He’s crumpled on the cold kitchen tile floor. Over these two years, he’d forgotten the one rule: respect the cookie. I thought we were a team. We’d survived a life of snoring, farting, and dead plants. I could overlook the sounds, the smells, and the brown leaves, but even I have boundaries. Eating my last gourmet chocolate toffee cookie was one of them. I turned away from him and rinsed the frying pan. After I put it away, I stepped over him and snatched my cookie from his

This fictional story started with a draft of the first paragraph. I didn't know where to go with the story, and let it sit for a few years. Then, when I took a flash fiction writing class, I dusted this off and finished it as one of the assignments. I am really proud of how it turned out. The sounds of clinking glass remind me of wind chimes, which ordinarily soothe me, but when I open my eyes, unconsciously, they land on him. He unleashes his schoolgirl giggles while rubbing

“Oh, um hey there!” I said, awkwardly. This can’t be happening to me, I randomly decided to stop at McDonald’s before hopping on the...

I love thriller stories, and I discovered flash fiction seven years ago. I decided to combine them and see what happens. Her white...