Flash Fiction Aficionado -- Preview Issue by W3Enterprises

VOLUME 001

EARLY SPRING EDITION

FLASH FICTION AFICIONADO E A R LY S P R I N G B E A U T Y

Flash fiction Aficionado

CONTENTS 4

WORDS FROM THE EDITOR

CLOWNS RISING

10 THE TRUTH: A LETTER FROM MY MOM 14

THE WIFE

THE BELT

Words From The Editor Thank you so much for your interest in Flash Fiction Aficionado. I created this publication because I saw a very real need in my community for a literary publication dedicated to the exploration of flash fiction as a sub-genre and specialty of fiction. As a child, I could sit for hours on end reading the latest stories in the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes or having my heartbroken by the plight of Oliver Twist; but, at this stage of my life, I find myself strained for time. That’s why having a great source of flash fiction at was important to me. At this point in my life, a magazine like this helps to keep me entertained which is important to me since my schedule is tight. I need a moment to refresh myself and my thinking while remembering the love for reading I developed so many years ago. I have always loved to read and write. It wasn’t until I started my graduate program in Creative Writing that I was first introduced to the world of flash fiction, or “micro-stories”. Before hearing about it, I always thought even short stories has to go on for thousands of words; but, now I see the light. From the moment I realized you can say and become whatever you want in 1,000 words or less, I was hooked. It’s a love that I have since wished I could share with the world. It is my sincerest hope that you will enjoy each of the stories included in this preview issue of Flash Fiction Aficionado. It contains “general works of flash fiction”. Future issues will be themed to ensure the consistency required by publications like this. Be on the lookout for future issues as they arrive quarterly (every 3 months), beginning June 15, 2018 with the debut issue. Always remember to be BRAVE, be BOLD, and WRITE ON! Celeste Williams Editor

Pastel Pink Background PhotoCred: @alwaysutv

Clowns Rising

Clowns Rising By David Whitsell

An Interlude Between Clowns VS. Monkeys I and Clowns VS. Monkeys II

Someone was knocking at the door. Treebole went to see who it was.

“Lord Treebole, I have a message for you.” The white-faced clown who stood before his tapped the envelope repetitively. It is never a good thing to receive a letter from a clown, especially if one is a clown.

Treebole opened the letter and read it to himself. Lord Treebole,

As you may already be aware, the Institute for Exceptionally Evil Clowns was viciously attacked days ago. The life of not a single clown was spared. We believe the monkeys to be the perpetrators. An emergency gathering of all the Clown Lords in North America will be held at our annual chambers at sunset this Wednesday. Your presence is requested. As you may already know, my nephew and our comrade in arms, Lord Gorko, was the chairman of the institute’s council. He, too, was among the fallen. Our race will be avenged! Hail Pennywise! - Lord Neegus Treebole lowered his head as he pondered the ramification of the words in the letter. “Great,” He said as he sarcastically chuckled. He thought he had left all the fighting behind. After the Clown War of 2020, he thought he was done with the bloodshed. “Now, the whole clown militia will be mobilized into action.

“Some of the European lords might even be at the council.” he thought to himself.

Indeed, Treebole had heard of the slaughter at the clown school in Georgia. Every clown in North America had heard of the massacre. So, he knew this action was coming. Nothing like the massacre had ever occurred in the annals of clown history. An entire clown school wiped out... and by monkeys nonetheless. It had been a long time since the monkeys and the clowns tangled.

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Clowns Rising

“I would not be surprised if the entire Kiss Army is called up. I am sure Slipknot Mercenaries will be brought in to handle this catastrophe.” He wondered as any good lord and general would about the carnage that was about to fall on the lands.

Treebole never thought much of the school in Georgia anyway. Red-necked, carnie clowns are how anyone from that school was perceived in the clown community. They smelled like cabbage. Not like burnt black powder and vinegar, which is the typical aroma of clowns; but, it did not matter. A clown is a clown, and many clowns died on August the 8th, which many in the clown community were already calling, “Eighty-Eight”. “Well, Halloween is officially ruined,” Treebole said aloud as he set down the letter.

“Lord Treebole,” said the clown at the door in an inquisitive manner.

