Here’s another 100 word flash fiction piece written for Phlambler’s World. After last week’s super-short story was well received, I couldn’t help myself and had to go back for another. Capping a story at 100 words breeds an entirely different kind of tale and works different writing muscles. I may have to keep at this, perhaps making it a weekly thing in addition to my longer flash fiction posts on Thursdays.
Here are Phlambler’s rules for this week’s 100 words:
100 words maximum, excluding the title, of flash fiction or poetry using all of the three words above (‘averse’, ‘ink’ and ‘trunk’) in the genres of horror, fantasy or science fiction.
“I’m not averse to helping,” Beatrice said, “but he could have asked. Properly, I mean.”
“Can you hand me that parchment? And the ox-blood ink?” Anne complied and Beatrice placed them in the trunk with her other materials.
“At least,” she continued, “he thought to offer us a boon for our troubles.”
“Bee, please don’t.”
“If Lucifer wants my aid, he can listen to me gripe about his poor manners ’til I’m blue in the face!”
Beatrice’s body jerked and she reached for her neck, eyes wide.
Her face turned azure as she began to gasped for breath.