All posts filed under: Work – Microfiction

Samples of my previously published fiction as well as full micro works, published and unpublished.

Microfiction: Turn

* Note: Contains adult language and themes * Turn 486 words by Brandon L. Rucker I wrote this on January 11, 2012 via a prompt in one of the private offices at the Zoetrope Virtual Studio. The piece had to contain any of eight select words and could be any length, any genre. I wrote mine spontaneously in about 30 minutes with no editing (the fastest ever for me) and used these words: signal, seethe, focal and suffer. Roger tapped the turn signal down to make a left turn, but immediately realized it was the wrong turn when his daughter started screaming at him. “What the hell are you doing, old man, you were supposed to turn on Binford Ave. Can’t you do anything right, I swear!” He slammed on the brakes but it was too late, the car was too far into the intersection to successfully make the right turn without taking out four other cars and a pedestrian or two who stood on the curb waiting to cross. At only nineteen, Gina was already …

Microfiction: Pretty Things

Pretty Things 335 words by Brandon L. Rucker From the BLR Vault. An oldie (wow, fourteen years now), but has always been one of my favorites. I’ve taken a few passes at it over the years, tweaking this or that. It’s probably still not “perfect” but I think I may be done tinkering with it. I might’ve submitted it once to a lofty literary webzine or two at some point in the past five years. Still, it sits in the nursery as one of my favorite, if somewhat dour, children.  My wife and I are silent this morning as we walk our six year-old daughter to school.  We don’t speak to one another much these days, idle chatter seems like a chore.  Many sunsets ago we would gaze intently into each other’s eyes, now neither of us so much as steals a fleeting glance at the other.  That infamous saying that there’s ‘no love lost’ does not apply to us; there’s a lot of love lost here.  More anchor than glue now, our little girl trots merrily …

Microfiction: Shard

Shard (original version) 203 words by Brandon L. Rucker Originally published in the anthology A Pint of Bloody Fiction by U.K. publisher House of Horror, September 2010, which was edited by S.E Cox and Nandy Eckle. Microfiction with just enough words to quench your bloody thirst. He lunged at her clumsily, but missed.  That imprecision cost him.  Unknown to him was the fact that she had a weapon.  At the moment he lunged she used cat-quick reflexes to duck and avoid his attack.  She scrambled to the basement floor.  This allowed her to strike swift just as he recovered.  She used a broken mirror shard to slice into his Achilles as if it were a mere thin ribbon made of fine silk.  He screamed in agony, lumbered to the floor like a wounded animal shot in the wild. Predator had become prey.  As blood began to flow from the injured tendon without pause, endorphins and adrenaline masked his pain as he struggled to get back on his feet, finish the job.  She had other plans.  She wanted …