Tag Archives: short fiction

Cheryl’s bad day

This day had been chipping away at her since she woke up to no coffee in the house.  She had resignedly made a cup of tea and saved the tea bag to reuse as she was dangerously low on those too.   Then she went to start a load of laundry thinking she could at least catch up on all the household chores that always piled up when she was working.  Cheryl was determined to make the most of this mandatory time off.  BUT when she heard a terrible screeching sound from the laundry room and ran in to slip and slide in the overflowing soapy water she realized the day was plotting against her.

“I bet the laundromat isn’t as busy as normal what with social distancing and all.” she said aloud. With that decided she gathered up the soaking wet clothes and all the other piles too and loaded them into the car. Just as she was getting ready to get in the car to leave she stepped in a muddy puddle drenching her shoes. “Well, I’m not going to chance ruining another pair so I’ll just wear these hideous boots Paul left behind.”  She’d been meaning to throw them out anyway.

Cheryl was only slightly surprised when she arrived at the completely deserted laundromat.  “Guess, I have my run of the place!” She made short work of sorting and loading and starting the wash.  Cheryl was pleased that she had even remembered to bring ample quarters along.  With a sigh she sat down to wait and picked up an ancient magazine to read.  The time passed uneventfully and the clothes were now drying. “Maybe the day is going to improve,” Cheryl thought. All was well until she took the last load out of the dryer to fold…

Maybe she was over reacting…maybe not, but Cheryl had had it!  She would not lose one more sock!

She already had at least a half dozen single socks missing a partner. Why did this always happen? Was it the machines were hungry, were mischievous elves involved?, was it a black hole as her friend Resa had suggested? Either way she found herself climbing into the dryer, Cheryl was determined to retrieve it.  This picture was taken from the laundromat’s security cameras… and that is the last time Cheryl was ever seen.

Maybe black holes, indeed!

image from pixabay

~Melanie Thomason



Filed under Stories


Everyone breathed easier at the first signs of spring.  But Charly knew that it would make little difference.  Yes, the winter had been brutal but it was the least of their problems.  It was not the weather that kept her up at night.  The cold they could endure but what would they do when they were found? More importantly how far could she go, what would SHE do?

She had leased this place under a fictitious name but she knew that would only slow the inevitable.  True evil would soon be a Charly’s gate and she had to be ready for it.  There was no one else to fight for them.  Her life was in her own hands.  Everywhere she went she kept an eye out for his distinctive gait.  She knew it was unlikely he would approach her in public, it wasn’t his style, but even so she was diligent.

If it were only her life she might give up, stop running cause he was always one step behind them.   She could feel his breath on her neck.  But Charly couldn’t relax, couldn’t let down her guard because it wasn’t just her life on the line and as long as she was alive she swore she would never let him lay one finger on her babies.

Charly fueled up on coffee in preparation for another sleepless night.  With a heavy sigh, she settled into the chair in front of her kid’s room that she had placed facing the one and only door.  The weight of the shotgun across her lap was reassuring.


~Melanie Thomason


1-800-799-7233 1-800-787-3224 (TTY) Highly-trained advocates are available 24/7/365 to talk confidentially with anyone experiencing domestic violence, seeking resources or information, or questioning unhealthy aspects of their relationship.



Filed under Stories

a flower

– Shichigoro Shingo

“Mummy, look what I found for you!”

“Thank you, my sweet.”

“It is soo pretty.  Do you know what it is?”

“That, dear one, is what the humans used to call a flower.  Before they had destroyed themselves and all other forms of life on this planet there were lots and lots of them.  You remember your history lesson on bees?”

“Yes, bees are pretty and so very important!”

“Precisely, and once the bees were all gone the flowers and all the other plants, fruits and vegetables died off as well.  They were all gone…where did you find this one?”

“Come with me.  I’ll show you, Mummy. There was a little patch of them over there.”

As the mother walked hand in hand to a field of flowers with her daughter, she realized the Earth was finally rebounding from the plague that had been humankind and she smiled.

~Melanie Thomason





Filed under Stories


The wind cut into his skin

grey skies pressed down

on the rotting town

but at least he was home

Death’s shadow hung heavy here

and the sad picture it painted

suited him just fine

it was better than he deserved

he listened to the storm heave and moan

as his head ached with her memory

“I’m home Momma,

I never should have left you

alone with that mean drunk.”

