Tag Archives: Micro Fiction

It Can’t Be

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

“She’s in the third room along on the front sir.

“Good work Jones. We know this Goldilocks character is responsible for the Dumpty murder and the massacre of the Bear family and I’d bet my pension she knows what happened to the Gingerbread Man. All we need now is to find out who her boss is. Anybody with her?”

“Yes sir. The owner of the black car parked out front went up to her room five minutes ago. The car’s registered to a Miss Muffet.“

“Miss Muffet! It can’t be. What the hell is the head of MI6 doing here?”


A 100 word story for this week’s prompt over at Friday Fictioneers.

The Last Man On Earth

Apparently I’m the last man on earth.

It would appear that some kind of virus has wiped out mankind – well mankind minus me, that is. There’d been dire warnings about it but nobody had taken a lot of notice, we’d heard it all before. Turns out this one was for real. It was frightening how quickly it happened. You could be walking down the street and literally watch people drop down dead in front of you.

That was two months ago. Since then I’ve travelled around much of Europe. The same scene wherever I go, lots of dead bodies and an eerie silence.

I’ve no idea why the virus left me alone, lucky I suppose, or unlucky, depends how you look at it. I used to believe in God but now, I’m not sure. I’ve got so many unanswered questions. I mean if there is a God then why this? Why has he spared me? What am I supposed to do? Even Adam had Eve, I’ve got nobody.

Keeping myself alive is easy, there’s no shortage of food and drink and I can live wherever I like. The problem is the loneliness. There are only so many conversations you can have with yourself. Every now and again I think I catch a glimpse of someone in the shadows but there’s never anyone there, just my imagination yearning for the impossible.

I’ve started popping into any churches I come across. I’m working on the theory that I should find God in one of them, surely. In desperation I’ve even started talking to him again. In the old days it was something I did privately. Now I do it out loud. Once I used to be reverential now I tell him what I really think and I don’t hold back on the bad language. I just wish he would talk back, get angry even.

Once or twice, when the isolation really gets to me, I’ve been tempted to end it all. At those darkest times I feel as if I’m losing my mind completely. Then I stop and realize that if I go, if I give up, then that’s it, the end of the human race. I can’t let that happen.

So I’ve got no choice really. I’ve started leaving notes in each of the churches that I visit just in case God drops by when I’m not there. I’m hoping that he’s going to give me a sign soon, let me in on his grand plan. There has to be a plan – doesn’t there? I can’t just be the last man on earth. Can I?


Life & Death

It was officially the last day of his life.

It had started much like any other day. A quick jog around the park, stopping briefly for his daily chat with that woman with the ugly dog. Back home he had allowed himself an extra few minutes in the shower, he knew it was going to be a hectic day. He’d arranged for Edith, the lady who cleaned for him, to come in especially early. He wanted everywhere to be looking at its best. The caterers were due to arrive late morning. He hoped he’d taken into account the varying dietary needs of his many guests.

Then there was that damn speech. He wasn’t looking forward to that bit of the proceedings at all. Public speaking had never been a strength of his. He’d been over the thing a hundred times but was still frightened he may have inadvertently missed someone off the list of people he needed to thank.

As soon as the speech was over he’d have a short time to mingle. A few last goodbyes to some of his closest friends, then it would be time to leave. The company he’d hired to carry out the task had come highly recommended and prided themselves on being discreet. At the appropriate time a car would be waiting in the drive and he would quietly slip away.

The party would continue and he would be driven to the local facility where his life would be terminated – at precisely 9.43pm. He had been assured that the process would be both quick and painless. Once he was officially declared dead the authorities would allow a new baby to be born.

As the party at his house drew to an end, somewhere else in the city, another party would be beginning, welcoming the new arrival.





The experiments were not going well. The latest one had lasted barely thirty seconds. The controlled surge of energy had caused the patient to flail around a little, then totally disintegrate.

“Jenkins! I need more bodies.”

“Yes Professor. Straight away, sir.”

“And Jenkins… no more old people, I need younger, fresher corpses.”


Let’s Start Again


He smiled as he remembered the beginning. Six long days he’d toiled, night and day, never stopping. Then, on the seventh day he’d rested and looked down at the  wonderful new world he’d created.  His work was lauded as being truly inspirational. He’d won awards for his ground-breaking ideas, Now, many thousands of years later, he looked down on his creation, horrified at the mess he saw before him. The people he’d put in charge to run the place were failing miserably. He wondered if now might be a good time to wipe it all clean and start again.


Day 15 of my Drabble Project
(100 x 100 word stories in the month of October).
Story 38.

264 Days


I’ve been in here for 264 days. The orderlies say I can go whenever I like but they know I’ll stay. 263 days ago this place was full of people like me, humans, now it’s just me. Most went in the first week, clambering over the unguarded gate, the android orderlies in charge of this place no longer caring who went where. It was not long after that when we heard the screams. Then the food ran out and those left started to die. I’m surviving on the carcass of my roommate but I know it won’t last. Then what?



Day 14 of my Drabble Project
(100 x 100 word stories in the month of October).
Story 37.



The note simply said, ‘Meet me at midnight – usual place.’ I saw Mark in the distance, sat on our park bench under the brightly lit moon. My heart thumped as I ran towards him, eager to begin our new life together. It wasn’t until I reached the bench that I saw the pool of blood around his feet still dripping from a deep gash in his neck. As I stood there, looking down at the man I loved, I heard a familiar voice whisper, “You didn’t really think I was going to let you leave me my darling, did you?”



Day 14 of my Drabble Project
(100 x 100 word stories in the month of October).
Story 35.