Friday, October 7, 2016

Cracked Flash: Year 2, Week 11!

Hey y'all! Back again. 

Remember that we're on the look for a judge or guest judges! Email us at


Judge This Week: Mars

Word Count: 300 max

How: Submit your stories as a comment to this post, along with your name, word count, and title (and Twitter handle or blog if you've got 'em!). One entry per person.

Deadline: Midnight tonight, PDT! 

Results announced: Next Thursday afternoon.

Remember: Your entry must begin with the prompt! The prompt can be mutilated, but not beyond recognition. (Pictures do not need to be incorporated into your stories, they're for inspiration (and sometimes our amusement)).


"This isn't what I meant by 'invisible'."

I like the internet, okay


  1. Open-Air
    By Ronel Janse van Vuuren
    89 words

    ‘This isn't what I meant by “invisible”,’ Malachi hissed.

    The crowd gathered around them, filling the amphitheatre.

    ‘Relax, no-one’s looking at you,’ Beau said, leaning against a tree.

    ‘Why would they? I’m lichen!’


    ‘I asked you to make me invisible, not unlikeable!’

    Beau laughed. A few heads turned their way before looking at the stage again.

    ‘Sorry, bud, but you were a parasite long before I got to you.’

    The music swelled and Malachi forgot who he was as he absorbed the sun and photosynthesis became his world.

  2. Sight Unseen

    "This isn't what I meant by 'invisible'." I shout it to the walls; I cry it to the Gods; I scream like the devil, like a baby who failed to survive the womb.

    This isn’t what I wanted.

    Was it?

    Tonight, I hunker down on the grate. The tarp is frayed. The rain is slight. The storm is on its way, I hear. Chatter on the street, people talking in chunks. They may not see me but I hear things.

    I do hear voices.

    I still hear Miss Mumford in Grade One. She came to our house.

    Teachers never came to your home.

    “He’s a strange little one, Mrs. Plant. I worry that Charlie is not absorbing even the basics.”

    My mother looks at me. I am standing in the hallway. “It has worried us, Miss Mumford. He’s very silent. Mind you, that’s a blessing sometimes. Most children his age are noisy little critters…”

    Miss Mumford almost smiles. In class, she never does. She screeches like a crow. Voices are like that. Have always been like that.

    “Come here, Charlie,” Miss Mumford orders. I resist for a second and then my mother says “Do as Miss Mumford says, Charlie.”

    Of course there are two of them, so I do. I enter the parlour and stand by mother.

    “Darling, Miss Mumford feels that we should send you to Wintercrest Institute. It’s a place to help children come out of themselves. She thinks…we think…that you are not really here, darling. That you are trapped inside yourself…”

    Yes. Wintercrest. And then Valley Haven. And then the funeral of my parents.

    And all those years of wandering. Sightless! Eyeless! Rootless!

    And tonight, obscured by the light rain, the darkened shadows of the alleyway, the absence of one lost man goes unnoticed.

    Another invisible soul.

    300 words almost not there

  3. Hiding

    "This isn't what I meant by invisible." I thought as I walked outside to see my daughter dressed in camouflage attire. She was standing up against a tree holding her breath so as not to move an inch from the place she chose to blend into. I'm assuming she had rosy cheeks from the lack of oxygen. If there wasn't black and green marker smeared across her face I might have been able to see her scarlet complexion.

    "I wonder where she's hiding?" I shouted while pacing the backyard. She snickered but didn't reveal herself.

    "Is she behind the tree?" I asked to no one in particular as I walked past her and around the trunk of the tree. The master of disguise again stayed motionless.

    "Maybe she's under the porch?" I walked over to the porch and bent over.

    "Oh no!" I yelled as she jumped on my back, knocking me to the ground.

    "You didn't find me," she said with a smile on her face. "I get to hide again!" She screamed at me pushing me inside to count, thus starting the monotonous routine that would be the rest of my day.

