Showing posts with label Flash Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Flash Fiction. Show all posts

March 05, 2025

I Published 3 Books in 3 Months


 

And I need a nap.

I published a picture book for my mom in January, a middle grade book in February, and a collection of flash fiction and poetry for my mom on March 3rd.

Three books.

Three months.

The last on March 3rd in honor of my mom.

Three was her favorite number.

I didn't realize any of that until now, so apparently, no matter how exhausted it made me, it was meant to be.


I present to you...the three:




Gregory Green and Sammy go on a fishing adventure with Grandpa. Except, it doesn’t seem like much of an adventure to Sammy the Teddy Bear. He hasn’t caught a single thing all day and is bored. Then a tug on his fishing pole changes everything. Excited, they take the catch home where the fish gets bigger and bigger. Only, it’s not a fish at all. It’s a catch of a lifetime.

Links (so far):


Print: AMAZON

Reviews: BookBub / Goodreads




Fay Williams and her family have moved from their home in New Orleans to Deadoak, a small town where strange things are said to happen, and Fay hopes so. She is a magnet for the strange and documents everything in her Journal of Weird. During her first day at school, Fay finds out her science class will be dissecting frogs. She can’t think of anything she wants to do less, but Mr. Phibian will fail her if she doesn’t. Now she has no choice.

Except, the frogs have another plan when they come to life and terrorize the school. Can Fay, her twin brother Jay, and her lab partner Frances save their school and prevent everyone from turning into half-human, half-frog creatures with a hunger for flies and…people?

Fay knows one thing for sure. This is going in her Journal of Weird!

Links (so far):

eBook: Nook / Kobo / AppleSmashwordsAmazon


Reviews: Goodreads






In loving memory of Elaine Kaye.

Sweet romances for the lighthearted and intriguing suspense for the daring. Poetry that explores the longing of loneliness, the desire for love, and the wish to fly free.

Links (so far):

eBook: Nook / Kobo / Apple / SmashwordsAmazon

Print: Amazon



I have plans to publish more in the final few months of the year, so stay tuned!



August 12, 2015

A Little Murder (Flash Fiction)



I'm over at Unicorn Bell today with....

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A Little Murder

By

Chrys Fey

Charm climbed out the shattered window. Shards of glass stuck up out of the dirt like weeds. She carefully set her feet on the ground then took off running. Behind her, she could hear her stepfather’s screams. The rickety door to their falling down house flew open, banged against the wall, and clattered back against the doorframe. He was coming after her with a gun in his hand, the same gun he used to kill her mother with moments before. He hadn’t known she was there, standing in the hallway as they fought.

Her stepfather was mad-drunk at three in the afternoon. When that happened, her mother usually got bruises blooming purples and yellows on her body. This fight started when her mother bravely announced she was leaving him. Her bravery got her killed. Now Charm had to fend for herself.

Her small feet carried her though the woods as she cried for her mother. Sticks stabbed her heels and pine cones pricked her toes, drawing blood. She threw her petite body into palm bushes, their teeth ripped at her arms and legs, but her fright was so strong it hid the pain. She followed a skinny path covered with pine needles through the Florida wilderness.

“Get back here, you little bitch,” her stepfather hollered. The sound of his large, beer-padded body sounded like a giant T-Rex. His shouts and curses followed Charm deeper and deeper.

She came out of the woods into a clearing for the Anderson home. Charm knew they were gone for the summer. She snatched the rusted key out from under the welcome mat and locked herself inside. She didn’t even allow herself to take a breath. She ran into the kitchen to find a weapon. If her stepfather was as dumb as a tapeworm, he would stumble on by the Anderson home, but she didn’t take much stock in that luxurious thought.

The Anderson kitchen had ancient linoleum on the floor, sickly-yellow counters, and a scratched table that still had pieces of the Andersons’ last meal there. It was a definite step up from her home.

She tugged open a kitchen drawer. Cockroaches scattered. She grabbed the biggest knife and hurried into the bedroom where she slid under the bed to join a horde of dust bunnies. Hitchhikers clung to her dress and poked her skin. She clutched the butcher knife to her chest.

Size eleven boots staggered up the front steps of the Anderson home. The sound of the door breaking open made her jump. “I know you’re in here! I’m going to kill you like I killed your mother.”

