Tag: Flash Fiction

A dim, bureaucratic office counter in a wish-granting department. In the foreground, a stamped application form reads, “I want him to see only me,” marked “GRANTED.” Nearby are neat stacks of files, a heavy rubber stamp, and a desk sign explaining procedural rules. On the wall, official notices emphasise that wishes are granted exactly as written. Through a glass partition in the background, a man sits opposite a woman, but his attention is fixed entirely on her, reinforcing the unsettling consequence of the wish.
Posted in stories

The Wish Granting Office

Posted on by Mike

I want to be clear that we followed procedure throughout. We always follow procedure. That is, in fact, the point of procedure.

She came in on a Tuesday. They nearly always come in on a Tuesday, I don’t know why that is, I’ve never looked into it. She had her form already filled out, which some of them do, and she slid it across the desk the way people do when they want you to know they’ve thought about it. When they want you to know they don’t need help from a wish processing clerk.

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A single blue fountain pen lying on a grey government office desk. Harsh fluorescent lighting. The pen is perfectly centred. Everything else on the desk is slightly blurred. Hyper realistic. Cold colour palette.
Posted in stories

The Prompt Log

Posted on by Mike

I have been keeping a record. The AI suggested it. Or I suggested it to the AI. The distinction has become less reliable than it once was.

I work in procurement. I raise purchase orders for stationery, cleaning materials, and occasionally specialist equipment. It is precise work. It suits me, or suited me, or was described to me as suiting me at some point during a conversation I may or may not have initiated. I have been in the same office for eleven years. I know this because the file tells me so and I have learned to trust the file.

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Over-the-shoulder view of a man seated at a desk in a dim, rain-lit office, looking down at an open “Memory Retention Application” file facing him as he writes a decision, with paperwork, a computer screen, and a handwritten note nearby, creating a quiet, tense atmosphere of bureaucratic judgment.
Posted in stories

Form MEX-7: Exemption Review – Case 4,847

Posted on by Mike

The file arrived at 11:23. Standard routing. No flags on the system.

Daniel opened it in the order it had come, as per procedure, and began with the supporting documentation. Applicant name: Margaret Reeves. He stopped. Looked at the window. Looked back. He wrote reviewed in the margin and continued.

Date of birth: 14th March 1958. NHS number. Next of kin: Daniel Reeves. He underlined nothing. He moved on.

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A dim hospital corridor at night seen from a low angle, with peeling green walls and deep shadows, leading to a slightly open door marked “7” emitting a pale light, while faint, ghost-like soundwave patterns drift through the air, creating a quiet, unsettling atmosphere.
Posted in stories

Room Seven

Posted on by Mike

The first one was a man named Gerald. He died in February, a Tuesday night, sleet against the window, and what he left behind was the sound of a door closing softly in an empty house. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just the specific sound of someone arriving home to no one. I heard it the moment his breathing stopped. I have not stopped hearing it since.

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A dimly lit office corridor with a frosted glass door marked “7” glowing with warm, shifting light. A woman stands at a distance holding files, facing the door, while the surrounding hallway remains shadowy and empty.
Posted in stories

The Room That Is Always in Use

Posted on by Mike

Nobody booked Room 7. That was the first thing Diane noticed when she took over the facilities spreadsheet from Paul, who had left without notice and without explanation, which itself nobody seemed to find strange.

The room sat between the stationery cupboard and the second-floor toilets. It had a number, a handle, a frosted panel through which light was always visible. Not the cold flicker of fluorescents. Something warmer. Something that occasionally shifted, very slightly, the way light shifts when a body moves through it.

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