Two New Micro Fiction Stories

What is better than one new flash fiction story? How about two new stories - although these are probably better described as micro fiction. Although by two separate authors, writing independently, they share the common theme of men having unfortunate - and terminal - relationships with women.

Our first story is by Jessica McHugh, who describes herself as an author of speculative fiction spanning the genre from horror and alternate history to young adult. A 2013 Pulp Ark nominee, she has devoted herself to novels, short stories, poetry and playwriting. Jessica has had sixteen books published in six years, including her bestselling thriller Rabbits in the Garden and the first book in her YA series The Darla Decker Diaries. More info on her speculations and publications can be found at A Barbaric Yawp.

Nailed
by Jessica McHugh

Clack. Clack. Clack.

She’s dead, but he can’t escape her damn fingernails. He found one stuck to his back this morning, splintered where it snapped off her right pinkie. He peeled it away, but it left a crescent indentation in his flesh that still feels sore. The bloody tuft of hair glued to the underside matches the patch she’d scraped from his scalp.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

It’s louder now. Closer. More desperate.

He shivers. The sound isn’t in his mind. Someone drums their nails on the front door—three clacks and one stubby thump. 

He didn’t bury her deep enough.

# # # # #

Our second contributor is Jack Hillman. In addition to the YA fantasy trilogy The Giants War, published by MUSA Books, Jack's published short fiction has appeared in Sorcerous Signals, Amazon Shorts, GateWay SF magazine, Jackhammer, Aberrations, Eternity Online, Gateways, Once Upon A World, Nuketown, the Kings of The Night III anthology, the Magistria: World of the Sorcerer anthology, and the Ruins Extraterrestrial anthology.

jackhillman.com
 
Don’t Say It!
by Jack Hillman

A blinding flash and a deafening report filled the room and his senses.

He reached over to take her hand as she lay next to him after the event that changed his life.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” she answered, with a languid smile.  She stretched her nude form slowly crossing her legs with his.

He hesitated not wanting to spoil the moment but feeling a need.  “I love you,” he said.

“I know,” she answered, and dissolved into a puddle of nanites, flowing off the bed and into her container.

The label on the container read: No Commitment.