Tag Archives: Flash Story

Yellow –Flash Story Challenge

” A Pale Green Mermaid Blog “

A yellow canoe passed by

filled with presents wrapped and tied in bows

two polished wood seats reflected  the hot sun

I watched as it drifted into the noon day heat


“Who does that canoe belong to?”

A yellow canoe passed by…..


Touring canoe via wiki

Write a ditty about your life, a slice of life.….




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Flash Story Challenge ! Bells In The Forest

” A Pale Green Mermaid Blog “


Pam looked to the side of the path she was on in her local forest of choice and noticed a tiny fairy sitting on a rock doing her nails.  At least it appeared to be a fairy.  It had transaparent wings that fluttered every so often. It had a pink jacket on and maroon velvet pants. The shoes it wore were gold and curled up ending with a silver bell that tinkled as it recrossed it’sr legs. Pam stopped walking to get a better look. when ….. 


You finish the story in 200 words or less-

Good Luck!!


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Monday Night Flash Story Challenge

” A Pa;le Green Mermaid Blog “

Finish the story below it can be one sentence or 15 more, you decide!


It was a dark and stormy night…. Julinda opened the balcony window.
“Julinda Julinda,  a bouquet for you. “

She looked around but saw nothing.  Maybe she was hearing things.  She stepped out on to the edge of the rail looking for the eclipse promised at midnight.

” Julinda Julinda, here down here.

She stretched her head out looking below…..

Now read no further and write what happened next


My version

sure enough there was a hand with a bouquet of roses .

She said, ” I can’t see you please lean out from your balcony.

A brown-eyed man appeared wearing a tweed cap and holding a martini in his other hand.

” I’ve admired you from afar from afar.  Julinda here catch, ” and with that he threw the roses up.  They flew past her head then as they passed back down she reached out, but missed  catching a few petals in her hand.

” Sorry, ” she muttered.

” That’s alright, I will try again tomorrow.” With that he poured himself another martini from a pitcher he had and disappeared under her balcony.

“Hmmm ,”she said.  Then the corner of her eye caught the beginning of a blue moon eclipse.  She watched in wonder thinking the world can be a strange but – interesting place.


PEACE and Happy writing…..



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Mini-Flash Story

” Someone tried to shut my blog down,” she said.

” Honestly? ” He said.

” That means I’m making a difference in this world,”  she said slitting her eyes…

” My voice is being heard.” 

She closed the book and locked the door.



A nation of well informed men who have been taught to know and prize the rights which God has given them cannot be enslaved. It is in the region of ignorance that tyranny begins.

Image Courtsey of Google

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Mission Impossible – Flash Story

 ” A Pale Green Mermaid Blog “



DEAD BOOKS – Dead Thoughts


” She took off her trench coat and shoved the banned book under her danskin, watching  so the pages were securely enmeshed in the netting pocket she had made.  Dust from the stack fell down on her damp coat  making her look like a powdered donut…she texted Rasputin,

” Meet me at the 39th street exit.”

 He was there spewing smoke from his 30-year-old mercedes, she hopped in and they lurched off to the local java hut near the forest of monasteries, her father’s singular tome safe again, awaiting reprinting – and life.





Please send your tome to the comments section!!!


Update any word count OK!!!


From www.ala.org below,

Banned Books Week: Celebrating the Freedom to Read

September 25−October 2, 2010

Banned Books Week (BBW) is an annual event celebrating the freedom to read and the importance of the First Amendment.  Held during the last week of September, Banned Books Week highlights the benefits of free and open access to information while drawing attention to the harms of censorship by spotlighting actual or attempted bannings of books across the United States.

Intellectual freedom—the freedom to access information and express ideas, even if the information and ideas might be considered unorthodox or unpopular—provides the foundation for Banned Books Week.  BBW stresses the importance of ensuring the availability of unorthodox or unpopular viewpoints for all who wish to read and access them.

