The Love Crystal

Flash fiction piece read at the Word Circus reading series at White Whale Bookstore in Pittsburgh, PA on March 23, 2018.


100 Word Story

An icy cold prickled up my spine when I came home and saw him on the couch with her. I stood for a moment, still, unnoticed. Then, I gasped, my lungs refilling with air. I raised my palm to shield my eyes from the scene. I spun around. I grabbed the doorknob and slammed the door behind me. He hadn’t even tried to hide it. She moved exotically before him—the khaleesi, on the giant glowing screen. The Game of Thrones season finale dazzling him and him alone. Upstairs, I lay in our bed, betrayed.


100 Word Story

The mission? Secure the package.

Across state lines, I drove in a fury. Anticipation clamped my hands to the steering wheel. At a busy highway rest stop, the exchange was made. Doors slammed and I hit the pavement again.

I finally approached the country home for delivery. My husband descended the porch steps. “Who’s that?” he asked. Our newly adopted greyhound followed on his leash to the grassy expanse behind the house. The latch unhooked. A silver bullet exploding from a gun, he shot across the field. “I think I’ll call him Trigger.”


100 Word Story

The notes of an insignificant pop song whispered from her forgotten headphones dangling from the kitchen table. The lights left on, the candle burning. Her curious Bichon sniffed at the door left cracked open. When the call came in, her pulse had quickened. It still raced ten minutes later as she pulled up to her mother’s house where paramedics were already rolling her out on a gurney. Tears streamed down her face as she jumped into the ambulance.

Eight hours later, her pulse stabilized as she gazed through the viewing window. Under a soft blanket her sister squirmed.


100 Word Story

Five minutes, he thought, creeping through the shadowy mansion. Blood pumping in his ears made hearing difficult. His breath threatened to match pace with his pulse. The last room on the right, he thought, visualizing the blueprint set before him months ago.

The plan calmed his heartbeat. It was foolproof—as long as the CEO’s teenaged daughter stayed in her third-floor bedroom. In the office, he approached his favorite part—the safe. He cracked it in under thirty seconds. But his prideful grin quickly vanished. Instead of the promised documents and jewelry, he saw candy, mounds of it.

And then the alarms sounded.