by Lynn Lipinski | Sep 7, 2014 | Flash Fiction Friday, Writing
The tidy parlor smelled of decay and burning. Hand over her nose, Eustace scanned the floors, furniture and walls for the smell’s source. But the only disorder in her orderly room was the jumble of toys the twins left on the sofa. The boys were gone, but somehow she...
by Lynn Lipinski | Aug 15, 2014 | Flash Fiction Friday, Writing
The cameraman said “rolling” and the red light over the lens glowed. The blond antiques appraiser slid his mirrored compact into his pocket and looked at Howard expectantly. “What did you bring to the show today?” “Train set. My...
by Lynn Lipinski | Aug 8, 2014 | Flash Fiction Friday, Writing
The heavy bass pulsed through my skin, alchemizing my old bones to stretchy, strong muscle. I danced and whirled and spun and slid, my body melting like liquid into the music. Then, silence. Laughter and the sound of high heels on wood floors echoed off of the dance...
by Lynn Lipinski | Aug 2, 2014 | Flash Fiction Friday
I fell into the dirt and dead leaves on the forest floor, banging my right knee on a rock and splintering my palms on rotten wood. I must have bit my lip too, because I tasted blood when I caught my breath. “Are we having fun yet?” Frieda said with a...
