Flash Fiction My Craft Stories

A Cold, Wet, Sticky Package

The remaining packages sat near the green door waiting for the next thief and all of them contained something messy and ugly. Our homeowner spied the woman’s face on his phone. Lovely. She likely won’t come back. Too bad she only took the small box. The biggest package contained the head of the last guy who tried to steal from him. A cold, wet, sticky, nasty, bloody head.

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My Craft

The Headless Maze Buster

I stand in my spot three quarters into the mystery maze. I hide in the dark, jump out, and scare the bejesus out of the little kids. My partner, Larry, hides across from me. He stands under three feet tall and dresses like a clown. He tells everyone he is height-challenged. I call him a dwarf. The correct term, I think, is person of short stature. I like dwarf. Larry doesn’t mind. He knows he…

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