Open call for Artists


FLASHSTORIES.INFO is accepting open submissions for Original Artwork.

What we are looking for:

  • Artists that can do illustrations (color or b&w is fine) of Characters, or scenes from the stories featured here at Flashstories.  Will consider some cartooning.
  • Include a color letter with your artwork: Let us know a little about you, and where we can sent folks to view your work.
  • Sorry there is no payment at this time other than the CREDIT you deserve.  Which will be heaped upon you in salutations and gratitudes.
  • Your work will be credited here at FLASHSTORIES with a link to your email, website, twitter or Facebook page.
  • You retain all Rights to your work.  We only ask to use and promote your work here at FLASHSTORIES.

Include with your cover letter your artwork in .gif or .jpg format only.  Email to  Subject line ARTWORK SUBMISSION.  Please allow up to 2 weeks for reply.  If your artwork is approved you will receive confirmation and be contacted for contact information to post for credit for your work.

We would like to see artwork of Gideon, Death Dealer, Madam Satan, Father Time or any of the characters portrayed in stories found at FLASHSTORIES.  Questions please inquiry.   Post subject line: ARTWORK INQUIRY.  All inquiries will be answered with 2 days.


I Fuck Pigs for Jesus. Gideon # 4: Footnote


You can listen to the tune “I Fuck Pigs For Jesus,” that was depicted in Gideon # 4:  Cultists of T’teth.

The song is from the one of the most unique musical artists ever encountered.  ARMY OF GAY UNICORNS.  You can listen and download their music for free. Check it out.

Dear Readers


A note from your author,

I really appreciate all the positive feedback from everyone that has read my stories that I have posted here for peer review.  I appreciate your comments, suggestions, and reviews.  It has empowered me to take the next step after hours of editing, and preparing manuscripts to go forward with submitting some of my stories to various different publishing markets out there, namely magazines.

Currently I am submitting several stories for consideration with various markets.  The stories that I have and will submit will be posted for one last peer review before I remove them from this site.  Where they will be no longer available as the final draft is being considered for publication.  Again I appreciate all who have given their feedback and comments as I finalized my drafts.

I regret in having to remove stories that I have finalized, as it removes content from the site.  But there will always be more.

For everyone that enjoyed helping review my stories, if they see publication I will inform you where to find them.  If not then I will post the final drafts back to this site.

Happy Reading!

Top Stories by R. Archer for the past week


The Top Stories for the past week here at FlashStories.Info are the following:

Thanks to the READERS that made these stories the top stories of the past week.

Strange Tales: The Lucky Carnation by R. Archer


The Lucky Carnation

R. Archer


January 8th, 1897, it was a cold day in White House. No matter what the President did he could not stay warm, it felt as if there was a chill chasing him from room to room of the White House as he sought to find a room that was warmer than the last.

He passed the servants quarters, one of their doors was open. At this time of night there was usually no one awake, but the door had been left open. Not trying to be nosy but curious the President stopped before the door he reached across the threshold to grab the knob. He did not know who lived in this room, nor did he care. But the warmth of it was more than inviting. It was a plain room as most of the servant quarters where,  but the hearth was full of life. Casting a warmth that chilled his arthritic bones. He stood before the blaze in the fire place and warmed himself.

It was just another one of those nights when the President could not sleep, he was still dressed in his suit from early in the day, having never made his way to bed. He would sit for hours each night and read trying to bring weariness a pun his mind, so he could doze off to sleep. But tonight something was nagging him in the back of his mind and he did not know what it was. He was cold and ached. He took a walk as he sometimes did late at night after reading through the White House, he would contemplate those that had lived her before him this great house and those that would follow him. Despite the walking the cold seemed to follow him where ever he went till it drove him to seek warmth.

He was beginning to feel the work of the day catch up with him. He thought to warm himself a little longer for the chilly walk back to his room.

“Pardon me Sir,” a female voice broke the presidents thoughts.  He turned to confront whom he presumed to be the occupant of the room he found himself in.

There was one of the servants he recognized the face, but could not remember the name. She was the grand daughter of a freed slave that been employed at the white house. He knew she was a 3rd generation employee. There was something else he remembered about her but he could not place a finger on it. She carried in her hand the chamber pot and politely slid it under the bed.

“May I help you Mr. President William,” she said. She awaited his response courtly.

“My apologies my dear, I was having trouble sleeping as I often do and decided to take a walk.  I got cold, found your door open and the warmth was so inviting to these old bones,” The President replied.

“This is your house Sir,” She said. “I can leave you alone if you like.”