    194 words
    Emma Rapp

  4. AWOL by Cassandra Day

    This isn't what I meant by invisible." Thundered the Commander

    "Sir in his defense you ordered him to... "

    "I didn't order him to go AWOL. We have to find that scoundrel!"

    "Yes sir. Where was he last seen?"

    "Chopping wood near the shore."

    *2 hours later*

    "Sir we found no sign of him."

    "Can't you do anything right? My superiors are coming tomorrow I can't have a man missing. Call out the dogs, I'll handle this."

    "Yes sir "

    "Man is it cold out here. Hold it, the dogs smell something. Go check it out.

    "Sir I can't find a thing but the dogs are going crazy."

    "What? Hey! Look the sand!" Stammered the commander.

    Eyes wide with fear the two gawked at the sand. Boot prints with no owner appeared over and over again. As they stared at one another in disbelief a voice said.

    "Commander, sir I have finished chopping the wood as you ordered."

    135 words

  5. ‘Morale’
    By Daisy Warwick
    299 Words

    “This isn’t what I meant by ‘invisible’,” scolded Sam. “Well, are you going back to work?”

    Rachel hated her job and would’ve rather enjoyed her cigarette. Hell, she didn’t get paid enough to just stub it out.

    “We’re on break,” she replied.

    “I can see that, but I need you in there,” grumbled Sam.

    “We’re entitled to a break,” said Libby.

    “Not together. One of you always needs to be present on the desk,” he replied.

    “You said our job was to be invisible; that a good receptionist blends into the background, which is what we’re doing,” said Libby.

    Libby was about to hand her notice in, but Rachel hadn’t found another job yet, so she wasn’t prepared to seriously annoy the Hotel Manager, Samuel Garvey.

    “Be invisible, but be present. The backyard isn’t the ‘background’,” he said.
    He held the door open and motioned for the women to go through it.

    Feeling deflated, Rachel moved towards him.

    “Seems we’re invisible when people give us good reviews and tip. But, we never seem to remain invisible when people complain. Funny how people only remember the name off my tag when their air-con stops working and they want to tell the rest of the world,” said Libby.

    Libby didn’t care any more. They’d both worked a ten day stretch of back-to-back shifts, no breaks and about eight bad reviews had occurred due to electrical complications that Sam hadn’t seemed motivated to fix.

    Rachel reluctantly returned to three anxious looking guests. She hoped for a sudden heart attack so she wouldn’t have to deal with them, but that was not what saved her.

    Before she’d even unlocked her computer screen she heard screeching.

    Libby had made it into the car park and was hurling geraniums at Sam shouting,
    “What’s my name?!”

  6. The Closet

    “This isn't what I meant by 'invisible'." I scowled, gesturing at my camouflage clothes.
    “Well, the magazine said that camouflage would make you invisible!” Amber exclaimed, jabbing her finger at the ad. I opened my mouth to reply when an alarm sounded from upstairs. We froze and then looked at the stairs. Seconds later, we heard the familiar creak of the front door being opened, accompanied by voices and footsteps. Amber dropped the magazine, her eyes filled with distress as she whispered,
    “She's here!” She ran towards the closet and I ran the opposite way to shut off the lights. As swiftly as I could, I made my way to the closet and shut the doors. Behind me, I could hear Amber scrambling for cover behind the boxes and coats. I stood in the front, doing little to hide myself. If we were found, I would have to pretend I was the only one in the large closet.
    The basement door opened with a groan. The woman called for us, her melodious tone masking her evil intentions. She slowly walked down the stairs. The lights were turned back on, one after another, illuminating our fate. Through the slit between the doors, I could see a figure getting closer with every second. I held my breath for what seemed like an eternity.
    Suddenly, the doors were pulled open, inviting the fresh, chilled air into the closet. She smiled when she saw me, laughed and then said, “Come on Amber! Your mom's waiting upstairs to take you home!”

    258 words
    Avi Hurst

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