I write fiction of all lengths: micro flash (under 300 words), flash fiction (500 - 1000 words), short fiction (1000 - 6000) and novellas. I enjoy reading and writing most all genres; mainstream, mystery, science fiction and horror, fantasy and childrens' stories. Here are a few samples of my work.
It’s the middle of the night. Mid-April. You’re awoken from a warm sleep by the warning cry of your carbon monoxide detector. You leap out of bed, scream at your spouse in the darkness, “Wake up.” You leave them behind to figure it out while you run through the house opening doors and windows on your way to the children's bedrooms. The harsh siren seems to announce the threat from all directions at once. Every second is critical. You manage to get outside, all of you out together, out to safety. Everyone draws in a long deep breath of fresh air. That's when you notice your neighbors standing in their yards, their driveways and the middle of the road. They’re standing in pajamas, nightgowns, robes and underwear. Some of them hug and cry. Others try to say something, scream something, but it’s hard to make out their words. They all look cold, frightened or outraged. The ringing of carbon monoxide detectors is deafening, because it's coming from every house on your street, and from the next street over, and from every street anywhere that has a house on it. It only grows faint as the CO detectors' batteries start to run down. You, everyone, have had to come to the realization that the danger was never inside your homes. It wasn’t inside your neighbors' homes either. And that long deep breath of fresh air you all took in was laced with odorless poison. Where did it come from? You don't know. No one knows how such a thing could have ever happened. All you do know as a group, perhaps even as a species, is that you only have moments left to say good-bye to your loved ones before—
© 2020 by Andrée Gendron