2026 February Flash Fiction Challenge: Day 3
Write a piece of flash fiction each day of February with the February Flash Fiction Challenge. Today’s prompt is to write about someone selling their soul.
Some first-week reminders:
1. There is no sign-up. All you need to do is visit WritersDigest.com every day this month and click on the day's prompt.
2. You share your works in the comments section. To find the comments, just scroll all the way down to the bottom of the page, write your story right in the text box or copy/paste (whichever you prefer!), and hit submit.
3. You don't need to share your work to participate. A lot of writers aren't comfortable sharing their work here. That's totally OK! The main thing is that you're writing something every day.
4. The system will occasionally flag stories for review. There is nothing wrong with your work; our platform does it randomly. We will be going through and releasing stories periodically between the hours of 9 a.m.–5 p.m. EST Monday through Friday. If your story is flagged, just sit tight. It'll be released!
For today's prompt, write about someone selling their soul.
(Note: If your story gets flagged for review, be patient—we will be releasing comments every few hours throughout the weekdays of this challenge. Our system randomly flags comments for review, so just sit tight and wait for us to set it free! If you run into any other issues with posting your story, please just send me an e-mail at mrichard@aimmedia.com with the subject line: Flash Fiction Challenge Commenting Issue.)
Here’s my attempt at a story about someone selling their soul:
The Price of a Soul
“The PTO package is a bit slim,” Michael said.
The HR woman’s holo fizzled a bit and then returned to normal. She tapped her finger on what he assumed was her desk, which looked odd from where she hovered over his breakfast spread.
“I can give you five more PTO days,” she said eventually, “but the healthcare rate is firm. Nothing we can do about that, as it’s built into the company’s contract.”
“Understood.” He shoved a huge piece of waffle into his mouth, dripping with syrup, and chewed slowly. The syrup was real, not replicated. Part of the gig was good, natural foods, he supposed.
“Is there anything else you wanted to negotiate today?” she asked. “I can give you another 24 to consider, but we really do need your decision by the end of that timeframe.”
He swallowed and set his fork down. “I don’t need the extra time. I’m in. When do we stage my death?”
She gave him a smile with too many teeth, one that radiated victory. “The agency will be in contact within the hour to discuss details. I’ll have the paperwork in your inbox…now.”
His wrist dinged, and he twisted his hand to see the notification come across the screen embedded there. “Got it.”
“Wonderful. Welcome to the agency, sir. We’re happy to have you.”
He gave her a lazy salute and closed the holo screen. Looking out the hotel’s window, he let himself feel one moment of regret. Then he packed it away in a neat little box in his mind.
Temporal assassin. It would be an adventure, to say the least.
