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About Deviant Call me Berry or never call me.24/Female/Philippines Group :iconflashfictionmonth: FlashFictionMonth
31 Days, 31 Stories
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Literature
FFM 2017 27: We Feast When the Bones Fall
“The sun is setting!” he screamed as he thundered past. “The beast is coming! Burrow down, the earth will save!”
We shrugged at each other and carried on discussing more important matters: the flavor of tomorrow’s feast, the optimal time to let the stew simmer. Some distance ahead, the local lunatic attacked the ground with a shovel.
“Is the man digging a grave?” we wondered.
“His own,” we decided.
He layered his face with soil before burrowing his arms under. He lay still, praying that the earth above his chest would not betray his hammering heart. He longed to be dirt. Dead.
Boots trampled over him, but he dared not breathe. He strained his ears to hear. Any second now.
The swooping of wings the size of the sky. The shrieks that followed as the villagers were swallowed.
He straightened up at sunrise to head home. He’d scarcely stepped away from the grave when the bones crashed down where he had lain. His stomach turned when
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Mature content
FFM 2017 26: The Amber Gates :iconilyilaice:ilyilaice 0 4
Literature
FFM 2017 25: The Games They Play
You wake up on the floor of an unfamiliar room.
“Are you all right?” says a girl crouching next to you, her green eyes wide with concern. “Looks like you hit your head pretty hard.”
You sit up and rub the lump on the back of your skull. “What is this place?”
“Not sure. Seems like the ground floor of some building. I’ve poked around a bit. There’s no way to get out. No windows either. I found stairs, though.”
There are two people lying next to you, a blond boy and a girl in a blue dress, both of whom are starting to stir. As the green-eyed girl fusses over them, you get up to investigate.
You’re testing the barricaded double doors at one end of the room when the floor beneath you shudders, pitching you backward. You crash against the blond boy.
“What’s going on?” he cries.
Go first!
“Drop, cover, hold!” shrieks the girl in the blue dress.
Red, go first!
“Quiet!” you
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Literature
FFM 2017 24: The End of Gregor Samsa
When I awoke one morning from dreams of flying, I found myself changed into vermin. The remaining four of my limbs were fleshy. Antennae had sprouted all over my head. I crawled out from under the bed, saw my old body twitching atop a pillow. I swallowed it so that we became one once more.
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Laurel and Skye by ilyilaice Laurel and Skye :iconilyilaice:ilyilaice 0 2
Literature
FFM 2017 23: Peppercorn Blitzkrieg
We locked subjects in rooms of induced delirium. The fumes we blew into the vents unspooled their gray matter, brains rewired into unique variants of tropical fruit. We ushered them into an era of nonsense. Our minds were last to go. We shrugged off our lab coats and peppercorn blitzkrieg sneezing rolling pins for breakfast.
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Literature
FFM 2017 22: A Funny Story
PAGE ONE
One page into your one-thousand-page assignment for tomorrow, your eyelids begin to droop. You hunt for coffee in the fridge, but the shelves are spick-and-span.
To visit the nearest 7-11 for rations, turn to page two.
To stay in the safety of your home, turn to page four.

PAGE TWO
But it’s the outside world. Who knows what monsters prowl the streets?
You sure you want to leave?
If you’re sure, turn to page eight.
If you’ve changed your mind, turn to page four.

PAGE THREE
You plug in your earphones, stuffing the jack into your coat pocket. Bobbing your head, you walk briskly past your acquaintance.
Once you’re safe back home, you begin to laugh. Oh the ridiculous things you do to survive! You really should write them down. Perhaps you’ll even share them online.
To translate your day into a funny story, turn to page twelve.
To refrain from immortalizing your humiliation, turn to page six.