Chills danced along Charm’s spine. Her stepfather’s footsteps moved through the cabin to her hiding place. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was in the room with her. She held her breath. Large hands roped around her ankles. She let out a scream as he yanked her out from under the bed. He pulled her between his legs and fumbled with the gun. She didn’t think twice when she plunged the knife into his chest. When he fell to the ground, she was cemented to the floor, panting for breath fear kept stealing from her lungs.

When her stepfather didn’t move, she realized he was dead. She stood over him as relief flooded her three-foot-tall body. Surely, no one would convict a six-year-old of murder. © 


                                                         THE END

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July 08, 2015

My Declaration of Independence for the World (Written as a Teen)



A couple of months ago I mentioned that I rewrote the Declaration of Independence for a contest when I was in high school. The topic for the essay was “What Freedom Means to Me.” I won first place in my school and third place in the district. I am still super proud of the plaque I got. As a matter of fact, it hangs on my wall near my desk.

Below is the essay. The part of the Declaration I rewrote is indented. Please keep in mind that I was fifteen when I wrote this. I also won't tolerate negative comments about any of the freedoms that I mention in my speech. Thanks!


***

“Freedom means many things. You have the right to be who you want to be whether it’s the President of the United States, a lawyer of the best court, or a makeup and red nose wearing clown. You also have the right to do what you want, even if it’s dancing the funky chicken in your apartment or writing a comic and sending it to the newspaper to be published. But mostly importantly, you’re not owned by another like a slave.


“Freedom can be shown millions of ways such as dying your hair red, white and blue; joining the army to fight for your country; or going to school to get an education. I demonstrate my greatly appreciated freedom, given to me by those who gave their lives for mine, by writing my own Declaration of Independence, which I desperately wish applied to this divided world today. Because I am free, I can write my own Declaration as long as I don’t forget the real Declaration. Who could forget about this famous document signed by the most intelligent and wise men that states our freedom? I don’t think anyone can.


“My World Declaration of Independence starts and ends like so:
“We the people of this large and over-populated world are free. We have the rights of speech, marriage, presidency, education, life, happiness, safety, and choice. No president, government, senate, mayor, or any other high powered, crown-wearing, kingdom and throne bearing person can ignore these rights or make laws against them. If they do, we have the choice to overthrow them with the snap of a finger. Once they are robed of their position, we then have the full power in our hands to find and vote for a new eligible person to take their place. 


The certificate I received. The plaque doesn't show up well in pictures.


Freedom of Speech grants us the honor to express our opinions, as long as they are not hurtful, and not get in trouble. 
Freedom of Marriage allows gays to marry with no protest. 
Freedom of Presidency permits men and women of different races, religions, cultures, or any other feature that separates us from one another to be the President of the United States of America. 
Freedom of Education aids children in foreign countries to go to school. Students from all over the world will have the opportunity to learn from books, computers, and teachers. 
Freedom of Life gives us the chance to live as we see fit. 
Freedom of Happiness admits everyone the chance to find satisfaction and bliss in any way they can, within legal limits, and no one can stop them. 
Freedom of Safety authorizes people to fight for themselves and their loved ones when faced with dangerous situations or people. 
And Freedom of Choice grants women full control over their bodies and the power to say “No!” 
Because we are all free, we are all free to do as we want and please, as long as we do not hurt one another. No king, dictator, or legislator can make us do anything against our dreams, morals, or wishes. We can stand up for ourselves and what we believe in because we can! 
No man can be sold to another man. No man is a slave to another man. No man has the right to start war where loves ones are parted countries away, deprived of many things, and sometimes killed while fighting for their country. No there won’t be any more war likes that or any other kind! 
We have all suffered from slavery, war, poverty, murder, and the list goes on and on full of the evil things we have done to each other. But that ends now with this Declaration! There will be no more terrorism, flag burnings, cults, riots, massacres, bombings, looting, or any other hurtful crime that has happened in the past. 
To make this so, all states and countries will have massive prisons for a sentencing of so many years. The world will be a better place for all and all to come. 
So therefore, unto I speak to you, I declare the people of the world FREE!” 
Every year I visit the moving wall that comes down to Florida. I stare in awe at all the little white names blanketing the movable black marble. I wonder what their last thoughts were before they died in those bloody, life-taking, and freedom-giving battles. Maybe one of them thought, as he lay on the bullet covered ground, “I changed the world with my life and one day we’ll be free so one little girl can write her own Declaration of Independence.”


