Friday-fictionettes Stories

Things have a tendency fall apart, no matter how tightly you tie them together.

This is a creation myth the birds tell each other. It's as likely to be right as anyone else's.

From time to time, the Tree of Liberty must be fertilized with silicon dust.

The kettle is screaming. The world's the wrong shape. Something's here that shouldn't be there at all.

It looked peaceful and inviting and far too perfect.

It was obvious to Coach Curtis what the rutabagas were doing the moment he stumbled into their field.

It's not a game anymore.

They'd have to be very good reasons. Wizards aren't generally afraid of anything... right?

This sort of conversation happens periodically in the valley. Nothing ever comes of it.

There comes a time when a character's just got to say, "Enough, already."

Serpents come in many guises, bearing every kind of fruit. But none of them bother to lie. Why should they, when the truth is weapon enough?

Your condition has become impossible to ignore. You wish the same could be said for yourself.

I guess we can't call him Lazy Lou no more, 'cause he finally done stopped bein' lazy.

You made your traveling companion; now you have to share a seat with it.

The investor is no angel, but his assistant is no demon.

Again she saw thick stone walls in her mind's eye. Her mind's ear reported trumpets, a royal fanfare.

Not your usual hostile takeover. (A bonus fictionette which continues where "...BRIGHT SMILES!" left off.)

He had the power and the wealth to command any pleasure, and the result was that all life's pleasures had begun to pall.

"Tell me about your other dreams." "What other dreams?"

This was not how origami was supposed to behave.