Flash Fiction
![Screen Shot](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Screen-Shot-2020-04-26-at-1.37.05-PM-1024x334.png)
A-Z Story Flash Fiction
I wrote a Flash fiction in which each line begins with a letter from the alphabet. The following is the piece A cold day in
![Screen Shot](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Screen-Shot-2020-04-26-at-1.37.05-PM-1024x334.png)
Famous Last Words
“Where should I start? Everyone has this one life. It’s a fact. Regardless of what you believe we have never seen someone rise from the
![Screen Shot](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Screen-Shot-2020-04-26-at-1.37.05-PM-1024x334.png)
The Sycophant
The Sycophant. I can hear it coming. I opened the door to my home. People were screaming. Heading down the streets in mass terror. I
![door-image](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Entry-1-1024x306.jpg)
All Your Heroes Are Dead
We’ve been trapped for a long time now. Stuck in some alternate dimension in hopes to make our world a much better place. This place,
![door-image](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Entry-1-1024x306.jpg)
Raise Hell
Got you a solution. Buy a watch, a passport, and a plane ticket. Notate the time and fly from where you are to the other
![door-image](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Entry-1-1024x306.jpg)
Baba Yaga
I’m here to kill someone. Someone who, in turn, killed my wife. My children. I’ve been looking around the globe for this killer and at
![Screen Shot](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Screen-Shot-2020-04-26-at-1.37.05-PM-1024x334.png)
The Doppelgänger (Revisited)
Edited by Stephanie Bachman “You’re fired,” Harold, a seemingly successful business executive, said at a near yell. “You’re lazy and I can’t stand being in
![Screen Shot](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Screen-Shot-2020-04-26-at-1.37.05-PM-1024x334.png)
The Same Fate
When he came to he was already knee deep in blood. In the tightest of corners. No exits. But there was a window, there was
![Screen Shot](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Screen-Shot-2020-04-26-at-1.37.05-PM-1024x334.png)
The Doppelgänger
Harold, a seemingly successful business executive, was heading home from a fairly long day of working. Harold was a single father in which had a
![Screen Shot](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Screen-Shot-2020-04-26-at-1.37.05-PM-1024x334.png)
A More Perfect People
The mission was somewhat of a success. The special forces team were to extract all if any of the last tribe of the dying Mohali
![door-image](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Entry-1024x306.jpg)
Basic Fear Camp
I open my eyes to see the reality before me blend into one flamboyant mess of colors that are just an extension of oneself. There
![Screen Shot](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Screen-Shot-2020-04-26-at-1.37.05-PM-1024x334.png)
The Red Cellar Door
The red cellar door looked the same as it always had. Tommy, a boy just at the age of six, had always feared that monsters
![Screen Shot](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Screen-Shot-2020-04-26-at-1.37.05-PM-1024x334.png)
Paradise
Jean and Thomas argued frequently. They argued about many petty things and although neither of them enjoyed it, they argued anyway. Jean one day pointed