Flash Fiction #8 (Cowboy in the Desert)

Cowboy in the Desert

by

Alina Happy Hansen

 

He looks to the sky, the sun burns. The blue lake glitters in the distance. The sound of coyotes somewhere nearby. The gun is heavy on his hip, and his boots are full of sand. He takes a step then another. His chapped lips, cracked and bleeding. Hands limp and lifeless hanging in defeat. His horse dead, miles back, its black eyes shine in his mind as he shot it lying on its side dying of thirst. If he could just make it to the blue lake glittering in the distance.


 

If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing!

I hope you will return in the future!

-Alina

Flash Fiction #7 (Hospital Stay)

Hospital Stay

by

Alina Happy Hansen

He sits propped up on some pillows. The sick smell of bleach and antiseptic is inescapable. His neighbor groans in pain behind the curtain partition. The TV flickers every other minute, the signal weak. A voice calls to him from outside the opened window. His heart beats furiously. The voice of his dead mother reaches him, getting louder as he reaches for the call button. “Why did you say you wanted me to burn in hell?”


 

If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing!

I hope you will return in the future!

-Alina

Flash Fiction #6 (Isolation)

Isolation

by

Alina Happy Hansen

 

Alone and unloved, she sits in a room that is pale and plain just like her. The window lets the sun in, trickling across the floor, across the wall until it vanishes each night from sight. There are movements and sounds coming from the rest of the house, voices seep through the walls. The other women’s howls slice through the silence. Rooms become cages to keep in the hysteria and pain. The room is her tomb where she waits for her family, sitting there in a chair, staring out the window into the sun.


 

Inspired by The Yellow Wallpaper , horrible stories of Asylums and women being treated for ‘Hysteria‘. 

 

 

If you are reading this thank you for taking time out of your day to read my writing!

I hope that you will return in the future!

-Alina

Flash Fiction #5 (Dinner)

Dinner

by

Alina Happy Hansen

 

He hums to himself sharpening his knives. Her voice echoes down the hall.

He positions himself, ready to slice. Her voice grows louder from down the hall.

He looks at the meat, the red, bloody slab and begins to cut, cut it all up, into

tiny bitty pieces until there is nothing left to cut up any more. Her voice echoes,

a scream, from down the hall. The sizzle of the meat in a hot pan. She calls out,

“WHERE’S MY DINNER?!” at the top of her lungs.

 


 

If you are reading this Thank you for taking time out of my day to read my writing!

I hope that you will return in the future!

-Alina

Flash Fiction #4 (The Lighthouse)

The Lighthouse

by

Alina Happy Hansen

 

There she stood. Her figure silhouetted against the moon, distant and lonesome,  looking out towards the sea. The spinning light reached out across the void, touching waves, touching clouds until disappearing back behind the trees. Lighthouse, candle, and a memory of a death. He calls out to her from the door, hoping she’ll come back inside, inside his arms, inside the house, and forget it all. Forget the blood, the pain and the small grave.

 


If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing!

I hope you will return in the future!

-Alina

Flash Fiction #3 (When Words Lose Meaning)

Here is a rough version of a Flash Fiction piece I am working on.

 


approx. word count: 130

When Words Lose Meaning

by

Alina Happy Hansen

 

His eyes are black, she drones on, picking up her wine glass. Sips and mutters something under her breath. Her beauty blossoms in the candlelight but her words are poison, tarnishing her image. He wonders how such a beautiful woman could be so cruel. After weeks of being with this woman he has found himself growing more and more disgusted by her. Suddenly her freckles become abrasive markings, her lips stained and creased, her teeth yellow and her eyes, a dark abyss that swallows him whole. Her image begins to slip in front of him as she reveal who she really is. In the end he will marry her because everyone admires her beauty but he will no longer value words and live a life of deceptive imagery.


 

If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing!

I hope that you will return in the future!

