She told me her name was Moon Shadow and she was a Wishmaker from the Far Edges of the Astral Planes in a universe unlike mine.
Later, I discovered she was called Gladys and she fried fish in a chippy in Grimsby.
But one night with her forever changed me.
…
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Bruce Arbuckle (felt.buzz)
‘
If ever a bar looked like it’s owner it was Papa Bear’s.
Back in the day Papa looked like a grizzly.
Now, his legendary thick brown curls were grey, thin and lacklustre. His once-bearded face, pockmarked, gaunt and jaundiced.
The only imposing thing about him was his beer belly.
…
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Find my 100 word tales on Felt.Buzz Writes
Bruce Arbuckle (felt.buzz)
As soon as the words “Email sent” appeared on the screen he realised his mistake.
So stupid.
Had he wanted to get caught?
Perhaps it’s for the best. With it out in the open they could finally work things out.
Who was he kidding?
She was going to kill him.
…
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My Humpbuckle Tales are always published first on Hive
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Bruce Arbuckle (felt.buzz)
A fifty-word story written using the Freewrite prompt on Hive.
It was supposed to be a romantic weekend getaway.
No kids.
Just us.
Why did I trust him to make the reservation?
“Only one room left,” the receptionist said. “Sorry.”
Bunk beds.
Not even two singles we could push together.
And we had to share with a family of four.
…
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My Humpbuckle Tales are always published first on Hive
Find my 100 word tales on Felt.Buzz Writes
Bruce Arbuckle (felt.buzz)
Both these 50-word stories were inspired by the Freewriters writing prompt on Hive “drinking and talking”
Like old times, they spent the night drinking and talking.
So much had changed.
They drank tea, now, not whisky.
And the desire that had almost destroyed both their lives had waned.
They promised they wouldn’t leave it so long, but they both knew they’d never see each other again.
…
They spent the rest of the night drinking and talking.
As the light of day filled the room, however, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the elephant in the room.
Especially after it took a dump on the sofa.
“We should probably take it back to the zoo,” she said.
…
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A demonic monkey playing a drum solo on the tin roof dragged him from sleep.
Rain!
He leapt out of bed, checking for leaks in the places he’d already repaired, placing pans and pots beneath new ones.
The children, undisturbed by the cacophony, and his water containment dance, slept on.
There it was!
The old man hadn’t lied after all. The portal pulsated and hummed at the back of the cave.
The sound of thudding boots echoed through the caverns behind her.
Time to go.
She ran through the doorway to other dimensions, her world exploding in colour and sound.
…
She stares at me.
I hold her gaze, unblinking.
I don’t like her.
And, sure as hell, she hates my guts.
Her mean ugly acidic words burn me.
I blink first.
I always do.
I turn off the bathroom light and the other woman fades ghost-like into the darkness.
…
On our way to school a large house sulks behind a chain linked fence.
A smartly-dressed lady sits in the garden, surrounded by weeds.
I often raise my hand in greeting.
She never waves back.
Bill says she’s a witch.
Or maybe a ghost.
I think she’s just sad.
…
“I’m an apha male.”
He’s serious, she realises.
Keeping a straight face she asks what that means.
“You know,” he says. “A hunter gatherer type.”
She imagines him stumbling through a forest following animal tracks and laughter escapes her.
“You can’t even find what you’re looking for in the fridge!”
Humpbuckle Tales 