Flash Fiction / Micro Fiction
Length - 100 words each
Three pieces written for the competition theme 'Leap Year'.
__________
Crack in Time
'That's it?' He asked, squinting in the sputtering
torchlight. 'A crack in the wall?' The masked curator nodded. 'What does this
say?' He asked, pointing to the faded glyphs, carved into the rock.
'An
extra day with which to play, but will you go or will you stay?' The curator
shrugged, 'Loosely.'
'And
it works?'
'Yesterday?
No. Tomorrow? No. But today?'
'People
actually travel through time?'
'They
go... somewhere.'
It
was one test of faith too many. He tried to leave, but the old man shoved him
inside. Chuckling, he removed his mask.
'I
always did need a little push.'
__________
Quick Key
'Hey Ryan! Guess what? The computers have been affected
by some kind of leap year virus!'
'Really?'
As he set down his coat he pulled up his keyboard and tried to type. The screen
was unmoving. 'Huh!'
'You
can finally type that horrible email to our beloved boss!'
Ryan
heartily obliged. He looked up to see his pal's face had paled.
'I
didn't know you could do that...'
'Do
what?'
'Quick
key at the end.'
'Really?
We work in IT.'
'I
switched the keyboards...' He said, slowly spinning the monitor from his
adjoining desk around. The screen read 'Message Sent.'
__________
Head on a Spike
He'll have my head
on a spike. 'I'm late for work!'
A
football came rolling out across the bottom step as he descended, and he
vaulted clear by an inch.
'Why?!'
He demanded, shaken.
'It's
leap year.' His young son offered weakly. 'Extra day.'
'It
doesn't work like that.' He said sadly, thinking mostly of himself.
'You'd
rather play with him than me?'
A
sharp pointy sensation at the base of his neck preceded a buzzing of the phone
against his leg. Staring at his teary eyed son, he withdrew it from his pocket...
and threw it across the room!
__________
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