-Alina

 

Flash Fiction #2 (Death and Kittens)

approx. word count: 140

 

Death and Kittens

by

Alina Happy Hansen

 

Mama cat cradled her kittens, suckling softly on her underbelly. Somewhere there was a gunshot. Somewhere, somebody died. The ones that can’t reach the nipple mew and cry. There are tire screeches around the corner of the alley and the sound of car doors opening, feet pounding on the cement, a chorus of men shouting. Mama cat peaks out her head from the side of the moldy cardboard box to look. Men are running towards her and her kittens, red and blue flashes against the brick buildings. Mama cat tenses up, moving slightly, kittens fall off her swollen nipples. Loud shots echo through the air. A man falls, his body smacks the pavement. Blood in his eyes, he sees a dilapidated cardboard box next to a dumpster, tiny eyes glowing in the darkness stare at him as he loses consciousness.

Flash Fiction #1 (The Cup)

Here’s the first of many weekly Flash Fiction pieces I will be posting on my blog. All pieces will have less than 150 words.

 


(word count approx: 110)

 

The Cup

by

Alina Happy Hansen

 

The dog barks at the sound of the mail man shuffling onto the porch. Marie walks into the kitchen, the coffee maker almost done gurgles the last bits of hot water and spits out the hot black nectar. She pours herself a cup and listens to the dog walking through the house. There is something a little hard, a little chewy in her mouth. She sighs, frustrated, getting rinds in her coffee again? Marie dumps out the rest of her cup into the sink, her stomach turns. The dead washed up body of a giant spider lays lifeless in a pool of coffee slowly dripping down the drain, a leg missing.

 

THE END


 

If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing! I hope you return in the future!

-Alina

Announcement: Flash Fiction and more!

ANNOUNCEMENT POST: FLASH FICTION/WHAT TO BE EXPECTING FROM MY BLOG!

I will be posting ‘Flash Fiction’ pieces (100 words or less) starting next week. This is my way of practicing while also showing my creative process!

There will be one or two posts a week of my flash fiction next to my regular ‘Free Hand’ poetry posts.

Also, I am still working on building my Summer 2017 Fiction Book List, as well as a list of all the ‘How-to-‘ books on Poetry and Flash Fiction that I have read.

I want to thank all the people that have decided to follow me (106). I was amazed when I finally had a hundred people following my blog (sometime last week) and wanted to say thank you!

I look forward to this summer and cannot wait to correspond with others on wordpress about poetry and flash fiction (when the time comes)!

Thank You,

Alina

Short Story Sample: The Bump

This is a rough draft of a short story I’ve been working on for a while.

WARNING: Graphic details and gore elements.


 

The Bump

by Alina Happy Hansen

 

Alison touched the back of her head. There was a tiny bump at the base of her skull. She pretended to scratch her head just so she could feel it. Yes, it was still there. Was it a bug bite? An ingrown hair? A pimple? A cyst? Alison wore her hair down; worried that someone would notice the bump. She tried multiple times to see it by positioning herself in front of her bathroom mirror with her compact angled behind her head but there was nothing visible that she could see just golden brown hair and the delicate curve of her pale neck disappearing into the collar of her blouse. Absentmindedly she found herself throughout the day touching the bump, trying to pick at it with her perfectly manicured nails which only ended in scratches and a red patch were the skin had been agitated.

The first night after noticing the bump she laid on her back in bed as usual but quickly felt an irritating itch where the bump was. After adjusting her pillow and realizing she was only comfortable sleeping on her side, she finally dozed off and proceeded to sleep like this the nights after. In the mornings she would get up, jog about three and a half miles then come home and take a shower. She lathered new shampoos into her hair till it was thick and foamy and then rinsed it out for a few minutes careful to make sure there was no soap left. Unsettled by the bump she had bought a slew of conditioners as well as scalp treatment products but nothing worked. Eventually her hair became dry and brittle and a soft down of dandruff began to appear on her pillows and shirts. Frustrated, Alison threw out the multitudes of bottles she had bought and began to ……

It was a couple months until Alison noticed the bump had grown. It was no longer the size of a mosquito bite but a lump. Again, positioning herself in front of her bathroom mirror, she looked for it, whatever it was. Feeling it out, she left her finger right on top of it then tried to see it in the reflection, again she could see nothing but the lump felt like it was the size of a ping pong ball. Alison attempted to look up information on the internet about skin growths but eventually drove herself into a state of self induced anxiety. Afraid someone would notice the lump on the back of her head she gave herself a perm and fashioned her hair into a large set of curls thick enough to hide the mysterious lump.

