What money can’t buy… by Jamie Thrasivoulou

I paid them good. Easy-earned dishonest cash, the kind they were used to. With both of them on one bed, at my disposal- the odds were uneven, but I could cope with that. One blonde and one redhead seemed like a mismatch I could cope with. I had them do everything money could buy. They ate each other out and sucked each others tits for hours. But there was one thing I couldn’t get them to do- kiss.

Prompt: Same-Sex kissing

Pissed by Sarah Grace Logan

They’re drunk; too drunk. Sand swallows them up, their spread-eagled
limbs sinking into the warm, gritty mattress. Water laps at their toes
like the tongue of a cat. It lifts their empty bottles and drags them
over the shale.

Jake gets onto his knees, fumbling his fly. “Shit,” he mutters. “Shit.”
“Give over,” Martin says, laughing as he reaches for Jake and flips
the buttons loose. “Yer piss’ead.”

Jake fumbles it out, turns away from Martin and lets out a long sigh
of relief. “Finally,” Jake murmurs.

The wind picks up and throws sea spray at Martin’s face. His closed
eyes flicker, but it’s nice, and he’s too comfortable to wipe it away.
Jake giggles. “Sorry ‘bout that. Aimed into the wind.”

The Pit of Your Stomach Drops Out by Great Central Dental

It had now started stinging, she looked down at her finger and could see the red raw of underlying dermis just below the nail bed where she had been biting for the last ten minutes. She took another deep breath and tried to slowly release it but she could hear it come out rather shakily. I hate that song she thought as it played out tinny across the waiting room. She glanced around her acutely aware of her heart beating in her throat which was getting drier by the minute. The butterflies were now intensifying becoming huge moths in her mind, flapping their ugly grey wings in her tummy. She felt sick and panicked even more at thought of spewing her guts out into the middle of the waiting room floor in front of all these strangers, all looking equally nervous. If only she had looked after her teeth better.

The Girl Pool by Helena Nolan

Men meet at the urinals. They have always done this, even when the urinals were trees. Or bushes. Or a river, whatever. Some of the world's greatest impromptu meetings have happened at the urinals. Girls don't do urinals. And after the age of seven, we don't tend to take turns peeing with the stall doors open either. The public intimacies of the Greek and Roman Baths are long gone, no more communal grooming. Beauty Salons these days are hushed corridors with private rooms; speaking is not encouraged in the relaxation zone; changing rooms are places for bent heads and averted eyes, or curtains. There is no female space for conversation. Even at work, they have had to invent mentoring and networking. So, Cathy decided to create The Girl Pool. It would be a new kind of club, one where the women would get out of their daily disguises of make-up and clothes, where they would sit, bare-skinned, in a hot tub and just talk. No mirrors. It would break the mould, give women that shot at the naked interaction that was a part of every man's day to day ritual, whether he realised it or not. She had bought the secondhand hot tub for a song on eBay. Women were going to throng to The Girl Pool; it would be the hottest, coolest, new business in town and soon Cathy would be the talk of the nation. But first, she needed to find a plumber.

Choices by Jamie Thrasivoulou

All of his friends understood the consequences of his decision. They were also pretty sure that Joseph would grasp the importance.

Such a simple message: A message that nonetheless, would be extremely difficult for a corpse in a wooden-box to comprehend. As the Vicar read out his eulogy and the curtains drew back, everybody in the room understood- the necessity of wearing a seatbelt.

Prompt: Fasten your seatbelt

The End by Janet Devereux

Sammy the snail moved to edge of the kerb, slow, slow, slow, slow, slow.

“I’d like to cross the road,” he murmured to himself.

“Why do you want to cross the road,” asked the thrush looking for his breakfast.

“To get to the other side of course”, replied Sammy.

 “You’re too slow to catch a cold” said the thrush.

“Who’d want one anyway? asked Sammy just before thrush pecked him out of his shell.

Sound by Sarah Grace Logan

The magpies chatter like gunfire. A rusty hinge screeches across his mind with the fury of a bandsaw. The ragged breathing of the couple next door, bed knocking against the wall like an angry fist on the door. The TV dead channel roars, bus exhausts choke like a volcano belching, children outside scream like harpies.

He pulls the new device out of his ear and shakes his head. “I’d rather be deaf,” he says with his hands.

MEDICAL OPINION ON EFFECTS OF A WRITING STRIKE By JADE

          Recently there  has been a suggestion made that there should be a writing strike all over the civilised world.  Writers everywhere feel that their work is not appreciated, so a withdrawal of their labour is now being planned.

          This action will have serious psychological effects.   Compulsive readers will be devastated when there is nothing anywhere for them to read.  They will go into a panic, when they realise that they’re going to have think some original thoughts.  This panic will manifest itself in wide staring eyes, beads of sweat on their foreheads and parched mouths.

They will be unable to settle down to any work, they won’t want to eat and they’ll be unable to sleep. 

          This psycho-symptomatic illness will drive them in their dozens to consult their G.P.s.  The G.P.s. will then also start panicking – how are they going to help these stricken patients?

And, don’t forget, many of these doctors may also be compulsive readers.

          Government action will now have to be taken and a State Declaration immediately brought into force.   This will compel everyone to immediately approach their nearest writers, to tell them that they have always enjoyed reading the work of the writers, and to assure them that their writing will never be taken for granted again.

          In addition the last day of each month will be declared National Appreciation of Writers Day  On this day all writers will be pampered in whatever way they wish, thus ensuring that they know they will always be wanted to help to keep the World turning.