The books featured during Banned Books Week have been targets of attempted bannings.  Fortunately, while some books were banned or restricted, in a majority of cases the books were not banned, all thanks to the efforts of librarians, teachers, booksellers, and members of the community to retain the books in the library collections.  Imagine how many more books might be challenged—and possibly banned or restricted—if librarians, teachers, and booksellers across the country did not use Banned Books Week each year to teach the importance of our First Amendment rights and the power of literature, and to draw attention to the danger that exists when restraints are imposed on the availability of information in a free society.

Banned Books Week is sponsored by the American Booksellers Association; American Booksellers Foundation for Free Expression; the American Library Association; American Society of Journalists and Authors; Association of American Publishers; and the National Association of College Stores.  It is endorsed by the Center for the Book in the Library of Congress.

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Wednesday / Mid-week Flash-Serial Story For The Workers Of The World

” A Pale Green Mermaid Blog “


Hello workers! Today I will be starting a serial – episodic – flash story, another words  a story that unfolds in a serial fashion as ” The Shadow” did in the 1940’s radio show.


Presenting… ” Black “


 The sun shone hard over the horizon.  Its shape was egglike and puffy.  I pulled on my green rubber boots and decided to head south to avoid the network of triangular shaped UFOs that had landed in the fields north of my estate.  There were about forty of them, during the night, flying in perfect formations that sent a red glow over the landscape.

Sweat careened down my spine.  It was ninety-five degrees, yet only slightly past seven in the morning.  I grabbed my binoculars, compass, sunglasses and video.  Cutting through the marshes and swamps I could probably avoid encountering them until I was ready to start filming.

What a week this had been.  Between Neil breaking his arm, the water pump burning out and my editor returning a recently submitted manuscript covered with edit marks – I was ready to embark on one of those UFOs and head to Neptune myself.

The sightings had become quite common in New York.  My farm was fifty miles from the border between New Jersey and Pennsylvania separated by a thin ribbon of water, the Delaware river.  No contact had been reported between the government and the ‘visitors” as the press was referring to them in print.    The tabloids were having a field day.  One of their usually less than credible stories had actually come true.  No one knew where they came from or their intentions.

Maybe it was an interstellar fly over a huge beautiful overwhelming display of their best bag of technical wizardry.  At least that was the theory I clung to. 

Now  where was my … oh, there it is.  Time to move while the heat is still bearable but not yet oppressive.  Pools of condensation formed in my boots, trickling around toes that grasped orange flip-flops.

” You’d better get going, Artell, if you expect to make it back before Sara and Peter arrive,” Neil said as he poured himself some cold coffee from last night’s party.  ” You know they’ll be disappointed if you are not here when they arrive, and for heaven’s sake be careful.”

” Don’t worry, I’ll be back before noon – if everything goes as planned.”

Artell loaded the items in her backpack  and walked to the purple jeep, which they had bought at a sale of military surplus.  Of course, it wasn’t purple when they bought the jeep, Artell’s niece, Sara, had begun painting a purple dragon on it one day and they just continued the process to its natural conclusion.  She started up the engine  expecting the usual sputtering and lurching, but to her surprise – it was smooth. Giving Neil the thumbs up, she drove off down the mile long driveway which streched  to a dirt road and then the super highway.


To be continued…



Serials in television and radio are series that rely on a continuing plot that unfolds in a serial fashion, episode by episode. Serials typically follow main story arcs that span entire seasons or even the full run of the series, which distinguishes them from traditional episodic television that relies on more stand-alone episodes.   From Wikipedia

The Shadow
Shadow Death From Nowhere.jpg

“Who knows what evil lurks…?”
The Shadow as depicted on the cover of the July 15, 1939 issue of The Shadow Magazine. The story, “Death From Nowhere,” was one of the magazine plots adapted for the legendary radio drama.