“It’s nothing,” said Treebole as he grabbed the old-style seltzer bottle sitting on the table. He quickly sprayed the no-name, errand clown before he said, “That’s for bringing me bad news.” The clown choked on the seltzer water as Treebole slammed the door. Treebole walked to his refrigerator and took out a bottle of Goldschlager schnapps. He twisted off the cap, lifted the bottle up to toast the picture of Pennywise on the wall, then took a giant gulp. After setting the bottle down, Treebole caressed the signet on his left, middle finger. All Clown Lords fashioned their rings upon obtaining lord status. Treebole’s was a serpent-like dragon inlaid in platinum. His hands and fingers were large; but, the ring, accented by tiny blue sapphires was massive on him. A slightly larger blue sapphire set in the middle as the dragon’s eye. Treebole walked to his closet, opened the door, then stooped down. When he stood, he stared at his tricked-out Glock-17 pistol. To himself, he chuckled at the memory of taking this particular pistol out of the cold, dead hands of a pimp in 1992. He then walked over to the full-length mirror in the caboose that functioned as his house. Yeah, that’s right, a caboose. He slid back the slide and clicked the heels of his Ronald McDonald shoes. As he straightened his body, he pointed the Glock at the image of himself in the mirror. As he starred himself down in the mirror, he uttered that infamous line from Public Enemy,

“Bring the noise.”

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The Truth: A Letter From My Mom

By J.C. Writer

Melanie was the most popular girl in school. She was also the meanest. She tormented me every day and not for any usual reasons. She taunted me about the fact that I was being raised by my elderly grandparents. Usually, I was able to play it off or ignore her hurtful comments but today, not so much. Today, it was painful. “How are the mummies that are taking care of you, loser,” she hissed with a menacing smirk. I kept walking, but of course, she followed me and plucked away at my feelings like the strings of a guitar. “Hey, you little Sh*t, how are those cob-webbed relics handling their arthritis?” She chuckled as she insulted the only family I’d ever known. It wasn’t until I felt a spitball hit the back of my head that I realized I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran away once I felt the tears start to stream down my face. Melanie’s raucous and villainous laughter echoed through the hallway like an orchestra out of tune as I trailed off. My escape was a lot easier but longer than I expected. The walk was picturesque and silent. My lack of a cell phone made the journey seem even more silent. I approached my house, and the Japanese maple tree that I loved so much. I used to stare up at those deep burgundy leaves and swing while I thought about how different it would be if my parents were here. How it would be different if my guardians weren’t so old. I entered the house with that thought and was immediately confronted by my Mimaw.

“Catelyn…Catelyn, baby girl, is that you?” she inquired from around the corner.

“Yes, it’s me...I’m going up to my room,” I answered in a sharp tone.

“Wait, why are you home so early? Shouldn’t you be in school,” she interrogated holding her cane as her face became flush. “Yes, Mimaw, I should be in school, but because you and Grandpa are so old I get bullied EVERYDAY NOW!” I said stomping up the stairs and slicing through my Grandmother’s heart like butter. Mimaw stood silently at the bottom of the stairs with a beet red face; she sighed loud enough for me to hear. I had thrown my backpack across the room and into a pile of pastel-colored beanie babies with wide eyes when I heard my Mimaw’s footsteps. My body slumped into my plastic pink computer chair when she walked into my bedroom.

Flash fiction Aficionado

I had thrown my backpack across the room and into a pile of pastel-colored beanie babies with wide eyes when I heard my Mimaw’s footsteps. My body slumped into my plastic pink computer chair when she walked into my bedroom. “Catelyn, First I want to say that your Grandpa and I do not appreciate the comment you made about our ages. But I do understand that it can be hard to accept that your parents couldn’t be here for the most crucial part of your life. And Caty that is why it is the right time to give this to you.” She said pressing an envelope into my lap. I took the envelope that was decorated with little pink and purple flowers and noticed that my name was written in beautiful calligraphy. “Before you read it, I want you to know that it was meant for your eighteenth birthday, but I feel like after your outburst it’s the right time for you to read this. I’ll leave you to it honey,” Mimaw said before leaving the room in her quiet, humble way.

I unfolded the stiff pages of the letter and tears welled up in my eyes as I read: Dearest Child of Mine, If you are reading this, then I have unfortunately passed away before your third birthday. The three beautiful years I got to spend with you were the best of my life. You made everything so much better for me; I want to thank you for coming into my life and making it all worth it. Your presence alone made the pain go away. Your infectious laughter and gorgeous smile together with your need to know how everything worked gave me a new zest for life. That’s what made it hard to leave you. You are the most beautiful of all God’s creations, you are enough, and you are worth all the love in the world. Don’t ever settle for someone who makes you an option in their life if you make them a priority in yours.