   

The first kiss by Sarah Grace Logan

I’d invited you into my bed. I don’t know how I could do that, it was
only the second time we’d met, but I already knew you deep down.
“Nothing has to happen,” I whispered, touching your hand. “Let’s just
go to sleep.” We looked at each other across the pillows. You refused
to sleep without your glasses. I had the yawning in my stomach of
falling.

Then we kissed.

Let the Write-in Begin!

Welcome, friend. Come in, sit down, can we pass you a glass of something foaming, or maybe a mug of something warm?

Gather yourself by the fire. Here, have this pen, this notebook. We are here to write, I assume you mean to join us. Never fear, inspiration is never far away. We have over 200 little nudges to help you along, all listed below. Choose whichsoe'er ignites your brain, and let it flash upon the page or screen.

And then, when you have written, send your story through the ether to nffdwritein@gmail.com and we shall add it to the scroll of stories unfolding on this National Day of Fictions-Flash. But be warned, you only have until three of the clock on this British summer's day. So be swift and bold.

Here, brave writer, are your prompts:

The Day The World Ended	Kill Your Own
Folly	Soft Voices
A Tentative Tangling of Tendrils	Help The Poor, Buy Shit
Letter from a Pre-med	Gun Control
Bug Fights	Pissing In The Wind
Vice President In Charge of Volcanoes	Curator
Secret Agent X-9	Glitch
Protein	Personal Hygiene
The Jumping off place	Fear Of Success
Merry Christmas	Experimentation, Addiction, Control
Back To Kindergarten	Easy Monthly Repayments
The Girl Pool	Sub/Dom
The Most Valuable Commodity on Earth	Leaf Blower
No More Mud	Pets
The Last Batch Of Brownies	Nice Earring Fucktard
What God is	Pretty
Men from Mars	Internal Bleeding
Mayonnaise	Wear The Mask
Only Sleeping	Where Were You?
Another Breed	3/4 Timing
Dynamite Money	Stop Motion Animation
An Ungrateful Man	The Classics
Hobby Shop	Spare cheese
Miaow	Hot Cops 4: Making Bail
Bicycles for Afghanistan	Just say yes
The Demonstrator	Jam
Communist Sympathizers	The Amazing Onion
Why Americans Are Hated	Nicotine Nick
Dynamic Tension	Face of Jesus found in sock
A Nice Midget	Time crouch
No Pain	Cocaine pancakes
Communists, Nazis, Royalists, Parachutists and Draught Dodgers	No cake for racists
Never Index Your Own Book	Pretzel dreams
The Queasy Dream	Moose kebab
Tyranny With A Difference	Agatha Ravenfarm
Fasten Your Seat Belts	Smells like a good idea
Reverent and Free	Second-hand doughnuts
Peace and Plenty	One tickle away from a sex crime
The Strongest Thing There Is	Otter pilgrim
A Big Mosaic	Do the hustle
The Happiness Of Being An American	Y.M.C.A.
Black Death	Jenny
Cat's Cradle	Welcome to sheeptown
Aspirin	Bond’s secret
Everything Is Meaningless	Decisions, decisions
Ring Of Steel	My to do list
The Waterfall Strainers	My favourite time of day
A Break Even Point	Why…
Blackout	Springtime
Two Little Jugs	Born this way
Why Frank Couldn't Be President	Born in the U.S.A.
Only One Catch	Hand twin
Mona	“Good friends or lesbians?”
The Highest Mountain	Do you know?
I See The Hook	Lies and other lives
Bell, Book and Chicken in a Hat Box	B-Ikea
The Stinking Christian	Dragon toga
Last Rites	Light bulb
Like My Predecessors	Nothing but a hound dog
Enemies Of Freedom	Farmer John
A Medical Opinion On The Effects Of A Writer's Strike	Be the change
Pain-Killer	Blue sky thinking
Feast You Eyes!	Outside the box
The Fourteenth Book	Houndini
Time Out	Troll 3D
History	Back to the near-future
When I Felt The Bullet Enter My Heart	Don’t have a cow, man
As It Happened	Throwing shapes
Sanctuary	Crosskeys
To Whom It May Concern	The devil has shining eyes
I Am Slow To Answer	Sky’s the limit
Frank's Ant Farm	Nice trilby
The Tasmanians	How I Met Your Mother
Soft Pipes, Play On	The end
Tearing Up Contracts	In the beginning
My Relationship With Electronics	Cake hunter
Blood On The Easel	Reunion
Electronic Music	Wonderful phrase
Takeaway Food	Being human
Sleeping In The Afternoon	Dr. Kerr & the Flashnificents
Unexpected Sex	The smell of old books
When Drunk I Feel...	The smell of fresh cut grass
If I Had A Tattoo It Would Be...	The smell of salt-sea rime
Attack! Attack! Defend! Defend!	The smell of warm bread
8-Bit Video Games	A cherry twist
Same Sex Kissing	Bubbles up your nose
Intravenous Drug Use	Sand scrunching between toes
Spending Time With The Family	The pit of your stomach drops out
Vandalising Phone Boxes	The magpies chatter like gunfire
Late Night Walk Home	A car engine chokes
If I Made My Own Religion	The clock stops ticking
Drinking On The Towpath	Floor dusted with flour
Fighting Dogs	Fingerpainting
Let Them Down Gently	Liquor burning in the throat
This Sun Is Not Our Friend	The first kiss
Minger	Taste of medicine
Drowning	Lamb
Happy Ending(S)	Beer
Nervous Tick	Italian
Start Again	Knockwurst
Blank Pages	Krakowska
Cumberland	Chorizo
Bockwurst	Merguez
Bratwurst