Bastian Espada writes
@bastianespada.com
I write very, very short stories.
Check all my stuff at:
https://write.as/bastianespada/
The greatest thing I've ever written:
https://write.as/bastianespada/y8gtfjhng1o0np49
Contact Me:
https://linktr.ee/bastianespada
Check all my stuff at:
https://write.as/bastianespada/
The greatest thing I've ever written:
https://write.as/bastianespada/y8gtfjhng1o0np49
Contact Me:
https://linktr.ee/bastianespada
To boredom
While staring at the ceiling,
Lost in mindless peering,
To me came the strangest idea:
The notion,
that reality is a tad bit too real.
While staring at the ceiling,
Lost in mindless peering,
To me came the strangest idea:
The notion,
that reality is a tad bit too real.
December 18, 2024 at 10:47 PM
To boredom
While staring at the ceiling,
Lost in mindless peering,
To me came the strangest idea:
The notion,
that reality is a tad bit too real.
While staring at the ceiling,
Lost in mindless peering,
To me came the strangest idea:
The notion,
that reality is a tad bit too real.
“I don’t know man, when it comes to love, the most improbable shit has a way of actually happening.”
December 14, 2024 at 4:14 AM
“I don’t know man, when it comes to love, the most improbable shit has a way of actually happening.”
The thoughts you no longer think,
The words you no longer say,
The space you no longer occupy—a hole of infinite proportions.
The words you no longer say,
The space you no longer occupy—a hole of infinite proportions.
November 28, 2024 at 10:43 PM
The thoughts you no longer think,
The words you no longer say,
The space you no longer occupy—a hole of infinite proportions.
The words you no longer say,
The space you no longer occupy—a hole of infinite proportions.
"What the hell are you doing, you stupid phone?" I ask.
The phone doesn’t answer.
It never does.
The phone doesn’t answer.
It never does.
November 26, 2024 at 4:31 AM
"What the hell are you doing, you stupid phone?" I ask.
The phone doesn’t answer.
It never does.
The phone doesn’t answer.
It never does.
"Revenge is a dish best served by me—at whichever temperature I feel like.”
November 15, 2024 at 1:12 AM
"Revenge is a dish best served by me—at whichever temperature I feel like.”
I snuck upon a sleeping lion and bit the underside of its neck — all so that both it and I could understand how it feels.
It was a bad idea, a bad idea indeed.
It was a bad idea, a bad idea indeed.
July 8, 2024 at 4:26 AM
I snuck upon a sleeping lion and bit the underside of its neck — all so that both it and I could understand how it feels.
It was a bad idea, a bad idea indeed.
It was a bad idea, a bad idea indeed.
A fish once spoke of watery truths to many a young egg:
“A worm whose jiggle does not entice,
That squirms but does not dance,
Whose spirit beckons not,
Avoid at any cost,
For a fishes live’s ma—”
A net entrapped all living things in the area and swept them up.
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
“A worm whose jiggle does not entice,
That squirms but does not dance,
Whose spirit beckons not,
Avoid at any cost,
For a fishes live’s ma—”
A net entrapped all living things in the area and swept them up.
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
April 23, 2024 at 5:00 PM
A fish once spoke of watery truths to many a young egg:
“A worm whose jiggle does not entice,
That squirms but does not dance,
Whose spirit beckons not,
Avoid at any cost,
For a fishes live’s ma—”
A net entrapped all living things in the area and swept them up.
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
“A worm whose jiggle does not entice,
That squirms but does not dance,
Whose spirit beckons not,
Avoid at any cost,
For a fishes live’s ma—”
A net entrapped all living things in the area and swept them up.
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
"No one understands me like you do!” The girl wrapped her arms around the thick furry torso, where she then buried her head.
The stuffed gorilla remained motionless.
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
The stuffed gorilla remained motionless.
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
April 12, 2024 at 8:57 PM
"No one understands me like you do!” The girl wrapped her arms around the thick furry torso, where she then buried her head.
The stuffed gorilla remained motionless.
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
The stuffed gorilla remained motionless.
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
"I must confess mine is a marriage of convenience.”
The woman raised her left eyebrow and took a sip of her mimosa. “Is that so?”
“Indeed, I massage her feet in exchange for belly rubs.”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
The woman raised her left eyebrow and took a sip of her mimosa. “Is that so?”
“Indeed, I massage her feet in exchange for belly rubs.”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
April 4, 2024 at 10:16 PM
"I must confess mine is a marriage of convenience.”
The woman raised her left eyebrow and took a sip of her mimosa. “Is that so?”
“Indeed, I massage her feet in exchange for belly rubs.”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
The woman raised her left eyebrow and took a sip of her mimosa. “Is that so?”
“Indeed, I massage her feet in exchange for belly rubs.”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
“Sure wish this establishment had standards. Perhaps you should consider allowing entry only to those with a minimum amount of class?”
