“Kenkey for Ewes and Other Very Short Stories”

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It gives us great pleasure to finally publish this long-overdue anthology. To anyone who may be asking “What is flash fiction?”, you can orient yourself here.

We are grateful to all featured authors for their patience with us during the protracted editing period.

Download your copy here: Kenkey for Ewes and other very short stories

Happy Reading,
The FlashFictionGhana Team.

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“Timeless” by Frederick Owusu.

“My name is George Wells. I am speaking from the Atomic Physics Research Lab in the University of Ghana School of Nuclear and Allied Sciences. The date is October 23rd, 2017- a day to be remembered for centuries to come. Today, I embark on a great journey- a journey unfathomable to great thinkers, scientists and laymen alike. I attempt to defy not only the laws of physics, but rational thought as we know it. I am unsure what the outcome will be, but…”

BEEP!

The phone vibrated loudly against the table and broke my train of thought. I groaned loudly, stopped the video camera recording and looked across the table. It was a message from Naa.

Bridesmaaaid! Lol . My hair and makeup is finally done!

A picture of her face popped up on my screen. She was dolled up and magnificent, her white veil lifted above her head.

I’m speechless. You look amazing.

I typed this, sighed and then put the phone down, cursing myself for getting so emotional.

I can’t believe it’s really happening! I’m soo nervous. 😦

I looked at the screen tentatively, and then picked it up again.

You’ll be fine.

Gyasi said I look like a princess! Aw! He’s so sweet.

Leave me alone, I wanted to type, but I let the phone sit where it was instead. I’d heard enough about Gyasi. The man who was everything I was not. Perfect yet so preciously human. The thought of her marrying him was sickening.

“I’m done with the calibration- was that Naa?” Saviour said. He had stopped monitoring the machine and was watching me.

“It’s not important,” I replied brusquely. He turned silently, pretending not to notice the hurt look on my face.

I ached to tell her that I loved her, that I could not bear to live in a universe where she was not mine. That I was leaving her, forever. But there was no point. Once I got back, the present would be altered anyway. Or the experiment would fail- and I would be dead.

Behind me, the machine hummed and whirred. It would be fully operational- and I would be gone- within the next hour. I would have stopped by the wedding: I wanted to say goodbye. But I just couldn’t bring myself to it.

I don’t know why Saviour chose to help me. He, like the other professors, argued that time was an illusory concept- unreal. There was no way to change the past, they believed; let alone visit it. Perhaps however, he’d finally realized that I had no other options.

I put the video recorder back on, and sat down in front of it.

“We believe we have found a way to artificially manufacture wormholes- portals through space and time.  Our tests indicate that they may be traversable. If this is correct, we are looking at the world’s first time mach-”

BEEP! My phone went off again. Bridesmaid! When are you getting here? I’m walking down the aisle in 30!

I looked longingly at the screen, at Naa’s face, for the last time. Then I switched the phone off. She would be crushed, but not too crushed. After all, she had Gyasi. It struck me as odd, how I could be so petty at the dawn of what might be humanity’s greatest moment.

The machine engine sputtered and began to shake violently.

“Something’s wrong! The energy levels are increasing!” Saviour called out.

I didn’t hear him. I looked in between the scattered books on the table and grabbed a pen and paper. I wanted to leave a message.

“George! The hole is unstable; it could collapse any minute now! You have to go.”

I propped the pen down and stood up. Taking one last look at the phone, I turned and headed towards the machine.

VOOM!

A huge burst of energy shot out and shook the room dangerously. I stumbled, then got up quickly, slightly confused.

“It’s getting worse!” He cried.

I stopped short of the machine’s open doors, and turned back to Saviour. “This feels like an execution,” I said, more to myself than he.

“It is! Please George, you don’t do have to do this!”

For the first time in a while, I considered that. I thought of Saviour and the world as I knew it. Everything I was leaving behind. Then I thought of Naa, in her flowing white dress, and her bright smile. The machine’s hum had increased to a grating buzz.

“Tell her I loved her, in a place where there was no space and time.” I said somberly. I could see sadness in his eyes.

“I have no more time left, Saviour. Thank you for everything.”

I imagined myself walking to meet a beautiful bride, and love and happiness as I stepped into the time machine, disappearing into a blaze of blinding light.

“40/40” by Kiiki Quarm.

Such ingratitude.

This is not the reaction I was expecting. I thought they would be grateful. Beatific, even. Now all will benefit from Sokpe’s lake.
You see, I have achieved –

Wow. The entire village is outside my door. Well, they asked me to stay. To help ‘improve their lives’. What did they expect? So ungrateful…

Like I was saying, I have achieved something great. I have enhanced human vi –

‘COME OUT HERE NOW!’ Kwame Asamoah screams.

They are banging on my door with large sticks now.

‘DOCTOR! SHOW YOURSELF!’

 ‘GET OUT HERE YOU SWINE!’

‘What have you done?!’

I poured everything into the lake. They encouraged me. Maybe I shouldn’t have told them the compound was meant to purify the lake’s water. Lies upset people. Even when they are safer than the truth.

More banging.

They all shouldn’t be bathing in one water body anyway.

I invented a new compound. One that can do something no other chemical can. I could be one of the most celebrated scientists the world has ever seen. I could –

The front door has been broken down now. They will find me soon.

What I was trying to do was make the people of this village superior to everybody else. What I did –

Uh-oh. Not so soon.

They can hear me breathing.

‘He’s in here,’ John Darko, who I cured of malaria just last week, says.

Footsteps. Angry ones.

About five people. On the count of three, they will break down the storeroom door.

I gave them better vision and yet they still cannot see…

I can’t wait to see their new looks.

The door is pushed down and my face is introduced to the hateful pressure of Papa Asare’s fist.

I catch a glimpse of his beautiful, improved face before I crumble to the ground.

Awurade Nyankopon. Give people a third eye and this is how they repay you.