Friday Fictioneers 7-2-2018

 
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


He sat frowning, frustrated, staring at the small workstation stuck in the corner of the room. It wasn’t like he couldn’t write here, but the lack of space, and freedom, irked his sense of creativity.

Picking up a guitar, he stepped onto the balcony and settled into a chair, strumming softly. Singing softer, words for his ears only.

The sky was bright blue, fluffed with clouds. A breeze nuzzled his hair and, for the first time in days, he was content.

Music rolled off his fingers, words from his tongue. Angels bending down around him, whispering in his ear.

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Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 6-20-2018

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Enisa.

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 in the amount of words).

 


She sat at the rickety table, staring at the one thing she had left (besides the crappy furniture and the cracked mirror in the bathroom). A fake crystal vase. He’d given it to her once upon a time, with a single peach rose inside, a token of his love.

A love that hadn’t lasted long until the lies started and never stopped. Bad enough a divorce and then the medical problems and now bankruptcy. Where, and how, had she gone wrong?

Was it wrong to want to live a normal life? To experience love and happiness? To honor truth? Sometimes, she felt that it was, at least for her.

Maybe, she didn’t deserve a normal life, even if she wasn’t sure why. Something had to be wrong with her, didn’t it?

Didn’t it?

Rising, she walked to the back door and stared outside.

Sunset, a beautiful sky.

The last day of despair?

Or, simply the last day?

(157)

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 6-15-2018

photo prompt from wildverbs

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 in the amount of words).


“Where would you go, ?” Jace wondered, “if you swan down inside the fountain?” He was always asking questions like that, nonsense really. Impossible fantasies.

I turned towards him. “Everybody knows you’d go down into the things that make the fountain work.” Pipes and plumbing, of course, but I didn’t know the words or the details then. I still don’t know the details, but I’ve gotten the basics down.

“Are there whales down there?”

“Of course not, Stupid!”

“Baby whales?”

I pushed him off the bench and ran away. Mom found him later, still on the bench, still watching. Still dreaming dreams nobody understood.

I remember those days on the bench, watching the fountain. Sometimes ducks would come, treading water with orange paddle feet.

Sometimes….

I tuck the picture away into my pocket, hidden but not forgotten, knowing something soon would spark the memories, bring him back to me, if only for an instant.

 

 

 

 

Friday Fictioneers 6-14-2018

 
PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

Danny watched the quail pacing back and forth outside the screen, forehead scrunched in concentration.

“What’s wrong?” Mom asked.

“Quail.”

“Why is it on the window ledge?”

“Quail.”

“It doesn’t look injured.”

“Quail.”

“It’s not nesting season.”

“Quail.”

Mom looked at Danny and smiled. “You’re right, Danny. The quail has come to visit. We should offer it something.”

Danny took a slice of bread and shuffled out the door, flopping to the ground. With a hop, the quail bobbed over and pecked at the bread.

Mom smile. Thank heavens for small miracles.

 

 

Friday Fictioneers 5-24-2018

 
PHOTO PROMPT submitted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


 

He stood, fingering the fake ivy inside her favorite crystal bowl. Trust Mom to have fake ivy. Easier on the pocketbook, she’d say.

Looked around the kitchen. Everything in its place. Ultra-functional. Spick and span.

The house was silent. Empty. Hours until the rest of the family would arrive. More hours until the house would fill with mourners and food. Maybe Mrs. Hutchinson would bring her famous Mac-n-Cheese. He’d loved that as a boy. Ms. Smith’s Watergate Cake.

The doorbell rang and the postman handed him a pile of mail. Mrs. Natisha Crenshaw.

He stood for a long time, mail in hand, finally able to cry.

Friday Fictioneers 5-19-2018

 
PHOTO PROMPT submitted by Courtney Wright.


They stood on the leaf-littered street staring at the abandoned boots, looking as if they’d been put aside for just a moment, waiting patiently for their wearer to return.

“Do you think she’ll be back?”

He rubbed a thumb over the bristles on his chin. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.”

“She’s dead?”

“Probably.”

“Are you gonna die?”

“Eventually.”

“Me, too?”

“You, too.”

“I wish we had a flower.”

“We don’t.”

They stood a while longer then walked on, holding hands, saying nothing as dusk swallowing the land.

Then, in the dark. “Where are we going, Dad?”

“Nowhere, son. Nowhere.”

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 5-19-2018

 
This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yinglan.

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 in the amount of words).


He stood gazing up at the plane hung realistically overhead, imaging it in the sky beyond instead of the over-sized museum around them. Imagined stars sparkling and exploding millions of light-years away. Or was it that the stars had already expired millions of years ago and the light was only now reaching them?

Did it matter? Not really? Either way, those stars were long gone, as well as anything beyond.

“Daddy! Come on,” his twins yelled from behind, patter of feet as they ran across the floor. “They got a space capsule over here!”

He turned, following giggles and shrieks.

“Look Daddy! Look!”

“Space!”

“Yes,” he said softly, glancing back once. A million light years and nothing left behind.

No going home now.

(131)