“Madam, you wouldn’t recognize class if it were to become enfleshed, produce its member, and with it strike your countenance.”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
“Madam, you wouldn’t recognize class if it were to become enfleshed, produce its member, and with it strike your countenance.”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
April 3, 2024 at 7:52 PM
“Sure wish this establishment had standards. Perhaps you should consider allowing entry only to those with a minimum amount of class?”
“Madam, you wouldn’t recognize class if it were to become enfleshed, produce its member, and with it strike your countenance.”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
“Madam, you wouldn’t recognize class if it were to become enfleshed, produce its member, and with it strike your countenance.”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
"There are some truths that hurt, there are truths that set people free. There are truths that do both, and truths that do all sorts of other things. And then there exist some truths that are just sort of…there.”
“Bruh, true.”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
“Bruh, true.”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
March 29, 2024 at 7:32 PM
"There are some truths that hurt, there are truths that set people free. There are truths that do both, and truths that do all sorts of other things. And then there exist some truths that are just sort of…there.”
“Bruh, true.”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
“Bruh, true.”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
“Do you remember when we were real?”
“Not really.”
“You know, me neither. I don’t think I remember anything at all.”
“No one does. No one…does…”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
“Not really.”
“You know, me neither. I don’t think I remember anything at all.”
“No one does. No one…does…”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
March 25, 2024 at 4:29 PM
“Do you remember when we were real?”
“Not really.”
“You know, me neither. I don’t think I remember anything at all.”
“No one does. No one…does…”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
“Not really.”
“You know, me neither. I don’t think I remember anything at all.”
“No one does. No one…does…”
#writer, #AmWriting #flashfiction
'Tis one of those days when time seems more interested in mocking rather than passing. When the seconds punch up, the hours down, and the minutes just kinda sit there and take it.
And five o’clock might as well be a million eternities away…
#writer, #AmWriting, #flashfiction
And five o’clock might as well be a million eternities away…
#writer, #AmWriting, #flashfiction
March 22, 2024 at 8:42 PM
'Tis one of those days when time seems more interested in mocking rather than passing. When the seconds punch up, the hours down, and the minutes just kinda sit there and take it.
And five o’clock might as well be a million eternities away…
#writer, #AmWriting, #flashfiction
And five o’clock might as well be a million eternities away…
#writer, #AmWriting, #flashfiction
There exists a broken clock in a broken house, it doesn’t tick and it doesn’t tock. It’s pendulum attempts to swing above a ragged floor — uneven and marred by patches of mold and hoary footprints.
The cuckoo bird bursts forward, it screams.
#flashfiction #amwriting
The cuckoo bird bursts forward, it screams.
#flashfiction #amwriting
March 20, 2024 at 7:23 PM
There exists a broken clock in a broken house, it doesn’t tick and it doesn’t tock. It’s pendulum attempts to swing above a ragged floor — uneven and marred by patches of mold and hoary footprints.
The cuckoo bird bursts forward, it screams.
#flashfiction #amwriting
The cuckoo bird bursts forward, it screams.
#flashfiction #amwriting
March 15, 2024 at 8:33 AM
“The court finds itself in agreement with the defense's position that the defendant has had no control over his nurture nor his nature. This court finds the defendant not guilty of all charges on account of being human.”
The defendant wept.
The victim’s father shot him.
#AmWriting
The defendant wept.
The victim’s father shot him.
#AmWriting
March 5, 2024 at 9:32 PM
“The court finds itself in agreement with the defense's position that the defendant has had no control over his nurture nor his nature. This court finds the defendant not guilty of all charges on account of being human.”
The defendant wept.
The victim’s father shot him.
#AmWriting
The defendant wept.
The victim’s father shot him.
#AmWriting
“I re-affirm my commitment to embark on this mutual journey of transformation.”
“And I acknowledge and embrace our partnership, grounded in the deep-seated belief in the power of collaboration to foster positive growth.”
“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest said.
People cheered.
#writing
“And I acknowledge and embrace our partnership, grounded in the deep-seated belief in the power of collaboration to foster positive growth.”
“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest said.
People cheered.
#writing
February 28, 2024 at 5:05 PM
“I re-affirm my commitment to embark on this mutual journey of transformation.”
“And I acknowledge and embrace our partnership, grounded in the deep-seated belief in the power of collaboration to foster positive growth.”
“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest said.
People cheered.
#writing
“And I acknowledge and embrace our partnership, grounded in the deep-seated belief in the power of collaboration to foster positive growth.”
“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest said.
People cheered.
#writing
Thirteen angels danced on the head of a poorly-sterilized pin.
It was used in an autonomous clandestine domestic amateur nipple-piercing operation.
Everyone involved died three days later.
