One of the first movies I watched in a theater was Fantastic Voyage, the 1966 sci-fi film in which a submarine and crew of scientists were shrank to microscopic size and injected into a neck artery for the purpose of destroying a blood clot. The special effects were primitive by today’s standards, but to an eleven year old boy who made poor grades in science, they were terrifyingly realistic.
When I saw this week’s photo prompt from Jennifer Pendergast, I knew it was time to transport my readers forward in time for a similar excursion inside the human body. If you are new to Friday Flash Fictions, the mad scientist in charge of the program is the ever-vigilant Dr. Ruthenstein Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate, in this weekly exercise in madness, visit her blog, http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ after which, scroll down to the blue In links critter and follow the links to other author’s blogs.
Captain’s log, June 14, 2025. The HMO Penetralia, has been dispatched to an asteroid galaxy directly above Uranus. In preparation of our arrival, Central Command directed a unit from the GoLytely division to flush the area of foreign debris.
Our orders are to engage and destroy all alien life-forms attempting to create settlements within the region. Thus far, we have only encountered token resistance from scattered, nomadic Polyps.
The ship stops unexpectedly.
“Captain to engine room. MacIlroy, what’s going on down there? We need more power.”
“Apparently Captain,” said Mr. Block, “we are in the clutches of a giant tapeworm.”
Horror, Psychological Thrillers, Flash Fiction, and Poetry
Stories From Within
Finding ways to make words sparkle
This is the blog of a woman who is seriously on the edge and I mean right ON the edge…no, not there… just a little bit further… further than that…no, further still…just a tiny bit more… just move slightly to the right a little…no, that’s too much…just move a tad to the left…that’s right, just there…now you’ve moved too far to the left… Damn, what part of the ‘on the edge’ do you not understand? Oh, and her matricidal boy genius, come devil spawn.
Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.
Confessions of a Delusional Maniac
I may make you feel, but I can't make you think.
All the Blogging That's Fit To Print
AS I TOLD THE GIRL THAT I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO, THANKS FOR LAUGHING AT ME HERE TODAY.
I don't write, I touch without touching.
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Stylistically Abusing Language for the Betterment of Mankind
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And the worst things. And all that weird stuff in between.