QUESTION: What would you put in your World Declaration of Independence? 


(P.S. hateful comments will be ignored and deleted.)


June 17, 2015

Swans by Chrys Fey (Flash Fiction)


I am co-hosting Unicorn Bell today: Dear Young Writer


BLOG TOUR:
Rachel Pattinson - Top 10 Ghost Entertainment

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SWANS is a flash fiction story I wrote last year for a contest. It is based on the myth of swan maidens. When I lost the contest, I submitted it to magazines and ezines. The bit of feedback I got back with my rejections is that it wasn't unique enough. Since I wasn't trying to do something new with the myth, I decided to publish it here for everyone's entertainment. I hope you like it!



Swans
By
Chrys Fey

            Nehe, a beautiful swan, glided over the ebony waters of a pond in Cork, Ireland. Her webbed feet swished gently beneath her body. Ripples spread leisurely across the water as she bobbed her head, extending the curve of her long neck.

Image by Chrys Fey.

            Her form passed over the reflection of the full moon and she lifted her head to look at the real thing. Way up in the night sky, with stars like sugar crystals, the moon’s eyes stared at her expectantly. It knew her intentions, her desires to experience a new life.
            Closing her eyes she continued to swim across the pond and thought, I want to be human. Upon opening her eyes, she saw a sparkling haze surround her, like a puff of glittery exhaust. Magic swirled within those sparkles and flowed along her feathers. She felt her webbed toes separate, her legs elongate. Her wings transformed into arms, and a lean torso sprouted out of the water. Her feet touched the bottom of the pond and she walked with human legs.
            No more was she a swan, but a young woman with alabaster skin, black eyes, and pure-white hair that reached her hips. She wore a white silk dress and carried a coat of feathers in her arms.
            Emerging from the cloud of glitter, she stepped out of the pond onto grass. Knowing her swanskin was the only way she’d be able to return to her rightful form, she hid it beneath a rose bush.
            Free from her bonds, she danced among the woods with a gracefulness she never possessed when she had wings. She swung around tree trunks and skipped along dirt paths. The moon guided her wherever she went.
            She spent the whole night romping, enjoying her newfound independence. Each breath that filled her human lungs was intoxicating. She wanted to continue her fun, to explore the rest of the world, but the dark hours started to turn to light. She hurried back to her pond. While wadding back into the cold water, she donned her feathers and morphed back into a swan.
            With a heavy heart, she swam to the far end of the pond where her family crowded together in their slumber.
            The next night she slipped away again and shed her swanskin to delight in the life she craved. She hid her feathers beneath the same bush as before, and ventured further into a world she didn’t know but secretly coveted. She did this every night for several moon phases.
            Coming home one dawn, she encountered a black swan waiting for her in the center of the pond. “Welcome back, Nehe,” the black swan greeted her.
            “Zhay, what are you doing here?”
            “Following you.” She stretched her black neck in authority. “I know what you’ve been doing.”
            Nehe lowered her head in shame.
            “I don’t blame you, sister. I’ve done the same thing, and countless other swans have too, but it is dangerous. You have to be more cautious. It would be wise if you never turned human again.”
            “But my heart yearns for it.”
            “You must desist! Swear to me you will.”
            Trying to hide her sorrow, Nehe promised Zhay a promise she would soon break.

Image by Chrys Fey.