Now that I’ve gotten all those things out of the way, I want you to know that I’m sorry. Your Father and I couldn’t be there to help guide you through life, and it breaks my heart. Your Father’s parents were so kind in taking care of you at their age. I hope that as a teenager you aren’t giving them too hard of a time. They’re outstanding people who love you so much. I found out that I was pregnant with you when your father deployed to Afghanistan. I was terrified to go through my first pregnancy alone. But what I wasn’t ready for was the unexpected death of your Father. I loved him so much, and now all I had left were the memories and our daughter who I thought I’d be able to see grow up at least. But after you were born, I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, and I only had at most three years to live. I decided that in those three years I would love you hard and hope that you wouldn’t forget me. You have been through so much without realizing it, my love. I want you to know that as a Bi-racial woman in America it’s already hard and people will be jealous of you. They’ll be upset that you’re prettier or out of reach for their affections. They will even hate that you have your grandparents. Or, they genuinely may want to be you, but you can’t let that stop you from being you. Be happy and treat the people that love you with respect. That’s all you will ever need in this life. Love Always, Mom

The Truth: A Letter From My Mom

Flash fiction Aficionado

by Evan Purcell

The Wife

im and I moved to the cottage because we wanted to be alone. We were in love. God help us, we were so in love.

I was happy then. He was happy then. And, it felt so good to be alone. Jim was handsome, of course. He took good care of me. I don’t know why he changed. Maybe I wasn’t smart enough. Perhaps I didn’t laugh hard enough at his jokes. Or too hard. Maybe I aged badly. I don’t remember what he did to me or when he left. I don’t think it hurt a lot. It was probably over really quickly, too. Still, I hope he felt guilty. I expected new owners to move in. Anybody. I wasn’t picky. If I were going to stay here, it would be nice to see new people. If only for the movement, the distraction. I wasn’t sure if anyone would notice me. Probably not; but hopefully... I waited. I thought if I were patient, someone might find me. Maybe if one of my visitors saw me, I’d move on. I waited. God in Heaven, I waited so long. The windows fell away. Grass poked through the floor. It used to be such a beautiful house. And I was bones. No one came. The roof fell, and so did two of the walls. I could see more of the outside, which was nice.

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I could see all the trees around us. No animals, though. Animals tend to stay away from places like this. Most days, I walked up and down the stairs. Around my old bedroom. Onto the patio. I hummed all the songs I could remember. I couldn’t remember many songs, though. Time just kept going. And now you two are here. Your clothes look strange to me. Torn trousers and funny pictures on your shirts. But, you seem happy. How old are you? 18? 20? Jim and I were that age once. Are you in love? You look in love. Please help me. Feel my presence. See, here I am by the door. Maybe if you know I’m here, maybe I can go. I’m screaming. Can you hear me scream? Please. I’ve been waiting so long. Hello? No... No don’t go... please don’t go! Don’t turn around. Please. Stop that. Please. You’re the first people here in so long. If you leave me, then what will I do? If you leave, I don’t think anybody else will come. This house’s just a shell now. But, it used to be something. I don’t want to be alone anymore.

The Wife

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Samantha didn’t know what she was getting herself into when she decided to work at Mama Tina’s House of Ecstasy. She just needed to make enough money to pay her rent for the next couple of months while she waited to hear back from Coppin State’s Nursing Program. You see, it was her Gramma Fran’s greatest desire that Samantha becomes a nurse since it was one of the many goals she didn’t achieve herself. In the eyes of Gramma: no career was of greater import than nursing. Now that she was gone, it was up to Samantha to keep her dreams alive. Only, this wasn’t what Gramma had in mind for Samantha. She wanted Samantha to go to nursing school after high school. Instead, Samantha moved in with David, her long-term boyfriend. It was there that Samantha was first introduced to struggle. To bring money into their house, Samantha got a job at Mama Tina’s. It was, after all, the only legal brothel in the state of Maryland; and with only one high school diploma between them, someone had to pay the rent. David didn’t want Samantha to work in a brothel. She was his woman and his alone. In his mind, she was alive to be touched by him and only him. Working in a brothel required her to be felt by many men in many ways. Men who were richer than he was. Men who looked better than he did. Men who only wanted to use her worse than he did. As it turns out, Samantha was one of Mama Tina’s most profitable employees.