Alison looked up local dermatologists and started scheduling appointments. Alison would call on a Monday morning and schedule an appointment at the end of the week but by the time the appointment would come up she found herself driving home and walking straight into her bathroom. Sitting on the closed lid of her toilet, she would convince herself that the lump was nothing. The dreaded word ‘cancer’ surfaced occasionally in her mind but she would quickly dismiss it. Unable to see the lump in the mirrors reflection Alison tried to convince herself that the lump simply was not there.

At night Alison had to put a movie on to distract herself from the presence of the lump. Positioning herself up on a couple of pillows behind her back she fell asleep her neck strained resting against the wall. Alison noticed that she was getting frequent headaches now and her neck was stiff. She stopped jogging and began drinking a lot of water, reluctant to start taking aspirin regularly she tried eating more to cure the headaches but they only got worse.

Eight months passed and Alison had gained twenty pounds. She got a new perm every month and refused to cut her hair. She began to measure the lump on the back of her head. It was now about three inches long and half an inch wide. She could now spot a small outline on her scalp when she checked her reflection and in response bunched her curls together with pins to create a poof where the lump was. Alison didn’t want to go to the doctor and had not revealed the lump to her family or friends. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself. If she ignored the lump maybe it would go away.

Aware that she had gained a few pounds, Alison began eating only red meats and fresh greens. Her worry surrounding the lump had made her self-conscious. She had not been on a single date in months. The last date had ended horribly. She still remembered how Mark’s head had disappeared under her dress, his roaming hands feeling every curve of her back and buttocks, the slim dip of her belly, squeezing her full supple breasts. He had pulled her dress off and came up to kiss her neck. Then her heart began to pound as his fingers got closer and closer to the back of her neck. She jolted up and pushed him off. After that date he never called her back and she decided not to go out again until the lump was gone.

Alison stayed at home and found herself in the kitchen or bedroom unless she was at work which had become an increasingly uncomfortable environment since she had to leave to go to the bathroom and secretly check her lump multiple times a day. She wrote down the size and shape of the lump, scribbling doodles of the lump. She kept track of her water intake and details of what she ate and how long she slept, what positions were the most comfortable and which ones irritated the lump and gave her a headache.

It had only started happening recently that she would wake up and there would be a large spot of greenish ooze on her pillow near the back of her head. Her hair crusted and sticky, she searched the lump for a secretion but it looked unchanged only the mysterious fluid on her pillow would appear. She would wash her pillow cases daily and began to wear her curls wrapped up in a large handkerchief. She doused herself in perfume when she began to notice that her hair had begun to smell. It was constant and stagnant the smell of something molding. She would wash her hair before work, after and a couple more times during the night but the smell remained.

Regardless of Alison’s new diet she continued to gain weight, at the end of the year she had gained fifty pounds and the lump had grown to the size of three golf balls in a line on the back of her head. Alison found it harder and harder to sleep. She tried soothing ocean sounds, whale calls and even rain but nothing would do the trick. Whenever she did wake up she was tired, her head a massive throbbing weight on her shoulders. She had finally begun to talk herself into telling her mother about the lump. At the end of the week she would call her mother and ask her to go to the doctors with her. She collected all the pictures, notes, and drawing she had made of the lump into one folder as well as her eating and sleep habits.

Alison woke up the next day to the foul smell of the lump. It had permeated her room, her bed, her house. She lighted scented candles and opened the windows in an attempt to get rid of the smell. Instead of jogging, Alison now went into the bathroom every morning for a few hours to check the lump and wash her hair. She had gotten a magnified mirror and brighter bulbs to help her see the lump.