Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 12-13-2017

This week’s photo prompt is provided by yarnspinner.
 Guide for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
1. A prompt photo will be provided each Monday pm to be used as a base to your story. Please include photo prompt with your story.
2. Linking for this challenge begins on Monday pm and runs to the following Monday pm.
3. Please credit photo to photographer.
4. The story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words). Please try to stay within this limit.
5. Please indicate the number of words in your story at the end of your story. (It doesn’t count into the amount of words).


“What the….”

“Language!”

“Sorry.” Leaning closer, he studied the plate. “What in the… world… is that?”

She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Does it matter! I’m not going to eat  anything looking like that!”

“Oh, come on, don’t be a whiner. We paid a lot of money to attend this event.”

“Wasted money, if this,” pointing downwards, “is the fare!”

He turned his head back and forth, bent over to look at the plate upside down. Nothing made the contents of the plate more palatable. Or recognizable.

“Nope, no way am I eating … whatever it is.”

He gave up, turning to look around the ballroom.

She hummed and hawed, cajoled and begged, but he remained steadfast.

“Oh, for good grief,” she finally said, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the exit. “This is the thanks I get for trying to expand our horizons!”

He said nothing. Steak and potatoes. A few green beans to cleanse the palette. Apple pie.

Why would anyone want to expand from the best?

(176)

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Sunday Photo Fiction 12-6-2017

219 12 December 3rd 2017


He watched the hotel draw closer as the boat slipped through the water, studying the almost-blank face of the building. To be honest, it looked more like an apartment building on the steadily-growing-seedy side of town than a five-star hotel.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, coming up beside him and sliding an arm around his waist.

He’d seen better, but didn’t say so. This was special to her, even if it wasn’t to him. It should be special to him, but he just couldn’t make it so in his own heart.

Truthfully, he loved her but he didn’t much like her anymore. Her neediness; her desperation to fit into his world when she didn’t. The band tolerated her because of him.

And that was a bad sign.

Because he loved her, he’d arranged this last weekend. It was gonna hurt like hell to walk away, but he would. Family was more important and the band was his family.

Turning to her, he smiled, determined to give her one more happy memory.


Friday Fictioneers 12-6-2017

PHOTO PROMPT  © Dale Rogerson


A Father’s Love

It’d been years since he’d been inside a school and the ice outside mirrored the cold inside his heart. He’d ruled school, yet lived against a backdrop of emptiness and fear and alienation. He hadn’t known it then, but it was true.

“This is a very serious issue.”

“I understand, however, I seriously doubt Sammy intentionally pointed his pencil at the student’s eye. Five year olds aren’t normally weapon-wielding maniacs.”

“We have to take ever incident seriously.”

“I understand. As do I.”

Taking his son by the hand, they walked out of the principal’s office.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 12-5-2017

 Guide for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
1. A prompt photo will be provided each Monday pm to be used as a base to your story. Please include photo prompt with your story.
2. Linking for this challenge begins on Monday pm and runs to the following Monday pm.
3. Please credit photo to photographer.
4. The story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words). Please try to stay within this limit.
5. Please indicate the number of words in your story at the end of your story. (It doesn’t count into the amount of words).
This week’s photo prompt is provided by Enisa.


The kitten snuggled down in his lap, purring loudly, as if she knew they were heading to the barn. Most of her time there was spend snuggling on a hay bale in the breezeway, watching and listening and, occasionally, trotting off to deal with an errant mouse. She didn’t kill the mice; she wasn’t that kind of cat. What she did was scare their little mouse stuffings out so they never bothered to return.

Some of the horses snickered at her, but she paid them no mind. What did they know about catness? Most of the time, they barely seemed to understand horseness. Her person understood catness and she understood Joshness. For that, she was perfectly pleased.

Come nighttime, they drove back to their place, eating hot dogs and spaghetti in front of a tiny black and white TV, before curling up on their narrow cot. Tucked behind his knees, she purred them both to sleep.

Sunday Photo Fiction 11-25-2017


“Did you know praying mantises used to be worshiper as Gods?”

“God of bugs?”

“The harvest.”

“Harvest? Don’t they eat the harvest or something?”

He shook his head. “That’s grasshoppers. They eat insects.”

“Others insects?”

“And each other.”

“So why did they worship them as Gods?”

“Because, see it’s front arms. It looks like it is praying.”

“Well, sort of.”

“It does.”

They were silent for a few moments, watching the insect on the wall; filled with the wonder of life all around them, thick with the scent of fresh-cut hay and horses.

The shadow of their father fell over them, hands folded in prayer.

Friday Fictioneers 11-25-2017

PHOTO PROMPT ©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
 

Michael stood in the doorway, staring in at the wreck beyond. What the….?

“Danielle!”

A petite face peered around the door. “Yes?”

His eyes took in the mess again, then turned to her.  “Didn’t I ask you to clean your room?”

“Yes?”

“And it’s not cleaned…. why?”

“I forgot.”

He closed his eyes, just for a second. “Have you remembered now?”

She pursed her lips,  shrugged.  “Maybe.” And disappeared back behind the door.

He walked away.  Daughters…. god’s way of saying you’ve lost all control of your life.

God bless, them.

Friday Fictioneers 11-19-2017

 PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

She ran towards the building, screaming.

A fireman caught her around the waist. “You can’t go closer, lady, it’s too dangerous.

“But, my baby!”

“Your baby is in there?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

She pointed to a window just above the raging fire.  That floor, too, would soon be engulfed in flames.

He ran towards the building, Half hour later, he walked back, a bundle in his arms.

“Oh thank you!”

He deposited the wiggling bundle into her arms. A little brown head poked from the bundle, licked her nose.

He just smiled and walked away, vanishing into the smoke