Tag: flash fiction

The Roommate [a short story]

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

The Roommate

by

Alina Happy Hansen

 

The snake slithers across the floor, touching no one. Hidden under the floorboards, it is a silent occupant in this house. I have only seen it a couple times but each time was a vivid and odd experience. The first time, I was in the kitchen sipping my morning coffee and he slithered in from the living room glanced at me with disdain and slithered out. The second time, I was sitting on the toilet, part of my morning routine before leaving for work, I heard him before I saw him, hissing and sliding across the floor. The door was open a crack and I saw as it was gently pushed open, his small face poked in to look at me in disgust then disappeared. I don’t mind this guy, we don’t have mice anymore but I’m starting to wonder how a snake got in the house in the first place.

 

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

Cowboy in the Desert: Flash Fiction Series #8

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

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

Hospital Stay: Flash Fiction Series #7

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

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

Announcement: Working on…

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

Penny Dreadful Poster  Salem Poster iZombie Poster

photo sources: imdb.com

 

Hello! 

Here is an update of what I am planning on posting in the next couple of weeks!

First,

I realized I haven’t done two ‘Monthly Notebook Excerpts’ (May and June). This is because I’ve been working a ton and trying to get my personal life in order this summer. Not an easy feat. So do expect a combined post ‘May/June Monthly Notebook Excerpts’ very soon.

Second,

I am still under a pile of books that I have been reading this summer. I hope to have two or more finished by the end of this month and a reflection post for each one.

Next,

I have a few ideas on posts under my subsection of writing ‘Film, Music, Art’, here is what I’m considering (give any suggestions in the comments below!!!).

Reflection/Review Post:

Penny Dreadful

Salem 

iZombie

These are all series available on Netflix. They are some of my favorites. I have been thinking about doing a review on one or all of them this summer.

That is all I am thinking about right now!

Please feel free to leave any suggestions etc. in the comments below! I will take all suggestions into consideration!

As usual expect my ‘Free Hand #’s’ poetry posts as well as my ‘Flash Fiction #’s’ I will be doing those regularly still.

Thank you for taking time out of your day to read my writing!

I greatly appreciate all my followers and regular readers!!! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

–Alina

Isolation: Flash Fiction Series #6

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

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