PAGE FOUR
You decide to stay home. Arme
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Literature
FFM 2017 21: Like Wading into Jell-O
What starts as a Fun Run at the university academic oval turns into a sprint, singlet sticking to your back. When you cross the finish line, the loudspeaker booms: Runner # 502, of 502 total runners, has finally finished the marathon. We repeat, Runner # 502 . . . You’re in last place? Your lungs and face begin a headlong race — which can combust faster? Girls in cream-and-navy uniforms laugh at you from the bleachers. Humiliated, you hurtle off the path, only to collide with a street vendor fanning the offerings of her kiosk. In the confusion of knees and elbows that follows, a saucepan is upended. You manage to evade the shower of sizzling oil and squid balls, but the vendor isn’t as lucky — she lies burbling on the concrete. You should help her, but what can you do? You must run, or else. Or else they will catch you.
Calves screaming bloody murder, you scramble over the impossibly steep stairs of the northwestern edge of the Great Wall. Every st
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Literature
FFM 2017 20: Fine Dining with Antoine
“Monsieur, Madame, the hors d'oeuvre is served.”
Merci, Nolan. Oh, this is divine, and even better paired with the wine. It’s intoxicating — rose petals with notes of metal. I’ve never had anything like it. Dear, you must take a sip.”
“I can’t stop digging into the appetizer myself. A twist of taragon. Butter dissolving on the tongue. Is this perhaps tuna tartare?”
The man’s fingers groped at the silk of his blindfold, but Nolan hurried behind his seat to secure it.
“I beg your pardon, Monsieur, but the policy dictates that patrons must be kept in the dark for all three courses.”
“I understand. Now will you bring out the main course before my curiosity gets the better of me? Pray tell Antoine that he’s outdone himself this time.”
“Very good, Monsieur.”
From the kitchen, Nolan could hear the couple singing praises for the gelatinous texture of the sliced olives. Tha
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Literature
FFM 2017 19: Solidity of Shadows
When the sun goes down, I travel from one end of the world to the other to envelop you in my embrace. But you hurry away from me every night, seeing bad intentions where there are none. You think that my arrival is a herald for worse things to come. You shut the front door in my face and flick switches that throw yellow bombs to keep me out.
Keeping to the shadows, I creep into our home. I’ve only come to play, but the children cry when they see my face. They think my limbs have teeth. They call for you to soothe them and you do, ignoring my presence in the room. You tell them not to worry — I will be gone by morning. I don’t disagree, but why do you turn them against me?
The horizon is turning pale, and so I must fade. Perhaps there is someone out there who’ll need me, someone who won’t look away. I try to fool myself this way, but you know, and I know, that I’ll be back for you tomorrow. Remember this: I am with you even when I don’t surround
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Literature
FFM 2017 18: A Pistol in the Safe
I am surveying the paintings adorning the living room walls when a guy carrying groceries bursts through the front door. When he sees me standing there, he cries out, the paper bag jerking in his hands and sending a giant can of tuna rolling to the floor.
“Sorry for barging in,” I say at once. “Don’t worry, I’m a police officer. I was out patrolling when I saw the front door wide open. Came to tell you off — it’s dangerous in this neighborhood. But a quick look told me it was burglary.”
“Burglary?” the guy repeats. He sets down his groceries and looks around the room. “My laptop’s missing. And my DSLR. And. . . .” His voice trailing off, he turns to me, his eyes wide. “Officer, is there a chance he’s still in the house? You said he left the door open.”
I shake my head. “I’ve checked. There’s no one here but us.”
He furrows his brows. “Did you see Fluffy?”
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Literature
FFM 2017 17: Hide and Sleep
“How long will we be stuck here?” Mabel moaned. “I’m bored to death.”
“Why don’t we play hide-and-seek?” suggested Flor, the eldest. Mabel shrieked and clapped in delight. Solitaire diamonds billowed out as Addie leapt up mid-shuffle to volunteer to be “it.” Beth didn’t even glance up from her novel. She finished a paragraph, folded down the corner of a page, then finally put down the book before placidly looking up at her sisters.
“Shall I start counting?” asked Addie.
“Hang on,” said Flor. “Where’s Grace?”
