This week's challenge from terribleminds was to come up with a character... and share them in 250 words either with a description, a scene, anything. Next week, hopefully someone will take up the mantle and set my character in his own flash fiction piece! At the very least, this has helped me get to know someone I've not spent too much time with...


Charlie stood up, dusting shards of broken glass off his uniform and looked around the dishevelled room. Both officers were on the ground, one unconscious and the other moaning and holding his head. Kay stood in the center, barely breathing harder. He had to admit, the alien had her uses. He was a quick draw, but with their weapons confiscated by the last border patrol, there wasn’t much he could do when a 20th century pistol was levelled at his head.

“Good work.” She gave what he assumed was a disinterested shrug. “Did you manage to collect our client?” She nodded. “Nice of you to come back for me.” He waited for her to walk past him. Maeve might trust a creature from the outer rim of the galaxy; he wasn’t going to be so naïve.

He held out a hand as they passed through the double doors. She stared at it, then up at him, eyebrow arched in question.

“The gun?” Firearms were prohibited in this sector, and he didn’t want to come up empty a second time.

She turned, pointing back into the room. He looked. The pistol was lying in pieces next to the unconscious officer.

Charlie groaned. “You broke it?!”

Kay shrugged.

“Can you hurry up? I want to be out of here before this gets reported.” Maeve’s voice crackled in his ear.

He sighed and jogged towards the docking bay, casting one last, longing look back at the gun. No one appreciated artistry anymore.


Alright, this week is an essay instead of flash fiction... Check out the others at terribleminds.

I like this question – why do you write – because it’s only in my best days that I can think of my response. Today is not one of those days. Today is the kind of day where I give up, and forget that I like to write in favour of easier things like reading gossip blogs or watching TV. So it’s interesting to think about why I write when I really don’t want to be a writer. There is also something very honest and revealing about myself when I look at why I write - because it is a core part of what makes me... me.


I write because I can’t imagine not writing. I can’t even remember a time where I wasn’t thinking up stories and plots and characters – writing just gives action to those ideas. That’s not to say that I always write – because I don’t. There are weeks and months where I can’t bear the idea of giving voice to an idea, for fear that what comes out in ink or on a blank page is not as perfect as I imagined it.

I’m always making up stories. Even when I can’t think to do it physically, I write while I walk and think. My characters have conversations with each other in my head or with me, to my dismay. They have opinions and voices – and so I write not to go insane.

I write because the world doesn’t make sense otherwise. People who are focused on power at any cost to other life, or worship money above all else, who don’t recognise themselves as hypocrites… there’s too much for me to understand. Human behaviour is awful – all I think most days is how much better the world might be if we go extinct. So I write. I write because I can try to understand the reasons behind someone’s reasoning, or I can twist and mold it so that evil does not win or good does not triumph.



In between worlds, in and out of existence...

a story still being told

I write sci-fi and fantasy with abandon and dabble in urban and contemporary fiction. I'm currently working on a sci-fi webseries for a digital media startup. I'm primarily interested in long fiction but for 2015, I want to hone my editing skills by doing regular flash fiction.

"Creativity is a sickness. You cannot choose creativity, it chooses you. When you accept the deal, it's like Faust, you are selling your self to the devil. You have no more life. Most people think they live to be happy, but in the field of creativity, you understand very fast that you are not in the world to be happy... you are in the world to just do it. I must be creative, it is like a duty, I have no choice. I am always involved with a project and so I have no concept of ordinary life or happiness. I am made of flesh and sweat, but life and happiness is for other people." Phillippe Starck