Ten Minute Tales

Looking for a quick read during lunch or a before-bed escape? These ten minute tales (also known as "flash fiction") are a blend of genres, moods, stories and emotions.

  • Soul Mates

    I mute my phone and shove it into my pocket, next to my lipstick and the extra pencils I keep to hold my blond, messy bun in place. “Rebecca?” He’s early, and he materializes so quickly that I fall through the dusty brown brick wall behind me. “Oh, sorry! I’m still getting the hang of this!” He reaches across the air to steady me with muscular arms and alarmed green eyes. “It’s okay. I wasn’t paying enough attention. Nice to meet you, Jonah.” His smile is so damn innocent that it almost rivets my eyes away from his broad chest and slim waist. Almost. I can’t help but bite my…

  • Honeymoon

    “I’m so damn sick of hearing about this!” Mariah sighed, exasperated and winded, as they climbed the steep hill. The vast blue ocean below stretched out toward the sky, welcoming the sun as it dipped into the water. A brilliant array of red, yellow and orange hues surrounded a single bright patch of light, near blinding but breathtaking.  She barely noticed. “We can’t keep discussing her, Steven. This is ruining our honeymoon.” “I can’t ignore her Mariah.” As they meandered, he took in the rolling waves, appreciating the glory with which they crashed against the rocks. This was a place of wonder. With the slightest hint of sadness, he clasped…

  • New Hope

    She woke long before her alarm went off, much to her chagrin. Her mind already at a whirlwind, her eyes never left the ticking clock. Each minute brought her closer to a moment she knew would change her, one way or the other, and do so permanently. A hint of daylight edged its way underneath her curtains. Her bladder pressed for her attention. A family of birds sang their early greeting in a nearby tree. Morning was inescapable. Her fingers gripped the edge of a thick, pink comforter, pulling it up to her neck and surrounding her with cotton and warmth. At the movement, Mopsy raised his sleek black head…

  • Beneath the Surface

    Image by Pexels from Pixabay She let the tide bury her feet, then she held still as the salty water washed them clean. The process repeated a dozen times or more; her dry, red eyes focused on her toes as they disappeared and reappeared. She ignored the ache in her right hip, barely noticing it dissipate as the sand beneath her formed a seat. The burn across her neck and shoulders began as a small itch before flaring and setting her skin on fire. She’d stumbled to the shore at dawn, crusts of blood dark brown on her inner thigh. Now, as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, her legs…

  • table with glasses

    Girl’s Night

    Image by Rose McAvoy from Pixabay We sit outside, hoping a breeze will take over when the sun sets, but as it begins its descent, the winds become more still. The fans installed in the corners of the overhang create just enough air to keep us in our seats. We aren’t comfortable, but it will do.  “My mom is still sick.” Amanda says, wiping sweat from her neck before taking the stale ashtray from the table next to us, the memory of something enjoyed and discarded wafting toward me as it passes. Terese subtly shifts to avoid the smoke from Amanda’s cigarette. I don’t mind the fresh smell.  Lauren asks…