A selection of nanofiction (very, very short stories) by Alan Green.
Editor’s note. Previously published on Thaumatrope.
We were warned that the poles would melt. We knew about the floods. If only we’d known about the creatures that had been trapped in the ice.
I cast the spell that set them free. They didn’t have to copy us anymore. I expected gratitude but familiar hands reached out of the mirror.
Too much tequila in Vegas? True perhaps, but she’s wrong to say the wedding was a mistake. I’ve been waiting so many millennia for her kiss.
The alien ships hover above our cities. The masses can’t find out. We’ll need an excuse to ground all flights over northern Europe…
A world of werewolves. Every month a strange dream, and you wake up naked in a stranger’s garden. Then we all walk home in awkward silence.
First contact. Global excitement…then nothing for decades. Later we found out that most Martians thought the Earth landings were faked.
Sadly the octopus’ desperate attempts to warn mankind were repeatedly misunderstood.