Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Week 1-10 to 01-16-2017

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This week’s photo prompt is provided by Louise with The Storyteller’s Abode. Thank you Louise!

Guide for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

1. A prompt photo will be provided each Tuesday to be used as a base to your story. Please include photo prompt with your story.

2. Linking for this challenge begins on Tuesday and runs to the following Monday evening.

3. Please credit photo to photographer.

4. The story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words). Please try to stay within this limit.


They stepped onto the boat, woman flinching as the deck tilted beneath her, gentleman assisting her to a seat. He chose to stand at the stern, clear view to where she sat.

He should have killed her the minute she knew, but he hadn’t. And he was pretty pissed at himself for not having done so. With so many ways she might destroy him, he needed to find out how she’d known.

Besides, a watery grave was no better, nor worse, than one landlocked.

The cool of the night surrounded him, moonlight sparkling off water, beautiful against the garish lights of the taxi. So much to do before he abandoned his life here. He’d liked living here, loved it in fact. But done is done.

He’d only taken his gaze from her for an instant, but when he looked again she was no longer in her seat. His eyes searched the boat, nostrils flared, but no matter what he thought, wanted, or believed, she was gone.

Sunday Photo Fiction – October 23rd 2016

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The idea of Sunday Photo Fiction is to create a story / poem or something using around about 200 words with the photo as a guide.

The city stretched before him, tangled mass of metal and humans and fear. Oh, yes, fear. Humans lived with fear so intricately tangled into every aspect of their lives, they had forgotten what it meant to be free. No masters needed to put the human race in slavery, they did that for themselves, no matter the color of their skin. Slavery, after all, isn’t all chains and whips. Each village build, tower raised, each step of ‘progress’ took men further from the truth. They told stories to trap the monsters and gods out of their lives and into books. Fiction. Forgotten. Dust.

Gods gave meaning to the lives of men, but mankind didn’t want freedom. He was not, would not, would never be the god of fear, rather the god of everything free – free speech, free lives, free minds.

Time to retire to Shady Groves Forgotten Gods Home in the sky.

Maybe… just maybe, Loki had waited for his next move in their chess game. Probably not, the little stinker.  He cheated.

Opening his eyes, he studied the chess board.  Good thing he was the god of Memory too.

Resistentialism

What exactly is Resistentialism? I’d never heard the word until it popped up on a Word-of-the-Day blog.

Short and sweet, it means:

“The tenet that inanimate objects have an intrinsic tendency to resist us, thwarting our objectives.
– Demitri Borgmann

Or “inanimate items hate humans.”

For the first time, my poo-pooed suspicion had to be right. I have been, and are, embroiled in a hopeless battle to prove my point. Ten watches, each one working exactly a year before dying.  Car breaking down for no reason. A TV remote which will not let me see my station. Toasters that refuse to toast. And on and on….

It’s either that or Brownies are sneaking in at night to break anything they know will frustrate me.

Damn Brownies.

I think , however, I am going to stick with the Brownie theory. It doesn’t frustrate me quite as much.  And how cool would it be to  have their magic in my life.

Now, if I could just find my keys…….

 

Guide for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

64th Challenge

Week of 05-03 through 05-09-2016

Guide for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

1. A prompt photo will be provided each Tuesday to be used as a base to your story. Please include photo prompt with your story.

2. Linking for this challenge begins on Tuesday and runs to the following Monday evening.

3. Please credit photo to photographer

4. The story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words). Please try to stay within this limit.

untitledThis week’s photo prompt is provided by momtheobscure.

 

“It once spanned the expanse of the shore, out to some island or another.”

I squinted. “There isn’t an island.”

“Which is why its ‘some island or another.'”

Silence.

“So what happened? To the island?”

“It sank.”

“Sank?  What is this Atlantis?”

He glanced at me pityingly. “It is Atlas, you know.”

“I thought Atlas held up the world.”

“What is this world but a bridge to the next?”

“So the myths got it wrong?”

“Only the artists, at least since man discovered the world wasn’t flat.

I turned, but he was gone. On the bridge, he waved once and leapt.

Daily Post One Word Prompt – Borrow

It started on Sunday.  Everything started on Sunday.  He’d borrowed the chain saw on Sunday to cut down a tree and it fell on his house, crushing half the roof.  He’d borrowed a car to get materials to repair the roof and had an accident. Well, he hadn’t had an accident. Somebody had an accident on him. The week before, he’d borrowed a pair of clippers and nearly sheered his hand off. Borrowed a plastic bag to take his clothes home from the Emergency Room, fumbled the bag with his bandaged hand, slipped and ended up back in the hospital with a busted head.

Monday through Saturday were fine. Dandy. Pleasant even. But come Sunday…

This Sunday, he’d decided to stay home, read the paper in bed. Breakfast on the patio. Nap. Drink tea. Settle in to catch up on his favorite TV shows.

Waking, he picked up a magazine, settling back with a sigh of contentment. The paper’s edge sliced three fingers.  He’d borrowed it from his neighbor. Burned himself on his sister’s pan. Dropped his Aunt’s teakettle on his foot. Rolled off the sofa he’d borrowed from his parents. Shocked himself setting up the borrowed DVD player.

He was never going to borrow anything ever again.  And, next Sunday, he was staying in bed.

 

Borrowed

Daily Post One Word Prompt -Superstition 4-8-2016

Superstition

“You don’t want black candles,” he told me.

“I do want black candles,” I replied, ignoring his sounds of disapproval as I continued to count out the candles needed for the party.

“Why?” I could hear the anger in his voice.

Why? “Because you can’t have a spooky party with pink and yellow candles!”

He growled. “Superstition.”

I just rolled my eyes, gathering up my purchases to head to the cashier. I hated his superior voice. “It’s not superstition. That would be believing in a lucky rabbit’s foot or that a crow caw means bad luck.” I glanced at him. “Black candles are just black candles.”

“I won’t come if you are doing demonic… things.”

I laughed, much to his irritation. “Demonic… things?  Like demonic line-dancing?  Or maybe Demonic tiddlywinks? Oh…. Demonic Risk, now there’s a rocking game.”

“Listen, Ro….”

“No, you listen.  I don’t mind you being a curmudgeon boyfriend, but really, this is too much.” I turned to him between rows of Halloween costumes. Squared off. “Either shut up or don’t come.”

Our eyes locked for a long  moment before I turned on my heels and continued to the smiling cashier. Dumping my armload on the counter, I pulled out my Debit card.

“Looks like you are going to have a great party,” she smiled, starting to ring up my purchases.

“Yes,” I agreed with a smile,  raising my voice to add, “And that Ouija Board is going to be a blast!”

The store’s door slammed.

Jerk.

Putting him out of mind. I hurried home to begin decorationing.

Michael watched her drive away from the cab of his truck, eyes dark as night. He’d save her… he’d darn well save her… even if she didn’t want to be saved.