Flash Jab Fiction is written by fans of pulp and speculative fiction. It is a no pay, no fee, writing-for-the-sake-of-writing type of gig. The stories are usually tough and raw and come from some of the bloodiest knuckles of the hardest punching crime fiction writers around today.

Subscribe to Bloody Knuckles and join other writers today.

Follow me:

Enter your email address below.

A TinyLetter Email Newsletter

Sunday, June 3, 2012


Below is my response to Patti Abbott's 'drabble' challenge. A drabble, I was surprised to learn, is a story that is exactly 100 words long. 


The red letters fade.  
No one will say who wrote the name Ichabod over the front door.  The glory had left that country church long before the graffiti ever appeared. Eternal whispers persist in a congregation as parted as the Red Sea.
“Is it true?”
“I don’t want to believe it.”
“He the preacher.”
“And she. Married. Those poor children.”
Sunday potlucks sour. Suspicion walks the road whenever people drive pass.  
And then the bodies, arranged upon the altar. Pastor J____ and Mrs. K___.  Naked as Adam and Eve. Sinful.
The artist reminds:  Ichabod gets a new coat of paint. 


  1. Now that's a chilly one. Great stuff.

  2. Nice one, Jack. I really like the congregation parted like the Red Sea.

  3. Great story, Jack. Had a sneaky, subtle Lovecraftian slant to the church. Nice hat tip to a certain scarlet letter. And for that matter a guy named Orwell would tip his hat and smile approval of this missive also. Cool beans, Mister J.

  4. Wow, amazing. It took my breath away, Jack. And all in only 100 words. bobbi c.

  5. Great use of that already very intriguing image. Ifound myself straining to see the letters through the paint...

  6. Sunday potlucks sour.

    That is one great line. Thanks, Jack.

  7. God sees all, but so does man. Terrific.

  8. Creepy! And also a somewhat similar motif to my own drabble. I swear, we didn't compare notes.