            Once more, she snuck out of the pond, out of her feathers, and went on an adventure. All of her wild running and play quickly exhausted her though, so she returned to her pond to retrieve her coat, but it wasn’t where she had left it. She checked the other bushes nearby and came up empty. Frantic, she scurried along the edge of the woods, searching for a single feather to point her in the direction of her coat.
            Tears blurred her eyes. Without her coat, she would never be a swan again, she would never be able to go home, and she would never see her family. She couldn’t believe how foolish she had been.
            I should’ve listened to Zhay. She turned her back to the woods and looked out over the pond. Would she come if I called to her for help? Or would she leave me to my new fate?
            Right when she was about to call out to Zhay, a large hand clamped over her mouth, and an arm circled her waist. She flapped her arms, kicked her feet and bucked in an attempt to break free. The strength of her captor was great, but she didn’t give up. She shook her head until the hand slipped from her mouth, and she bit it.
             “Ah! Damn it,” a man’s voice growled in her ear. His arms tightened around her as he yanked her through the woods. “Stop fighting! You’re mine now.”
            She fought harder. “You can’t have me,” she said with a deep, human voice. “I am one of the Fay. I am a swan!”
            “But not anymore,” he taunted. “You shed your swanskin.”
            Fear washed through her like algae. “You have my coat, don’t you?”
            “I do, my swan maiden. Now you’re stuck in human form forever.”
            He wrestled her to a nearby house where he locked her into the basement. She paced the concrete floor with her bare feet and shouted at the top of her lungs, demanding him to set her free.
            The sun rose, sending spears of light through the high, barred window. She watched the angle of the beams shift over the floor as every hour passed. Mid-day, the door above creaked open. She ran across the floor, hoping to make it up the stairs before the door could close. A hunk of bread came bumping down the wooden steps and landed on the floor. Near the foot of the stairs, she saw a handful of raw spinach leaves fluttering in the air. When she reached the bottom, the door was already shut.
            At night, the man returned. The moment he was insight, with his two feet on the concrete, Nehe launched herself at him, but he shoved her to the floor as if she weighed less than a feather pillow. She glared up at him, brimming with hate. For the first time since he pushed her into the basement, she could see him clearly. He had a ponytail of black hair, loose strands fell around his face. His eyes were a frozen blue. He was massive in width and height—a giant in her eyes.

Image by Chrys Fey.

            “I’m not meant to live as a human,” she told him.
            “Funny. You should’ve realized that sooner, before you became one night after night.”
            “How do you know I’ve shed my skin night after night?”
            “Because I saw you come out of the water that first night, saw where you hid your coat, watched you dance. And when you continued to do it, I decided I’d take you as my bride.”
            “I’m not to be taken!” She pulled a silver whistle from beneath her silk bodice and blew it with all her might, sending out a high-pitched cry.
            He jumped forward and ripped the delicate chain from her neck. “What is this?”
            “You’ll see.”
            He tossed the whistle across the basement. “I found a priest who will wed us tonight. Come on!” He grabbed her arm and yanked her several steps.
            The sound of the front door breaking stopped their tug-of-war.
            “What was that?” he demanded.
            Nehe only smiled.
            The beat of dozens of wings and a chorus of angry honks became deafening. The basement door flew open, letting in a flock of swans. They attacked the man, biting him and ramming into his body, so that he released his hold on her.
            She dashed up the stairs where more swans waited for her. They flapped their wings and wobbled on their short legs as they led her down a hall, up two flights of stairs, and into the attic.
            A massive swan hopped onto a trunk and belted loudly.
            “Thank you, brother,” she said.
            The swan hopped down.
            She threw the lid open with a bang. Inside was her swanskin.  She pulled it out and hugged it to her chest. With it cradled protectively in her arms, she hurried out of her captor’s house.
            All the swans that came to her rescue surrounded her in the woods, escorting her to safety. When she reached the pond, she slowed her gait from a run to a slow walk, for standing at the shore of the pond was a tall, regal woman with dark skin and a sheet of onyx hair. She wore a black dress of silk that pooled at her feet.
            “Zhay.” Nehe bowed her head.
            “Are you ready to come home, my sister?”
            Nehe nodded as drops of liquid salt coated her eyes. “I never should’ve left. A swan is what I am meant to be, and I will proudly be a swan forever.”
Taking Zhay’s hand, Nehe stepped into the water. A mist swooped around them as they walked deeper, and when it dissolved into the night air, all that remained were two swans—one black and one white.

Image by Chrys Fey.



THE END

QUESTIONS: What did you think of my story? Have you heard about the myth of swan maidens? Do you like swans?

September 05, 2014

The Great Kitty Rescue / Charity Cat Anthology Hop

Kyra Lennon created this fabulous blog hop for anyone and everyone to share a story or poem about a cat. The entries for this blog hop will be turned into an anthology and all the proceeds will go to Teignbride and Totnes Cat Protection. I, of course, couldn't pass up this opportunity to help. To read the other stories by participants go HERE.




Kyra, I give you permission to use my work in the book. :D



The Great Kitty Rescue - A True Story

by

Chrys Fey


On a warm September day in Florida, I orchestrated the Great Kitty Rescue.

Most cities in the United States have an abundance of stray cats roaming the streets and taking up residence in neighborhoods. Ever since I was a little girl with golden pigtails, I would fall in love with stray cats and—with the help of my big, green eyes—persuade my parents to let me keep them. As an adult, nothing changed that much. Except for the pigtails.