Publication information
Publisher Street & Smith
Condé Nast
First appearance Detective Story Hour
(July 31, 1930)[1] (radio)
The Living Shadow
(April 1, 1931)[1] (print)
Created by Walter B. Gibson
In-story information
Alter ego Kent Allard (print)
Lamont Cranston (radio and film)
Notable aliases Lamont Cranston (print)
Abilities Skilled marksman and martial artist. Master of disguise and stealth. (print)
Able to make himself nearly invisible to the naked eye, can alter and control a person’s thoughts and perceptions. (radio)

From Wikipedia

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Mid-Week (It’s Almost Friday) Flash Story – For The Workers Of The World

” A Pale Green Mermaid Blog “




There was no clear distinction between earth and heaven, the two converged in a black velvet soup of heavy night air.  The only tell tale signs to balance your equilibrium were reflections of moonlight on the black pounding water and flickers of unknown planets and stars in the equally black besotted sky.  Such a feeling of majesty.  Sandpipers skipping and swooping above the waves were the only quiet reminder that this was not a primordial moment in time.


The End


Image from Wikipedia

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Metaphors Writing and Murder Mysteries (Flash Story)

“A Pale Green Mermaid Blog”


My attempt at a murder mystery,



 She walked past the tobacco store. She was sure it was him. She followed him into the desert…


The ice cold dark metal chilled her fingertips. He was walking away – ‘Not very nice to shoot without seeing the whites of his,’ – Bang!  He tried to turn around but the bullets kept hitting him.  ‘Oh’, she thought ‘ it is an automatic,’ – her fingers tensed tighter around the chamber as the gun snapped up into the air.  She worked hard to steady her arms.  1 ,2 ,3 ,4 ,5 ,6 ,7 , click, click.  The chamber was empty.  Each bullet hit a different part of his body, his shoulder first, his ribs next, she could hear the cracks, they sounded like that whole pig that was barbecued last 4th of July, when the chef pulled the ribs from the bulk of the animal’s body… then the hip – that is when he tried to turn around but his spine arched – his legs buckled and he eased onto his knees.   Crack – the final bullets sliced into his body now lying flat on the ground.

Clear blue smoke drifted from the gun.  She still held the weapon straight out – arms in front of her.  Lifting the base of her hand off the gun she saw a huge white blister in her palm.  “Ouch,” she let go of it, quietly tossing it over her shoulder, walked to his body and kicked it.  There was no movement.

“It had to be done.”  Reaching into her pocket she checked the departure time of the flight, removed the yellow blue striped gloves, throwing them into the  campfire flaming next to her red paisley heels.  They caught fire easily.  Turning she opened the door of her hybrid.  She caressed the side of her face catching a torn nail in the back of her pony tail, she stopped, then pulled the white ribbon out of her hair and tossed it into the fire waiting to watch it burn into the sand.  Circles of smoke floated up into the sky forming the pattern of a rose.  She suffocated the embers out.

 The End


Well, mostly murder not alot of mystery!  The metaphor in the story is him  – the male character,which represents not a person, but an idea, an expectation, a way of thinking that the writer wants to let go of,  i.e . kill.    

Check out  the Lemon Lizard Lounge in the Blogroll, now they knew how to write!


Wishing you artistic expansion and peace!


 (Experimental use of a metaphor)


Metaphor(from Latin metaphoria; see the Greek origin below) is a figure of speech and or phrase that one word as being or equal to a second object in some way. This device is known for usage in literature, especially in poetry, where with few words, emotions and associations from one context are associated with objects and entities in a different context. It compares two subjects without using ‘like’ or ‘as’.

Compared to simile, the metaphor takes us one step further that the simile. Instead of asking us to picture one thing as being like another, the metaphor asks us to picture one thing as being the other.

The term derives from Greekμεταφορά (metaphora), or “transference”[1], from μεταφέρω (metaphero) “to carry over, to transfer”[2] and that from μετά (meta), “between”[3]+ φέρω (phero), “to bear, to carry”[4].

 From Wikipedia


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