Flash Fiction Friday

#flashfictionfriday 10

Gunfire and smoke — that was all there was. Laynee sheltered her head with her arms and shook. There was hay up her nostrils, in her mouth, her ears; diving into the haystack wasn’t the brightest idea she’d ever had but it’d kept her safe and out of the hitman’s sight.

There’d never been a hit in her village. Noelyn Downs was the smallest township in the whole fiefdom and they rarely drew the interest of the high lords much less their ire. They were farmers, after all. They spent their days breeding horses and baking bread without the slightest concern for the happenings in the capital.

And yet … someone had ordered old Len Tomlin dead.

Laynee poked a tunnel through the hay, just wide enough to catch a glimpse of the hitman in his long black coat. A wisp of smoke snaked from the barrel of the flintlock cocked over his arm.

Len Tomlin was at his feet. He bent down and searched for something inside the collar of the old farmer’s shirt. With a tug he pulled the necklace free, stepped over the corpse and carried on his way.

Flash Fiction Friday

#flashfictionfriday 09

Nathan didn’t mind detention when Simon was there too, even though it meant he missed kicking the footy around with his mates and his usual sneaky ciggy behind the bike sheds with Taylor.

They’d played up in fourth period maths, and now the two of them were alone in the classroom until Ms Dean returned at the halftime bell to check if they were done. Nathan would’ve been finished ages ago if it weren’t for his too frequent glances at Simon, who had slid so far down in the chair his butt was on the edge of the seat.

‘Aren’t you going to do anything?’ Nathan asked.

Simon shrugged. ‘She just said we had to finish, not that it needed to be correct. I’ll scribble down some numbers when the bell rings. I’m in no hurry.’

A ghost of smile.

Nathan closed his book.

Flash Fiction Friday

#flashfictionfriday 08

She trembled.

Face pressed to the pine needles, Stephanie willed herself invisible. Her breath was little more than a shallow necessity, her only movement as she willed her quaking limbs still.

Footsteps crunched by.

Heavy boots paused by her face. They stunk of sap and kangaroo shit.

The felled tree hid her shadow. Even with the full moon and starry night sky above, the thickness of the forest distorted the light penetrating the world below the trees.

The boots moved on.

She could breathe again.

Gardens of War & Wasteland

welcome to whyt’hallen 02: character interview – amikharlia

September is upon us and that means a new instalment of WELCOME TO WHYT’HALLEN. In this month’s edition, we sit down for a Q&A with the Gardens of War & Wasteland protagonist herself—Princess Amikharlia Elys Holani.

First, let’s kick things off with a mood board!

THE LOST PRINCESS—AMIKHARLIA: Unaccepting of the life laid out before her, Amika runs away from the Holanian capital of Adria to forge her own path—and seek answers for her darkest secrets. Images via canva.com
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