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    Flash Friday Collection Vol. 1
    Flash Friday Collection Vol. 1
    Flash Friday Collection Vol. 1
    Ebook97 pages1 hour

    Flash Friday Collection Vol. 1

    By S.E. Batt

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    About this ebook

    For almost a year, S.E. Batt has been publishing a piece of flash fiction on his website every Friday for free. Now, his first twenty-five pieces are available to download for e-readers!

    Dive into a huge collection of stories and see what you can find. What about the gourmet mage who runs a restaurant and finds trouble no matter what he does? The person with a clipboard on a street asking for donations of souls? A man as he experiences his own funeral? These, and many more, are here in one hassle-free collection for your reading pleasure.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherS.E. Batt
    Release dateJul 28, 2013
    ISBN9781301148158
    Flash Friday Collection Vol. 1
    Author

    S.E. Batt

    S.E. Batt loves all things light-hearted and humorous. When he's not writing, he's playing video games, talking to other writers, and generally wishing he was writing. He's a proud member of the Forward Motion online writer's group, and sends all of its members a digital thumbs-up.

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      Book preview

      Flash Friday Collection Vol. 1 - S.E. Batt

      Flash Fiction Collection Vol. 1

      S.E. Batt

      Copyright 2013 by S.E. Batt

      Smashwords Edition

      Contents

      Copyright

      Ms. Mayberry

      Angelic Tech Support

      Pablo’s Finest Spam

      Unwanted Hold-ups

      Teacher Training

      Milkman Quest

      Wild Emotion

      Playfight

      Missing Fate

      Cooking Up Trouble

      Overlap

      Still Cooking Up Trouble

      Charitable Soul

      Wile of a Reptile

      Lion, Car, Man

      Pie For A Spy

      One True Weakness

      Bunny and Cat

      Unwelcome Guests

      Dead Man Talking

      Sweet Tooth

      Machine Work

      Tragic Past

      Your Funeral

      Wrong Direction

      Thanks

      Other Works

      Excerpt from A Hero Unto Death

      Ms. Mayberry

      Gareth looked up at the store sign. He didn’t recall the store opening in town, but it was here regardless.

      The text shone all different colours in the sunlight, giving a playful tone. It read ‘Ms Mayberry’s Home Made Ice Cream’, and the artist took great care to fit the entire phrase onto the modest-sized sign. It hung over two glass windows, in between which was a door that showed off a bold OPEN sign with pride. Giant caricatures of ice cream cones were stuck to the window, pointing towards the door and winking at the passers-by, all of whom seemed to have more pressing things on their minds than ice cream.

      With a sense of adventure, Gareth pushed the door open. A delightful tinkling sound pierced the air as the door’s bell rattled. The sound caught the attention of the broad woman behind the counter, who turned around to face him.

      Shut the door, would you? She sounded like a voice actress from Hollywood, if said actress was always drafted in to play the part of gravel. Gets bloody cold in here. Gareth nodded and made sure the wooden door closed properly. The bells chimed again.

      I take it you’re Ms Mayberry? Gareth turned and approached the counter.

      No, I’m the Queen of sodding England. ‘Course I’m Mayberry. Wouldn’t have paid a nickle and dime for the sign out front if it weren’t me name. She tapped her name tag with force. The font used for the tag pleased the eyes; the hand-written name, however, would have made a graphologist faint. Now take a look at the goods and lemme know if you need anything.

      Gareth approached the counter. Fourteen boxes of ice cream were lined up, two in every column. Each box sported a different colour, which Gareth presumed correlated to their flavours. It was a big help, given that the boxes were unlabelled. Even worse, the ice cream they contained were all the same cream colour. Gareth pointed to a yellow box. I’ll take some banana ice cream, please.

      You what?

      Banana flavour. Please. He pointed to the box again.

      That’s not banana, you muppet. That’s vanilla.

      Oh. Awfully sorry, I assumed it was banana. Very well, I’ll take chocolate. He pointed to a brown box.

      That’s also vanilla.

      Gareth scratched his head. I see. What flavours do you have in stock right now?

      Vanilla.

      A small silence.

      …and?

      That’s it. Just vanilla. What, you expected more? Mayberry had her arms crossed, looking as if someone had challenged her to a fight.

      Well, to be honest…yes, I did. Just a few extra flavours, is all.

      Well look at Prince Charles here, wanting more than vanilla. This is home-made produce, I’ll have you know. It’s not like I can make any bloody flavour I’d like, I’m not Ben and Jerry. Look, if you want something other than vanilla, you can try some of my experimental batch. She ducked under the counter, her voice only just audible over the rummaging. Been trying to get mint and cinnamon flavours down. Had quite a bit of success, if I say so myself. She returned holding two boxes, holding them out for Gareth to see. Peering into them, he could see one of the boxes contained vanilla ice cream with mint leaves sprinkled on top; the other, cinnamon sticks jutting out at awkward angles, looking like a birthday cake made during an earthquake.

      I’ll just take vanilla, thank you, Gareth said.

      Suit yourself. She placed the boxes back. Well? Which one do you want?

      What do you mean?

      The box, bozo. What coloured box would you want?

      The black box, I guess. Gareth watched Mayberry grab an ice cream scoop in one hand and a bowl in the other. Oh, is it possible for me to get it on a cone, instead?

      Mayberry flashed him a glare. You seriously want black-box vanilla ice cream in a cone?

      Well, yes, if possible.

      Mayberry sighed and shook her head as she discarded the bowl and got a cone. Who in their right mind would come in here and order black-box vanilla and ask for a bloody cone? Christ Almighty. There you go, sir. Quid fifty.

      Thank you. Gareth took the cone with one hand and extracted the correct change from his pocket with another.

      You can put some sauce on it if you want, Mayberry said, taking the payment. It’s free.

      Gareth followed her pointing finger to a small plastic squeeze-bottle on the counter. Oh, thank you, he said, picking up the bottle and turning it upside-down over his ice cream. With a squeeze, a mixture of what looked like melted vanilla ice cream crept out of the nozzle and drizzled on the scoop. Very generous of you, he added.

      ’Course it was. Only thing ol’ Mayberry can do to help keep the world turning. You just come back here when you get another feeling for ice cream, okay?

      Sure, he lied, turning to the door. I’ll see you some other time. Grasping the door handle, the chiming bells were a blessing to his ears as he escaped the madhouse and onto the street. With a rush of relief, he continued his journey.

      He gave the ice cream a lick. At least the produce tasted good.

      Angelic Tech Support

      Cynthia adjusted the headset resting on her ears. A phone call could happen at any time.

      Despite the high amount of attentiveness the job demanded, she liked her job. Situated in the higher-up plains of the afterlife, her offices were adjacent to the cherub training facility, and a stones throw from a cafe selling ambrosia-based drinks and food. Eyeing up the ambrosia snack bar resting on her table, she was grateful for the position she was in. Given the jobs that the Devil forced people to do, it could be a lot worse.

      The sound of a phone ringing came down her headset. It was showtime.

      Pressing a button on the desk, she placed he fingers on the divine keyboard, resting the digits upon the holy home row, preparing to type. Hello, this is Heaven Technical Support, how can I help you?

      The first thing Cynthia heard from her headset was the sound of tired, heavy breathing. It sounded as if the caller got back from running a marathon. Hello? The voice was shaky. "Hello, yes. I’d like

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