He laid across the dust covered bed

that still had her favorite quilt on it

He knew he should get washed up

so he didn’t stain it with blood

“I finally stood up to him Momma,

he won’t be hurtin’ nobody else.”

But it was too late, much too late for Momma


~Melanie Thomason






Filed under Poetry

Last Cigarette


“You know smoking can kill you, right?”

“Of course I do, do I look like a complete moron to you?”


“Well I’ll have you know I’m an incomplete moron as is almost everyone by the way.”

“Anyway, I’m dying anyway so why should I stop doing anything I enjoy?”

“Well it might hasten your demise…”

“Let it! And if this is to be my last smoke, I’ll look fabulous doing it.  Actually you should take my picture to remember me by and to remind yourself.”

“Remind me of what?”

“To live your life until you die,  So many people don’t.”

~Melanie Thomason



Filed under Stories

Quartz – a very short story

Quartz had herself worked up into a fury!  Her mother had to know better by now… how could she still not know her at all? She would never wear that floral monstrosity with the puff sleeves.  Never!  She ran to the top of the stairs to proclaim, “I would rather shave off all my copper locks than wear this dress!   I would rather kiss the dog!  I would rather drive in an unyielding downpour while listening to old people talk about the weather and how such and such is in a fine fettle…!” (whatever that antiquated phrase meant)

And she meant it!  Quartz had the clippers in hand when her mother finally conceded.  She could go to the party in jeans and her favorite T-shirt.

And all was right in Quartz’s world again 🙂

~Melanie Thomason





Filed under Stories

Dearest Reader

Dearest Reader,

Whilst I am indeed euchred I felt that I owed it to you to pen this tale before I succumb to sleep’s waiting embrace.  I couldn’t cheat you out of it after all this time.

As you know, gentle reader, I have searched far and wide for the specimen we refer to as a perfect man.  A theory had begun to take shape that no such thing existed.  Well, I have to report to you that just last week I found one that may prove to be perfect at long last.  Granted, I only have a cluster of experiences to base this on, but he is looking promising.

Devoted reader, you must believe me when I say that he is intelligent and charming.  He is funny, sexy and kind.  I know, I know it sounds impossible but he is an animal lover and has told me great tales of his protection and support of women and children.  In fact he doesn’t even consider us as a “weaker sex”, he views women as equal to men, NAY, superior to men! 

I’m cognizant that it appears I’m being taken for a ride, so I shall keep my head on a swivel to ensure that I am not being snookered and in turn deceiving you dear reader. 

Did I mention that at the lightest touch from him my senses runaway from me? My pulse quickens and my cheeks flush red as a ripe strawberry.  My temperature rises when I feel his smoldering gaze upon me.  He is every good part of every man rolled into one, he is sex personified….ahem, pardon me gentle reader, as I contain myself. 

Anyway, as I was saying, it will (I assure you) be my pleasure to spend as much time as necessary with him to verify a valid conclusion. I’ll report back with my findings.  Don’t be alarmed if it takes a while.

Yours truly,



~Melanie Thomason












Euchred- utterly done in or at the end of one’s tether; exhausted.
Mythomane- a person with a strong or irresistible propensity for fantasizing, lying, or exaggerating.


Filed under Stories


The scroll of the screen continued even after she closed her eyes.  It was exhausting looking for someone who apparently had no desire to be found.  Holly never wanted to see him again but find him she must.  She knew that it was the only way to put an end to this madness once and for all. 

Holly had left him and had every reason to be in hiding so why was he now missing?  She had lived in fear of him and was sure that he would find her…so imagine her surprise when it was the police who came knocking.  Now they were looking at her as a suspect, as if she had done something to him!

Apparently, Jake’s friends and family had painted a very different picture of the relationship, one where Jake was as pure as the driven snow and she was the vile and abusive one. Holly had to give it to him…he had found a new way to hurt her after all.  It was surreal hearing this version of events and Holly couldn’t believe they were ALL lying for him. 

Thank goodness for Detective Anne Sloan, she was the one person who seemed to believe Holly’s side of things.  Together the two women were searching for Jake among the living, while everyone else was looking for a body and proof of a murder.  Holly knew two things for sure: Jake was alive and she was not going to let him get away with this.


~Melanie Thomason



Filed under Stories