David never really learned to get used to it; and, the transition was problematic... and abusive. He would often sit outside in front of Mama Tina’s House of Ecstasy and videotape the men going inside. Then, when she got home, he would play back the tape and quiz Samantha on all the details of all the sex she’d had with the each of the men she identified. If she refused to tell him, he would smack her with the back of his fist or bludgeon her over the head with the handle of a cane. If he were furious, he’d beat her along her back with a wooden coat hanger. It became his way of showing dominance in their house since Samantha paid all the bills. All that, the screaming interrogations, the nighttime stalking, came to an end one night in the VIP room of Mama Tina’s House of Ecstasy. When it was all said and done, David lay dead on the floor.

By Celeste Williams

The Belt

Many of the men who visited her House of Ecstasy requested one hour with Samantha. She was easy to “get to know,” and she never fought them for what they wanted while they were with her. No matter WHAT they wanted, she would give it to them, and they loved her for it. Her first week there, she brought home $2,000, cash; and the money only got longer from there.

The Belt

The belt that killed him was still around his neck, while Samantha sat huddled in the corner, shaking. David had become increasingly paranoid in the days preceding his death. It started when he noticed that Samantha wasn’t telling him about her days at Mama Tina’s as he demanded. For about two weeks, he saw that Ali Carpeto, one of Baltimore’s most notorious gangsters, made regular trips to Mama’s. At first, it didn’t bother him; however, when the trips became more frequent… twice a day, in fact, he knew it was because he wanted Samantha. Samantha wasn’t doing anything she didn’t usually do to earn a buck; however, Ali wasn’t like her other johns. He was kind and patient with her. Their first time alone, he asked her what caused her to get into this kind of business and listened to her as she described her financial situation and her goals. Once they finally slept together later that night, the sex was mind-blowing. Ali was mesmerized by her moves and her with his. As she straddled and rode him like a Shetland pony, his eyes rolled into the back of his head with every stroke of her hips. After eighteen visits together, over eight days, their encounters became more than sex. Ali would caress and treasured her body in ways that David never did. In return, she showed him how to cross his pleasure threshold by sucking his dick with Pop Rocks hidden under her tongue and licking his asshole.

The first time she did it, the feeling was so electric that he squealed with delight. Samantha was everything Ali needed. In the months that she’d been working for Mama Tina, Samantha never enjoyed the sex with her johns. That is, not until she met Ali. His bodyguards always stayed right on the outside of the VIP room when they were together, which gave her a feeling of security that she’d never felt with David. Not to mention the money Ali spent was terrific. $5,000 was spent on their first night alone. The night he died, David had had enough of Samantha’s dishonesty. In his mind, she could turn tricks to pay the bills, as long as she was honest. The moment she stopped telling him about the johns was the moment she began cheating on him. When she arrived home from work, David was standing in the kitchen. She walked up to him, and he grabbed her forcefully. With his other hand, he pushed her head towards the boiling hot grease on the stove. Samantha screamed as the intense heat from the oil coated her face. David shouted at her to tell him what she did with Ali. Even still, Samantha refused to tell him anything. David took this refusal as the sign he needed and let her go. He screamed that if she wanted to be a whore, she should live somewhere else. Samantha ran from the house, back to Mama Tina’s. There, she called Ali and explained that David tried to kill her with the grease. Ali’s voice calmed her as he told her to stay in their room at Mama’s until he got there.

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Only, when he did, he wasn’t alone.

Samantha knew to expect Ali’s bodyguards, Rocco and Bone, to be escorting him; however, it was the sight of David, bruised and bloodied, that frightened her. She scurried backward into a corner of the room, questioning why David was there and what happened to him. It was at that moment that Ali forced David to his knees and assured Samantha that he would never threaten her life again. With the flex of Ali’s wrist, Rocco took off his belt and wrapped it around David’s neck. Bone held his hands as David fought for every breath until the end. When it was over, David lay dead on the floor. The belt that killed him was still around his neck, while Samantha sat huddled in the corner, shaking. Rocco put his belt back on, and Ali motioned for Samantha to take his outstretched hand. She did, and as they left, he whispered in her ear: “He was weak. A real man will take you away from all this. Now, you belong to me… and only me.”