When a stray mommy cat in my area took her litter and left behind a single kitten with vibrant green eyes, I took care of her by feeding her and leaving the door to my patio open to serve as shelter. Despite the fact that she would venture into my apartment with curious eyes and cautious steps, she remained wary of me. She soon grew up to become a mommy herself and gave birth to four bundles of fur—one black, one gray tabby, and two yellow tabbies. Knowing she could trust me, she led her babies into my apartment, letting them get used to the strange smells and alien surroundings. Her four kittens were a little over a month old when she disappeared. I continued to feed her babies and kept an eye out for her, hoping she’d return. She didn’t.

On the Autumn Equinox of 2013, I woke up to a kitty nightmare; a woman had one of the yellow tabbies in her claw and was using him to lure out the other kittens. Panic surged through my veins like magma. The urge to storm out of my apartment and snap at her in my pajamas, my hair mused, and my breath ripe from sleep was unbearable, but I managed to dampen the sensation. I had seen the woman several times before, which only heightened my anxiety. She had a cat with a broken tail that roamed the complex and fought the kittens’ mom, which was probably why she left, seeking safety and peace. This woman was also the mother of obnoxious twin boys who caused havoc; chasing after the mommy cat and throwing rocks at the kittens’ shelter. For the kittens’ sakes, I couldn’t let her get a single one of them!

But to my horror, the black kitten, a little fur ball that hopped like a bunny, crawled out into the open and right into the woman’s trap. She grabbed the black kitten, frightening him so badly that he fought against her. His struggle freed both him and his brother, and they scurried back to safety.

Determined, the woman left and returned with a small bowl of cat food. She put the bowl down and hunkered low to the ground, waiting for them to emerge. They didn’t. She soon grew tired of waiting and went back to her apartment, but her twins and a group of their friends haunted the area, on the lookout for the babies.

All day long, as I decorated the inside of my apartment for Halloween, I watched the horde of children. With each ghost and skeleton I pulled out of my box of Halloween decorations, I concocted a plan to get the four kittens into my apartment. I tied a piece of yarn around the door handle of my patio door and weaved it through my home to my hiding place.

At dusk, when the babies crept out of their hiding place, I opened the sliding glass door to my apartment, put a plate of food on the floor, and waited for them to come for their dinner. One by one they entered my apartment and surrounded the plate. As they ate, I pulled the length of yarn to close the porch door, and quietly slide the glass door behind them.

With their bellies full, the kittens went to leave and encountered a sheet of glass in their way. The black kitten became frantic, walking back and forth along the track, rallying up his three brothers. Fortunately, their fear only lasted a minute before they started to bat around a pumpkin bell I left out for them to play with. That first night, they slept in a huddle under my kitchen table. By the third night, I woke up to find all four kittens cuddled by my feet in bed. They soon felt right at home and became permanent additions to my family—Cole, Clover, Milo and Otis.

THE END


The kittens' mom AKA Kitty.

Playing with the pumpkin bell.

Their first night sleeping under my table.

Cole, Clover, Milo and Otis today.

About the Author:

Chrys Fey is an author with The Wild Rose Press. She has published two eBooks, Hurricane Crimes and 30 Seconds, and she is currently writing the sequel to Hurricane Crimes to serve as book two in the Disaster Crime series. Her blog, Write with Fey, is dedicated to helping and inspiring writers. She lives in Florida with her four cats.

You can find her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/ChrysFey 


July 24, 2014

Mesmerized by Elaine Kaye (Flash Fiction)

I don't usually post flash fiction on my blog, but this piece was written by my mom and she is the exception. ;) You may have come across a phrase or two on my blog about how story ideas can come from anywhere. I often refer to story ideas as sparks. See: Catching a Spark.




And since my mom's story demonstrates that you can get a story idea anywhere, I knew I had to share it here.

Background: My mom worked at a quilt shop for many years. They had fabrics of all kinds, with every design imaginable. Quilts and panels hung from the ceiling to show the quilters who came in to shop what their projects could look like. One of those quilts had a green and yellow pattern that looked like a star burst, and everyone who saw it said it looked like a shadow was in the center. And my mom, being the writer she is, thought of a story for it.

Image by Chrys Fey.


