Flash Fiction

Zombies in New York

feel the world shake. A loud roar overcomes me, and my heart is pounding with terror.

There are cuts on my hand from doing my job everyday, and the work has gotten harder.

Less room to walk, more wading through the stink of the city in which I used to know.

A city of dead still  alive.

So here I am approaching the fear itself, walking toward it. I face it straight up, fight the fear and say the magical words to it.

“I have your mail sir.”

-Michael Bennett and Rylee Gee

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Trained Athlete

e ran everyday, from morning to night.

He devoted himself to run, as he found his lone passion.

He took breaks when he ran out of steam, but quickly ate and drank to replenish his strength.

He went everywhere, from the hills to the plains.

He did his job good, as a Steam Train.

By: Sydney Godwin

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Saying Goodbye For the Last Time

’m bleeding, dying, and I’m going into the light.  Is this my last day?  My final hours?  Minutes?  Once I close my eyes, will I be gone? Gone from the world? Gone from my love? My life?”

His eyes start to slowly close. “Goodbye world.”

“And scene! That was great! OK again. From the top!”

-Hannah Law

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The Addict

here’s smoke.  He knows the smell well.  He’s been addicted for years - his whole life really.

One inhale of the poisonous cloud is enough to make him twitch - feel the urge.

He fingers the matches in his pocket, and out of habit retrieves them. Phosphorous meets potassium meets gasoline.  The living room explodes in fire.

-Erin Allen (Creative Writing Teacher)