Flash Fiction Story: Upload Complete by Ben Fuller

(This is a short flash fiction story that I have been trying to write for the last year. It is kinda my epistle on the Singularity.)

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“Upload complete.”

There was a smattering of applause, but he was unable to determine the source.

“Nice work, team.” Different voice. Louder. Closer? Familiar. “Let’s run some checks and see if he is there.” Continue reading

10 Short Stories in 140 Characters or Less – Part 3

Since no one actually pays attention to me on Twitter, I started posting Random Snippets of Dialogue from stories that I will never write. That morphed a bit over that initial 10 posts to something slightly more interesting to me – Twitter-sized character studies. In effect, short stories of 140 characters or less. This is the third bunch of 10 that I have posted so far. Continue reading

10 Short Stories in 140 Characters or Less – Part 2

Since no one actually pays attention to me on Twitter, I started posting Random Snippets of Dialogue from stories that I will never write. That morphed a bit over that initial 10 posts to something slightly more interesting to me – Twitter-sized character studies. In effect, short stories of 140 characters or less.

This is the second bunch of Random Snippets, but the first bunch of Short Stories. 

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Short Story: Incident at Darrow’s Forge by Ben Fuller

(This is the first installment of a series of short stories I have been writing for a while that take place in a world in which Santa is real, as are all of the rest of our Holiday cultural representatives, but maybe not in the form that we are most familiar. I have had it posted on our agency blog – www.blogmaster2000.com – but thought it was time to post it here as well with the majority of the rest of my work.)

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Flash Fiction Story: The Ghost on the Hill by Ben Fuller

(This is a short story that I wrote several years ago for a Flash Fiction group that I participate in on Facebook.)

The General stood on the hill and gazed out. The distant memories of that early morning still played out in front of him. Absently, he pulled at his short beard as the sun broke the horizon and began to flood the plain with morning. The shadows of the many tombstones stretched out, as if reaching to him in supplication.

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