Welcome to Rory’s Story Cubes! I purchased the app for my phone, and it’s great fun. It has nine die, with 54 images. You shake your phone to shake up the die,  and–presto–story inspiration! You can also purchase and combine different sets of die. My set of inspiring images for the week is in the picture above…except the shepherd’s crook, which I simply couldn’t work into the story. You’ll see what I mean.

How do those images inspire you? I invite you to share in my comments.

Now, with no further ado…flash fiction inspired by the set of images above.

Rory’s Story Cubes Flash Fiction, Day One

Jeremy had seen it. He had seen it.

In a dream, or a memory, or a book, he couldn’t tell. A dream about a book? A memory of a dream?

But it was vivid enough it had him in an elevator, headed to the roof of the 109-story City Tower at 2 AM, despite the sign reading, “Elevator Tours Close Nightly at 10 PM.”

The elevator’s numbers whizzed past 45—88—100 until it slowed to a stop at “R”, and he got out. But instead of seeing the rooftop, he saw a brick wall with a heavy steel security door secured by an employee badge door lock.

He looked up at the security camera and shrugged, tugging out the only thing in his pocket: a credit card he’d maxed-out months earlier. Not expecting much, he slid the card through. Surprisingly, a nearby keypad lit up.

He hazarded a guess and entered the last four digits of his phone number. The keypad flashed red, then reverted to electronic green. The last four digits of his Social Security number?

The door popped open.

Now that’s weird.

He looked at his watch. According to the book—or the dream or whatever—he had just a few minutes left to find it. He felt like a detective with a magnifying lens as he looked around for—whatever.

He heard footsteps running up behind him.

Jeremy turned to see a man with a gun charging at him.

Jeremy froze in fear. As he worked to begin breathing again, a woman came up from behind him. “He’ll kill you! Come with me.” she shouted.

She grabbed his arm, forcing him along with her, taking large strides to the edge of the roof.

Throwing her other arm around him so that he was in a big bear hug, she jumped. Taking him with her.

He heard a scream, then realized it was own.

“Shut up,” she hissed as she pulled a cord dangling from her jacket.

A parachute opened up, and their mad descent to the earth slowed.

“Who are you? What’s going on?” I demanded.

“Shut up,” she hissed into his ear.

He obeyed till they landed in the dark, deserted alley behind City Tower. As the woman let go of him, he grabbed her arm hard. He refused to let her get away without giving him some answers. His face two inches from hers, he repeated, “Who are you?”

She held up her hand, palm toward him. “Shut up, Jeremy,” she whispered. “Go home. Now!”

He only had time to take in the square tattoo with the block letter L in it on her palm before she twisted neatly out of his grasp and disappeared around the corner.

Alone in an unfamiliar city, with only the nearby traffic sounds of a major thoroughfare.

Where was the gunman?

But before he could form the thought completely, his phone rang.

Pulling it out of his pocket, he glanced at the incoming text message. It was from his credit company. “Thank you for your purchase at City Tower. One million dollars has been charged to your account. You have thirty-nine million dollars left before you reach your credit limit.”

The End

Tune in for more next week