“Probably in the attic again,” said Mabel. “Forget about her. She never plays with us anymore.”
Before Flor could protest, Addie cupped her eyes with both hands then whirled around to face the wall. “One hundred. Ninety-nine. Ninety-eight.”
The one good thing about the summer house was that it boasted endless nooks and crannies. The three s
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Literature
FFM 2017 16: His Dollhouse
From the beginning, he did what he wished with his dollhouse. He stripped the dollhouse of its roof and planted the dolls in various rooms. Each room had a selection of doors. The dolls would survey the doors then choose which to open. Some dolls charged through doorways at once. Some paced the room before making their choice. Some never left their original room at all. Once a door was closed, it could never be used by the same doll again.
The next day, he planted puzzles in certain rooms of the dollhouse. The rooms with puzzles often opened up to larger and grander rooms. Most puzzles only took a few tries. But other doors tantalized with puzzles impossible to solve. Some dolls never stopped trying, never moved on. Other dolls gave up and opted for other doors.
The next day, he picked up a doll and pulled off its leg. He set it down again in another room. As for another doll, he pulled off both its arms. Some dolls he weighed down with pouches of pebbles on their backs. He watched as
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Literature
FFM 2017 15: Kids That Go Bump in the Night
I opened my eyes to find I’d tumbled into Wonderland. Could this be where the missing cogs had gone? As I pondered, I reached into the side pouch of my backpack to stick what I craved between my teeth. Lucky I had the foresight to pack the french fries I couldn’t finish for lunch. They were soggy. I preferred them that way.
I examined the pastel cobbled streets for the telltale glint of metal. The stones yielded nothing.
I could not linger here. It was a school night. In my haste to cross over to Sandman’s domain, I’d neglected to study for the math quiz tomorrow. I doubted I’d be the only one. During recess, my classmates whispered constantly about the recurring dreams. Nightmares that looped like broken clocks, driving their dreamers to madness. I was determined to make sense of this madness.
I knew the cogs must be the answer. I was the type to doubt everything, even my own dreams. I did not fear the monsters under my bed — they feared me, for I h
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Literature
FFM 2017 14: Bit Character
Listen, I’m just a regular guy like anyone else, I keep a stiff upper lip, but I can’t help reminiscing ’bout the good old days now and then. The thing is, I didn’t think my good old days would be spent at the ACA Video. Back then I thought of it as my personal purgatory, a stopover to my ultimate destination, wherever that might be. I read Sherlock Holmes under the desk and harbored a secret hope that each ping of the door signalled the entrance of the first victim in a series. I pictured messages written in blood, the words cut short by Death himself. Never mind that it would be my sorry ass mopping the blood off the floor. I’m sure cleaning the crime scene beats reading about it.
Okay, spoiler alert, I never met a murder victim at the ACA Video. But I did meet the second best thing, three protagonists of stories yet to be written. Three kids whom I privately called Amaia, Brianna, and Chelle, even though their dad said their names often enough, o
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Literature
FFM 2017 13: Doll Devourer
Red dress, red lips — she kills me every time. Leaning back against the wall, she exhales a stream of smoke and flicks her wrist to examine her watch. What is she waiting for? More to the point, what am I waiting for?
Trev throws his arm over my shoulder, the beer can in his hand clanging against my breastplate. “Tell me,” he slurs, “when’s the knight gonna talk to his lady?”
I shrug off his arm. “Watch it. This shit’s heavy enough without you slobbering over it. And Jules doesn’t even know I exist.”
“Course she does.” Trev lifts his Pokémon cap to ruffle his hair before clapping it back on. “She invited you, didn’t she?”
“She invited the whole Philo class. I just happened to be there.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell me ahead of time if you won’t be needing a ride back. You don’t want the Doll Devourer gutting you, do you? Besides, you’ll literally have to roll down the
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ilyilaice
Call me Berry or never call me.
Philippines
Status: Law student, sporadically present.
Contact: blackydano@gmail.com

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