[Flash Fiction] Blue Fire

First, the fire burned a steel gray, like the cold unrelenting metal around her finger.

Then, the fire turned to amber—not the warm golden that comforted her in Autumn, but a dark rusty yellow that made her think of factories, long abandoned.

Slowly, the fire glowed a rich crimson, until she could feel the heat emanating from its core and threatening to sear her skin. Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] Blue Fire”

The Timer: A 52 Word Microstory

He heard the clicking of the footsteps as if they were a drum pounding the pavement. It was behind him, dressed in a black trench coat and a scarred face. It never spoke a word to him, but he knew.

The timer had started on the rest of his life.



© Jade M. Wong 2017 Continue reading “The Timer: A 52 Word Microstory”

[Flash Fiction] Revenge

Leaning against a metal door, he paused to examine his scorched arm. The fire had eaten through god knows how many layers of his skin. Now that his adrenaline was slowing, he was finally registering the throbbing pain shooting up his arm.

A loud crash followed by a thunderous gust of wind echoed behind him. They were close.

Placing his uninjured hand on the floor, he willed the earth beneath to protect him. Obeying him, the ground cracked open and he jumped into a tunnel. If he was going to die, he would do it on his own turf.

© Jade M. Wong 2016 Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] Revenge”

Sticky Spell: A 52 Word Microstory

“How did you manage to get that”—the party planner pointed to the illuminated tree chandelier hanging above the table—“up there?”

“A sticky spell, duh,” her assistant said.

A loud suction sound filled the dining hall as the tree plopped off the ceiling.

“You mean a sucky spell!”


© Jade M. Wong 2016

Tree Chandelier In Kathryn Hall Vineyard (Image Credit unknown)Submission to Grammar Ghoul’s Shapeshifting 13 #56 Writing Challenge .

Credit for the beautiful featured photo goes to Daniel Cheung

The Purge: A 26-Word Microstory

Thick green globs of algae slithered across the earth, determined to suffocate all human life.

“Years of thievery, destruction, now we’re trapped. Earth is purging herself.”

© Jade M. Wong 2016

In this photo taken Wednesday, July 3, 2013, a Chinese tourist covers himself with seaweed on a beach plagued by an algae bloom in Qingdao in eastern China's Shandong province. (AP Photo) CHINA OUTSubmission to Grammar Ghoul’s Shapeshifting 13 #50. Word Count: exactly 26 words.

Credit for the beautiful featured photo goes to Daniel Cheung

[Flash Fiction] The Case Of The Prejudiced Ghost

“Trey, tell me that’s not a skull.” The grey-haired detective stared at the half-buried cranium and proceeded to smack his partner upside the head. “Do you know what this means?”

“You’re no longer going to the Bahamas?” The young rookie replied, sure that a bruise was forming from all the times he’d been whacked. Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] The Case Of The Prejudiced Ghost”