Invisible Balloons

You can’t see me, but I’m watching you. You people interest me. Why are some of you unfaithful to the ones you say you love? Why do some of you murder those of the same kind? Why do some of you allow ‘hate’ to rule your minds?

You don’t know it, but each of you has a balloon. Like me, they are invisible to you but surround each of you. When your balloon bursts, you die.

It won’t be long, now, before my balloon bursts and you will all die. This planet, you all so un-love, will be mine.

#flashfiction #fiction #shortstory #shortstories #amwriting

I have no idea where this piece of flash fiction came from. I didn’t even have to think about the prompt. The first (and only draft) was precisely 99-words long. That’s never happened to me before.

Written in response to the 99-word flash fiction challenge with the theme of ‘Balloons‘ over at the Carrot Ranch.


#flashfiction #fiction #shortstories
Credit: Charli Mills

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Author: Hugh W. Roberts

My name is Hugh. I live in the city of Swansea, South Wales, in the United Kingdom. My blog covers a wide range of subjects, the most popular of which are my blogging tips posts. If you have any questions about blogging or anything else, please contact me by clicking on the 'Contact Hugh' button on the menu bar. Click on the 'Meet Hugh' button on the menu bar of my blog to learn more about me and my blog.

76 thoughts

  1. Hugh, these balloons belong with clowns…rather sinister! Well done and quite a fluke with the word length. It was meant to be.
    xx Rowena

    1. Yes, you’re right, Rowena. It was certainly meant to be and to also be left as that first draft. I rather like clowns. It’s dolls that terrify me, especially the ones that watch your every move and blink.

      1. Thanks, Hugh. Thought you’d like this one. When I was in Paris, I went to the markets at Clignancourt and saw this row of porcelain doll heads for sale in a cabinet. That was haunting and I written a short story about suicide in the River Seine at the time. I also did a solo reading at the Shakespeare Bookshop at the time and read the story there. It seems that often that great high, I became a closet writer when I returned to Australia. Became corporatized for awhile. Glad I got out! xx Rowena

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