Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction: Out of This World

3 September 2016

Edition 7 Prompt: Out of This World – E.T is A’Callin’

Stargazing
by Eliza Shallard

“No! You have to make up a story.”

“Stars are giant balls of gas Rae, they’re just burning.”

“That red one. That’s a planet run by highly intelligent fish people.”

Clarke hummed nonchalantly as she grabbed Rae’s hand from above them, staring up at the star.

“It’s red because of the red oceans, like earth looks blue. And there’s a little fish girl pointing at our planet saying to her boneheaded fish girlfriend that the pretty blue planet has blue water.”

“That’s Betelgeuse actually. The star.”

“Okay you know too much about astronomy to play this game.”

Clarke just grinned.


Invaders
By Erin Thomas

I am afraid.

They have arrived.

We were warned that this day would come.

The day when we learnt we were no longer alone.

They have sent their spaceships into our orbit.

They have stepped onto our soil.

Their appearance is alien and strange.

Domed heads and a single gleaming orange eye.

They are ruthless, emotionless and cold.

I have heard they have destroyed one planet already.

Will this one be next?

Their voices are harsh and tinny as they speak their first words.

“One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind”

I am afraid.


 

Your Alien Thing
By Ben Volchok

“Hey, so, like if you were an alien right, what do you reckon like your thing would be?”

“Thing…?”

“Yeah, like, you know, aliens have a thing.”

“You mean like…?”

“Yeah.”

“Um… I dunno.”

“Come on, just think of something.”

“I dunno.”

“Five legs.”

“Nah.”

“Scrotum but all over you.”

“Nah.”

“Come onnnn.”

“Well, what’s yours?”

“I reckon it’d be hilarious if I could like have like really wobbly arms.”

“…Wobbly arms.”

“Like really really wobbly arms.”

“That’s a good one…”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Um… okay. What if… I only had two eyes?”

“…Um.”

“What?”

“Gross…”

“I’m sorry.”

“…Ugh.”


The Final Fontier
By Ven Bolchok

“Space. The final frontier. The final frontier? Whoa. Whoa. Hold on there. Space? We’ve fucking smashed space. Space is a frontier no more. Who the fuck thought it’d be a good idea to start mining clay on Mars? We’ve fucked that up now. Been and gone. Not a frontier. Nope, there’s bigger and better frontiers, much more final than space. Time, for example. We’ve not done time yet. That’s a good frontier. Why don’t we conquer time? Yeah. Or death. Death’s a good frontier. Nice and final. Death. The final frontier…”

Bella gripped the knife. Space could go fuck itself.


Next edition’s prompt –

Cliché Destroyer: Kill a Cliché, Kill it with Fire.

Submit your 100-word Flash Fiction response to farragomedia2016@gmail.com

Due 18 SEPTEMBER, 11:59pm


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