to our scientists.
The decryption process was run, the message deciphered.
"My name is Msinas, Daddy says I shouldn't play with the transmitter. Is anyone there?"
THE END.
___________
Authors Notes:- Invading aliens aren't always going to want to destroy us or the planet. Sometimes they might just fancy a chat.
115 words, another of the longer ones.
13/6/12
The start of the end, A Flash Fiction story by Raymond Daley
Rex pressed the button, the one that started the particle accelerator.
Dino asked "What does this machine do again?"
"It simulates the conditions under which our Universe started." replied Rex.
"Wow!" said Dino. "So you're going to be the first Dinosaur to discover what caused the start of the Universe?"
BANG.
THE END.
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Authors Notes:- I hate scientists who screw around with stuff they don't understand just for the heck of it. A very basic law of physics states "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction".
Hence me writing this, all 50 words of it.
13/6/12
The Band Were Amazing, A Flash Fiction Story by Raymond Daley
They were on their ninth song, everyone was dancing. Even my gran, who never danced. The evening had gone really well, the live band had been a brilliant idea.
As they were packing up I introduced myself to them. "You were brilliant, everyone loved you! So this is really your first gig? What's the band called again?"
Pete, the tall one with the moustache smiled. Keith, their manic drummer just laughed. In the end, Roger, their lead singer said to me "It's too long, we hate the name."
"What is it then?" I asked.
"The International Surreptitious Foundling Organization." Roger replied, grinning as he said it.
I looked at him. "The Who?"
THE END.
______________
Authors Notes:- I have no clue how The Who came to name themselves thusly, this was just a bit of fun for some of my musician friends.
112 words worth of fun.
13/6/12
Little Green Men, A Flash Fiction Story by Raymond Daley
In the largest hanger at Groom Lake Air Force base they still puzzle over the vehicle they found at Roswell.
"They say it's red and made of wood?" said the first guard.
"No wings, yet it flew!" said the second guard.
"Piloted by a little green man?" said the first guard.
Somewhere under the ground, in a cell, the voice screamed for the millionth time. "OK! I stole the Sleigh! Just let me out! Santa's gonna go crazy when I take it back!"
THE END.
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Authors Notes:- I'd already written a jokey story that was Xmas related last year. This one was too good to hold onto for another few months but I'll probably republish it on Xmas day just for a giggle.
Simple pleasure in 83 words.
14/6/12
The Conversation, A Flash Fiction Story by Raymond Daley
"Dad, can I have ...."
"NO!"
"You don't know what I was going to ask for."
"It doesn't matter what it was. I gave you life! What more do you want? Bloody ungrateful child!"
The End.
_____________
Authors Notes:- I haven't got kids and at my age I probably never will have. Kids can be annoying though. I should know, I was one.
34 words long.
14/6/12
Join The Dots, A Flash Fiction Story by Raymond Daley
They had a good sound but they were missing something, the one thing that bound their groove together. They weren't expecting me, or my Hofner Violin Bass.
"Do you play it left handed?" asked their drummer.
I laughed, I got the reference. Paul McCartney I'd never be. We tried a few riffs together, a few bars of their favorite tunes.
"OK," said their lead singer. "You're hired."
I accepted right away.
That was the day I joined The Dots.
THE END.
___________
Authors Notes:- Sometimes it's nice to fool people with a title, say one thing, make them think another. Then throw them a complete curve ball with the punch line. Part Joke, part story, all good fun to write.
A fun joke squeezed into 79 words.
New And Used
15/6/12
I recognise the vehicle right away.
"Hello Sir or Madam! You appear to be in the market for a used travel craft. This beauty right here is very reasonable, only had one owner from new."
I already know the droid is lying, this heap of junk in front of me has had at least two owners I personally know of. Neither of them will ever be coming back for it though, they're both long dead.
"Only one owner from new, eh? You've the documentation to prove that?" I ask the droid, knowing full well even if it has they're fake.
"Why of course Sir or Madam, all our vehicles come with a fully documented service history." The droid's been reprogrammed well by the Hutts, it lies as naturally as Suns rise on this hole of a planet.
"Is it fast?" I ask.
"Why of course, Sir or Madam. This particular craft made the legendary Kessel Run in twelve parsecs." replies the droid.
