Only The Best



“Well, Jones, how is it going?”

“Everything is in place, Sir. The rings were dropped into the sky a week ago and don’t appear to have caused any concerns amongst the populace. As we expected, they have convinced themselves they are in some way connected to their strange celebration of Christmas.”

“Excellent. Are we ready for the next phase?”

“The rings are activated, Sir. Once you give the order we will begin beaming selected humans onboard.”

“Start the process, Jones. And remember, the Intergalactic Zoo are only interested in young, healthy specimens. Jettison any that don’t meet the necessary criteria.”

Mike Jackson


A 100-word story for Friday Fictioneers.

Photo courtesy of © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


The Crack In The Wall



Peter measured the crack in the wall scribbling the measurements into a small notebook, which he tucked into his dressing gown pocket.

He put his ear to the crack. The voices seemed quieter today, more distant. His heart quickened as her gentle voice rose above the chatter.

“Peter, my dear, how are you?”

Peter didn’t reply. He never did. Unsure if the voice was real or just one of many that inhabited his head.

“Have you taken your measurements today? The opening is getting bigger, my dear, just like I said it would.”

Peter nodded but remained silent.

“Soon the gap will be large enough for my friends and I  to pass through. Then you and I can finally be together.”

How Peter longed for that moment.

“Time to go darling. You’ve a visitor.”

The voices went quiet. Peter straightened up and took a step back as his bedroom door opened.

“Good morning Mr Jones. How are we this morning? Still worried about that crack in the wall I see. I’ve had a word with maintenance. They’re sending someone down to have a look at it. Now, be a love, roll up your sleeve and I’ll give you your medication.”

Mike Jackson

Have You Seen The Table?



Arthur looked at the table. What was it with these people?

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t told them before. Last time they’d left it covered in half-empty beer glasses and overturned wine bottles.

The time before that he’d found the table cluttered with bottles of bleach and sundry other cleaning materials that hadn’t been put away.

Today it was set out as a coffee station.

He blamed Guinevere. She was the one responsible for the domestic staff.

He looked up at the clock.

He just had time to clear it away before the first of his knights arrived.

Mike Jackson

A 100-word story for Friday Fictioneers.

Photo courtesy of  Priorhouse

Time Passes

I find my grip on life weakening.

It doesn’t feel that long ago when everything was on the up. A great job, lots of friends and then, at the peak of my good fortune, I met you and felt completely fulfilled.

I wonder now how I allowed you to manipulate me as you did and leave me feeling as I do?

When you left, my world turned upside down and life, as I knew it, became a futile journey.

So, I sit here watching the minute hand of existence turn, knowing it won’t be long before I slowly slip away.

Mike Jackson

Seven Ordinary Looking Doors

This is my second year here.

It’s a great holiday destination and still relatively unheard of. Mind you the price would put a lot of folks off – it’s not cheap.

You’re probably thinking it doesn’t look much, no sunny beaches or swanky wine bars, just seven ordinary looking doors. But it’s what’s on the other side that counts.

Behind each of them is one of the seven deadly sins and the clever bit is you don’t know which one’s which.

Last year I picked greed and had a marvellous seven days. This year I’m hoping for two weeks of lust.

Mike Jackson


A 100-word story