The Second Horseman of the Apocalypse

Silvery flakes drifted down, glittering in the bright light of the harvest moon.  The blackbird was startled off his perch in the old oak tree by the approaching rider, taking off with a flutter of feathers and a disgruntled caw.  The horseman was dressed all in black leather, gleaming at the seams where snow and moonlight collected.  He pushed his steed hard, its breath pillowing about them like fine, spun glass.

At the crossroads the horseman abruptly reined in and the horse skidded to a stop in the middle of the intersection.  Standing in his stirrups, the man turned and looked intently in all directions.  All was calm to the north, west and east but behind him to the south there was an approaching darkness.  The wind bore with it a low grumble, the sound of many voices raised in anguish.  Hearing this, the rider spurred his horse to the west and galloped toward the lights of a small village in the distance. Continue reading “The Second Horseman of the Apocalypse”

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Workshop Flash Fiction – Peter and The Plan

Peter stood frozen, his sock clad toes curling against the linoleum. He could hear the hum of the refrigerator and the laugh track of the TV in the living room. Everything else was quiet. No footsteps. But he better not breathe just yet.

He snuck a peek at Bobby. Bobby had also frozen to the spot, his eyes wide and his arm still reaching forward. It looked like he wasn’t breathing either. Bobby’s eyes drifted towards Peter’s as a drop of snot dripped from his nose. Bobby didn’t even move to wipe it away – they were both too scared to move another muscle. Continue reading “Workshop Flash Fiction – Peter and The Plan”

Beware the Evil Snowman

The snowman grinned malevolently as he watched his prey from the top of the toboggan hill.  This was the longest run in town and the children had chosen its peak as the place for his creation.  But their building had been clumsy and he despised their lack of skill.  His bottom was lumpy.  His middle was full of grass.  And his head was so large and misshapen it threatened to roll right off his shoulders.  But worst of all was his face.  Two stones for eyes.  A small twig for a nose.  And a curl of frozen dog poop for a mouth.  Oh, the indignity! Continue reading “Beware the Evil Snowman”