Mesmerized

by


In three hours, Bree would open the door of her art gallery to show a new collection to the elite. There was only one problem and Bree planned to solve it immediately as she grabbed her cell phone.

“Chad, my love. Where is the star of the show? It should have been here hours ago!”

“Hold on, Bree. Let me get another phone to locate Mike. It was his job to get it there well before the opening.”

Bree counted the seconds of silence as she paced the room. If the best piece of their opening was not displayed, she would be ruined and she’d hold Chad responsible.

“Bree, darling,” Chad said in a high-pitched voice. “Mike is about ten minutes away. I will be there well before the opening.”

The call disconnected and Bree heard silence again. Looking at her watch, she sighed, thankful that there was still plenty of time.

Hours later, Bree and Chad stood before their prize painting located in a private area of the gallery. It would always be the showstopper!

“Do you think it will work tonight?” Chad asked Bree.

“You should know it only happens to the right person. I have a strong feeling he will appear.”

“Come on, my love,” he said, and escorted her to the front door. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

After most of the first crowd left, Bree walked over to Chad. “I saw him. He’s here! His shadow appeared near the painting. I told you he would appear. “

“This will be one of our most successful nights ever. I can feel it. We owe ourselves a glass of champagne.”

“Bree!” someone called in distress. “I can’t find Linda. She wandered off and I’ve looked everywhere for her.”

“Don’t worry, John. She will turn up soon. With all these people here, I’m sure she is talking business with someone. You know how Linda is.”

“Chad,” she whispered. “He’s claimed Linda already.”

Chad smiled. “I just found out Harry can’t be found anywhere either. This is going to be one big event.”

Bree walked over to the star painting to find a man named Alex starring at it. “Hi, Alex. Isn’t this painting exquisite?”

“Extraordinary, Bree. I know you’ve had it here before, but this is the first time I’ve
been able to see it. You know, the more I look at it the more I feel like it is pulling me in.”

“That is just what the artist wanted; to make you feel hypnotized. Now if you will excuse me, I need to talk to Chad.”

“Wait! I see something in the center. It looks like some kind of shadow.”

 “That is exactly what the artist wanted. I’ll be back in a minute Alex.” She walked away smiling.

“I saw you with Alex,” Chad murmured under his breath. “It was a success, wasn’t it?”

“One of the best so far tonight.”

“Listen, I am about to close the door. I just saw Gail wandering to the painting. You might want to visit her.” He gave Bree a wink as he locked the door.

“Gail, it’s been ages!” Bree gave her a friendly hug. “I see you like our star painting.”

“I didn’t know it was here. I was about to leave when I saw a glow coming out of this room and it just drew me in. This painting is remarkable. To me, it looks like a star burst.”

“What a perfect diagnosis. What else do you see?” she asked. “I saw Alex earlier, and he mentioned he saw something in the middle of the painting.”

“Really?” Gail sounded intrigued. “Can I step forward? No alarms will go off, right?”

Bree laughed. “No, go ahead and get closer. The alarms will be set after we leave. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“No, wait! I do see a shadow.”
Chad entered the room then. “I see Gail is mesmerized by our painting. How are you, Gail? Anything exciting?”

Gail nodded. “Has anyone ever said they saw a shadow appear before them in the center of the painting? It looks so real, and I do feel a pulling sensation.”

“I have heard rumors, but nothing has happened to me.” Bree said as she took one of Gail’s arms.

“Look, there it is! Can you see the shadow?”

“Yes, we see it,” Chad answered as he took her other arm.

Together he and Bree moved Gail closer and closer to the painting until she disappeared into the center—sucked into the Shadow’s world.

The second she vanished, the Shadow appeared between Chad and Bree, who were helping him to populate his kingdom, a kingdom of human slaves to do his bidding.

With their quota finally reached, the three of them smiled as they glanced up to read the title of the painting—Into Another Dimension. Hand-in-hand, they stepped through the portal to their new home.

***

Months later, the new gallery owner stepped up to the single painting left on the walls from the previous owners. “Into Another Dimension,” she read and tilted her head at the image of three grinning shadows in the center of a vortex.
  

THE END


QUESTIONS: What do you think of my mom's flash fiction piece?
What is the weirdest thing that inspired one of your stories?

For me, the weirdest thing that inspired a series of books was a screw. 


You can find my mom's Facebook page HERE.

I'll be reading your comments to her as I they come in. :)