"A parsec is a measurement of distance, not speed, you dumb droid! And this piece of crap has had at least TWO owners. Lando Calrissian and Han Solo, fortunately for you they've both been dead fifty years so neither of them will be wanting it back. So where did you steal it from?"
I couldn't bear its spiel of bullshit any more.
"Why Sir or Madam, I personally purchased the craft from an elderly Wookie gentleman who assured me he'd owned the craft for its entire life." explained the droid, desperate to keep any kind of sales pitch going.
"Ah, swindled by a Wookie. Makes sense. He lied to you. Any documents he gave you are either fakes or forgeries. She may be a beaten up piece of garbage but this vessel is legally mine and I have the control codes to prove it. She might be a piece of crap but the Millennium Falcon is MY piece of crap."
And with that I walked up the boarding ramp and fired her up. Again, The Falcon was mine.
THE END.
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Authors Notes:- Considering how massive a Star Wars fan I am, I'm quite surprised I'd never written anything that took place in its u
niverse.
This 340 word piece corrects that oversight.
17/6/12
Stephenson’s Other Rocket, A Flash Fiction Story by Raymond Daley
It was finally complete. George knew it must be tested. Steam had proven to be such a versatile thing. He knew this must work.
The Leonardo sketches had been so elegant yet so simple to implement. All he had been missing was the power source strong enough.
George turned the wheel slowly, releasing the pressure. He watched the gauge, letting the level build until he was ready.
Two hours later he stood before the wreckage. He was grateful to be unharmed. He did not know why the vehicle had crashed but he knew he would never have enough money to rebuild it.
Stephenson’s Rocket would never fly again.
Perhaps a wheeled vehicle would be more viable?
THE END.
__________
Authors Notes:- Probably my first attempt at what I'd consider to be Steampunk. An unusual look at what someone might have invented before the first train in 116 words.
17/6/12
The Chosen, A Flash Fiction Story by Ray Daley
G3 is up there right now, enjoying his moment, his time in the sun. It's the first time he's ever been selected, he's proud of the honour.
The rest of us sit, waiting for the command, for the call, for the Selection.
F6 is next in the queue, fourth time for him today, he's real popular. It's rare that a day goes by when he isn't chosen at least once, people seem to really love him.
I am D18, unchosen as of yet. I've been here from First Day.
Sometimes they come and Reshuffle, I've survived many of those, I am not yet a reject. Units come and units go, so far I have survived the many purges.
It's coming to the end of G3's time now, the mechanism ceases and lowers him back to our rack. F6 is picked up and carried to the mechanism, again it is his time.
Then, I see it. The light above me. The selector is on.
D18 has been chosen.
I must wait my turn but I am now next in line. This will be my first time here and I am very proud. I will perform to the best of my ability.
The owner carefully wipes the keypad, F6 is so well-worn now, it's barely legible.
"I really love this track!" said Kerry.
"Yeah, Justin Bieber is so awesome!" said Megan.
"What did you pick again?" said Kerry.
"D18, it's been so long since I heard it." replied Megan.
Kerry traced her finger across the glass then finally saw the marker.
D18 - Agadoo by Black Lace.
THE END.
______________
Authors Notes:- A few people have written pieces about what it's like inside various common objects. This is my take on what it's like to be a record inside a jukebox.
At 265 words it's one of the longer stories.
17/6/12
Desperately Trying To Ignore Them (previously unpublished)
The voices were as clear as ever, as persistent as ever.
He stuck his fingers deeper into his ears.
"La, la, la, la! I'm not listening! I'm not listening!" he sing-songed to himself, trying to block out the wall of sound.
Still the voices continued.
"I. AM. NOT. LISTENING. OK?" He was screaming now, as loudly as he could.
He needed to make them understand, no matter how long they continued, however urgent their cries were, he was never going to heed them.
'What am I supposed to do?' he thought to himself. 'I am just one individual. How can I possibly help any of them?'
The voices, layered one upon the other, still persisted.
"Our Father..."
"Oh Lord, hear my prayer..."
"Dear God..."
"I'm not listening!"
THE END.
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Authors Notes:- I'm not a very religious person, I've said that before in my notes for "The Illuminators". Sometimes you have to wonder, if there is a supreme creator then why doesn't he/she/it heed our prayers?
My final story in this collection, a 127 word piece is my take on the matter.
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