“No I was just leaving hope I did not impose on you,” the President said. He stopped before her and gave her a smile. Then it hit him, he remembered something about her now that he had forgotten.

She was rumored to have the sight, as did her mother before her, and her’s before her.

“Is there something else Sir?” she questioned, looking at him with her big brown eyes.

“Well actually there is my dear, I have heard that you have the sight. That you can see things that will happen.” The President responded.

“Yes I can get a glimpse of the future some times, by not like my grand mum she had more of the vision that I do.” She wrung her hands before her, somewhat embarrassed that she would be remembered for something that she like to keep secret.

“Could you tell me what you see in my future?,” the President asked.

“I could try,” she said. The servant woman motioned for the President sit in the chair next to the fire place.

Once sat, the president stared up at her not knowing what to expect. “Give me your hands,” she said. Standing before the president she looked at the back of his hands, then turned them over to examine the palms. “This one will do,” she said holding on to his right hand. She studied it for a few moments, then she finally she spoke.

“I see that you will win the war against the Spanish.” she said. She traced her finger along a line in his palm. “Wait I see,” she paused and looked up at the President.

The President looked into her eyes, and knew she had seen something else. “What is it my dear?”

She swallowed. “I see that you are protected by something that you wear, but you will give this protection away and it will mean your death is to follow.”

The President looked at her, he was some what aghast. He personally did not believe in spiritualism or ?fortune telling, but he did find the subjects interesting. “Can you tell me what this protection is?” he asked.

“No Sir, I can not see it, but I know it is something that you always wear.” She released his hand.

The President bid her good night and not to concern herself with what she had seen. He walked back to his room he was no longer cold trying to forget what he had heard.

* * *

September 6, 1901. The President prepared to enter the hall where the Pan-American exhibit was being held. He noticed a small girl struggling to see him through the gathered adults. He stopped removed his carnation that he always wore for good luck and handed it to the girl. A second later a gun shot rang out. A bullet struck the President in the chest where the carnation had been.

President William McKinley died eight days later.

(C)opyright 2013. R. Archer. All Rights Reserved.

Virtual Immortality Just Around the Corner by R. Archer.


When we look to the future it is not to hard see a virtual world just around the corner. Every year computers become twice as fast as they where the year before, or if not faster. Capable of calculating all the computations necessary to maintain a virtual world. We as a civilization are on the dawn of a new technological era with the advancements in computer virtual technologies. Advancements that could take us into a virtual world where we can be anything or anyone we choose to be or be any place or time within the limits of the virtual programming.

There is currently a project headed by Russian billionaire Dmitry Itskov that would like to see virtual immortality become a reality. The goal of this team of scientists is to be able to upload the human consciousness to a computer by the year 2045. Can anyone say Matrix?

This teetering on the edge of a virtual world for civilization opens up a very large can of worms. When man can upload his consciousness to a computer system, and exist in any virtual world of his choosing or conscious creation, would not man be a god himself? Would he not be immortal?

The ramifications of this ever achieving fruition are dumbfounding. But it would seem to me there would be one problem with this logic. The virtual God-Man would be dependent upon a power source sufficient to run the computer into infinity. It would seem logical that man could engineer power sources that could last almost indefinitely.  But could man account for the unexpected, that could come along and damage or remove that power source? An example, lets say 50,000 years from now we are living in pods like in the matrix, in our own little worlds, and along comes a meteor that devastates the planet.

We would never know what happened, we would be snuffed out, our fantasy worlds gone in an instant. Then we find out or not if there truly is an after life beyond the virtual world.

Doom & Gloom Prophet Al Gore is full of Shit by R. Archer


When we think of bloat, corruption, lies and the like compounded with politicians we think of President Obama, but compared to former Vice-President Al Gore, Obama is just a rookie. Al Gore has made a fortune by the demagoguery of doom and gloom, while at the same time promoting and lobbying for green energy.

Gore has cried and predicted woes for the planet for a long time, and only two years ago the Prophet Al Gore predicted that the North Pole would be “ice free.” The culprit, “Global Warming,” was to blame. This age-old modern myth that the planet is warming due to man kind, and all the crap that man pollutes the atmosphere with, is nothing more than bullshit, and one of the biggest scams ever pulled on the general populace. Which many of us sheeple faithfully believe in as true is nothing more than a load of crap, which has helped make Al Gore a very rich man. If we could only read the Prophet Al Gore’s mind, you know what you would hear?


(C)opyright 2013. R. Archer. All Rights Reserved.