Chuck Wendig

There is No Exit: Flash Fiction

There is No Exit: Flash Fiction

A quick flash fiction written from a prompt from Chuck Wendig once again. This time, the prompt was ‘There is no exit.

Ivor trudged home. It had been a long, hard day. He had got into the office at 7 in the morning and it was past 10 at night now. The office was struggling to complete the audit and he had to pitch in. Still, it was better than previous years, back in The Agency. His thoughts started to drift back to- No. He was stronger than that. Continue reading →

Posted by David in My Writing, Stories, 0 comments
Oak Tree Manor: Flash Fiction

Oak Tree Manor: Flash Fiction

Another story from a prompt at Terrible Minds. This week was a mash-up of genres. I got ‘Haunted House’ and ‘Body Horror’. Enjoy!


William shifted uneasily in the bed. It was no use. He couldn’t sleep. Every time he was just about to drop off, he was woken by a creaking in the great house. It seemed to be coming from all around him, loud and all-pervasive. The sound filled his ears and jolted him from the edge of much-needed sleep.

Clearly, it wasn’t going to happen. He sat up in bed, then fumbled for the matches he had left next to the huge oak bed. He couldn’t find them. The dark was making him jumpy. With a sigh of relief, he found the box and lit the candle that was next to his bed. The oppressive darkness was replaced by flickering shadows. William wasn’t sure if this was an improvement or not.

Continue reading →

Posted by David in My Writing, Stories, 2 comments
Tourmaline: Flash Fiction

Tourmaline: Flash Fiction

Flash fiction created in response to Chuck Wendig’s prompts. Enjoy!

Sunflower grabbed at the smooth black pendant hanging around her neck. It was still there. The electric stone. Thank you, she said to herself, thank you.

Where was she? There were bright lights above her. The sense of movement. She was on her back, lying down. How did she get here? She lurched upward. The world swum around her, blurring like an out of focus camera. Someone was shouting. Someone else was speaking calmly to her, quietly. She couldn’t understand the words. They were English, but they might have been another language for all she understood.

Continue reading →

Posted by David in My Writing, Stories, 5 comments