#author, #readerscommunity , #readercommunity , #writing, #AmWriting
It was used in an autonomous clandestine domestic amateur nipple-piercing operation.
Everyone involved died three days later.
#author, #readerscommunity , #readercommunity , #writing, #AmWriting
February 23, 2024 at 2:08 AM
Thirteen angels danced on the head of a poorly-sterilized pin.
It was used in an autonomous clandestine domestic amateur nipple-piercing operation.
Everyone involved died three days later.
#author, #readerscommunity , #readercommunity , #writing, #AmWriting
It was used in an autonomous clandestine domestic amateur nipple-piercing operation.
Everyone involved died three days later.
#author, #readerscommunity , #readercommunity , #writing, #AmWriting
“Ah! Magnificent.” The man grabbed his date by the arm. “See, the genius of this piece lies in how it deliberately engages in the disjunctive perturbation of the liminal qualities of the object-semantic space, enhancing the motif of dangerous alertness.
“Uhm, dude, that’s just a fire alarm.”
“Uhm, dude, that’s just a fire alarm.”
February 17, 2024 at 7:44 PM
“Ah! Magnificent.” The man grabbed his date by the arm. “See, the genius of this piece lies in how it deliberately engages in the disjunctive perturbation of the liminal qualities of the object-semantic space, enhancing the motif of dangerous alertness.
“Uhm, dude, that’s just a fire alarm.”
“Uhm, dude, that’s just a fire alarm.”
“Close your eyes, breathe. Focus only on the sound of my voice,” the woman whispered.
The man — who was lying on the floor of his living room — felt the tension in his body evaporate, he became one with the world…
“Fuck!” he yelled, an hour later, when he opened his eyes.
All his shit was gone.
The man — who was lying on the floor of his living room — felt the tension in his body evaporate, he became one with the world…
“Fuck!” he yelled, an hour later, when he opened his eyes.
All his shit was gone.
February 14, 2024 at 6:51 PM
“Close your eyes, breathe. Focus only on the sound of my voice,” the woman whispered.
The man — who was lying on the floor of his living room — felt the tension in his body evaporate, he became one with the world…
“Fuck!” he yelled, an hour later, when he opened his eyes.
All his shit was gone.
The man — who was lying on the floor of his living room — felt the tension in his body evaporate, he became one with the world…
“Fuck!” he yelled, an hour later, when he opened his eyes.
All his shit was gone.
February 9, 2024 at 4:19 AM
"Sometimes, I wish I’d never been born!”
“Dude, you weren’t”
“Oh, that’s right,” the man’s imaginary friend said, then disappeared.
#author, #writer, #writing, #AmWriting #microfiction
“Dude, you weren’t”
“Oh, that’s right,” the man’s imaginary friend said, then disappeared.
#author, #writer, #writing, #AmWriting #microfiction
February 7, 2024 at 6:09 PM
"Sometimes, I wish I’d never been born!”
“Dude, you weren’t”
“Oh, that’s right,” the man’s imaginary friend said, then disappeared.
#author, #writer, #writing, #AmWriting #microfiction
“Dude, you weren’t”
“Oh, that’s right,” the man’s imaginary friend said, then disappeared.
#author, #writer, #writing, #AmWriting #microfiction
What is the true nature of the Universe?
I weep, for I do not know.
February 6, 2024 at 7:29 AM
What is the true nature of the Universe?
I weep, for I do not know.
It smelled of death. It smelled of time. It smelt like past glories and herbs.It smelled of luxuries forgotten, rancid love — a violent history.
That fart, changed my life.
#author, #authors, #writer, #writing, #AmWriting
That fart, changed my life.
#author, #authors, #writer, #writing, #AmWriting
February 5, 2024 at 6:42 PM
It smelled of death. It smelled of time. It smelt like past glories and herbs.It smelled of luxuries forgotten, rancid love — a violent history.
That fart, changed my life.
#author, #authors, #writer, #writing, #AmWriting
That fart, changed my life.
#author, #authors, #writer, #writing, #AmWriting
The weird kid grabbed the branch as it were a hand, and sat next to the snowman he had made. “Some months will pass, and you’ll be gone.” The child turned to face his creation. “You’re so ephemeral."
“Well, so are you,” replied the snowman.
“I know”
They stayed there, side by side.
#writing
“Well, so are you,” replied the snowman.
“I know”
They stayed there, side by side.
#writing
February 1, 2024 at 11:21 PM
The weird kid grabbed the branch as it were a hand, and sat next to the snowman he had made. “Some months will pass, and you’ll be gone.” The child turned to face his creation. “You’re so ephemeral."
“Well, so are you,” replied the snowman.
“I know”
They stayed there, side by side.
#writing
“Well, so are you,” replied the snowman.
“I know”
They stayed there, side by side.
#writing