Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 2-4-2018

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 Goroyboy


He cupped his hand just so, letting the rays of the sun golden his fingertips as if he held a tiny sun inside. He wasn’t a magician. More of a teacher, guiding those who listened and heard and saw.

…………..

“There has to be some way to destroy him.”

“Shootings always worked for ya’ll,” the Sheriff said pleasantly.

“After Waco, we’d be crucified!”

“Well,” with a chuckle, “That was ya’ll fault ya know.”

“Whatever. We need to take this cult down now.”

“Don’t rightly think it’s a cult, son,” the Sheriff said, but no one heard.

The FBI agents huddled, whispering plans.

“Gonna get me a donut,” the Sheriff said and walked out of his office, grabbing a jelly filled on his way out the back door.

“Jake,” he said into his cell.  “You gotta get out of there.”

“Perhaps dying is my way to making my point.”

“Then it’s a stupid point! Just take yours and go.”

“Mine are already gone.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you go with’em?”

“My path is not to run from hell.”

“God-a-lordy!” The sheriff swore as Jake hung up. Stuffed the donut into his mouth.

He hated Mondays.

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Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 1-26-2018

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….? What is this?”

“It’s a bench.”

“Not any bench I’ve ever seen.”

“Your loss, city boy. Try it.”

“What’s it made of?”

“Wood.”

“Like from a tree?”

“More countrified ever minute.”

He circled the bench doubtfully.

“Does it have bugs?”

“You’re afraid of bugs?”

“No… just …the bugs at home are huge.”

“You should see the mosquitoes here. Ginormous.”

She plopped down on one end. “Gonna be outdone by a country girl?”

He sat gingerly on the other end, settled himself down. “This isn’t bad at all!”

“We’ll made of country boy of you yet!”

(86)

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 1-22-2018

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 @any1mark66.


The double rainbow wasn’t new. They appeared after most every storm. What was new was the shining square where the brighter rainbow touched down. They didn’t really touch down. That was an old wives tale left over from the Irish and their leprechauns.

Still, he reined his horse towards the rainbow’s end and the blazing square of white light. Fifty yards away, he dismounted, dropping the reins to the ground. His horse settled, lipping dried grass.

He walked forward, amazed to see golden letters blazing from the whiteness. More amazed to see colors melding with ground, a blaze of color stretching like a road before him.

His eyes moved back to the letters.

“Why be anything other than good?”

An interesting question that. Smiling, he mounted his horse and headed for home.


(147)

Why be anything other than good? Why do anything other than love? ~Johnathan Dahl

Friday Fictioneers 1-17-2018

PHOTO PROMPT © Victor and Sarah Potter


 

“I’ve never seen a white spider before, Danny said, leaning forward to peer at the web stretched frame to frame in the window.

“Maybe it’s an albino.”

“Are there albino spiders?”

Susan shrugged. “Why not?”

Danny leaned closer, almost touching the web, but something stopped him. Probably the spider wouldn’t like him fiddling with his home.

“So what should we do?”

“Leave’em.”

“Your Mom will freak.”

Danny laughed. “Yeah.”

The two turned away, heading back towards their growing Lego kingdom. Neither noticed the spider leap from its web to the back of Danny’s collar.

He never felt the bite.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 1-11-2018

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Fandango. .
 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).

 

“Yggdrasil damned and heilagr hell,” Atticus growled, tugging angrily on his buried limbs. “”What the fricking…..” Falling silent as he continued to struggle.

Not that this was a bad neighborhood, but frankly, he preferred solitude. Preferred not to be the stump of all the local jokes.

‘Poor crippled, Atticus.’

‘Back hurting, A?’

‘I said “Brown – Left Hand!”‘

Really? It was like being in kindergarten again.

Damned if he was going to listen to that shit anymore, even if he had to hobble away on stumps.

Ignoring the snickering, he continued to struggle and fight, finally breaking his limbs free, spider-walking away on shaking roots, smiling for the first time in a millennium.

(118)


Notes:

Yggdrasil – Norse Tree of Life

heilagr – ‘holy’ in Old Norse

Friday Fictioneers 1-8-2018

PHOTO PROMPT ©Roger Bultot


Rows of elephant legs hung suspended around the plaza, shimmering in the noon-light like ghosts. In so many ways they were ghosts, vague remembrances of the creatures they had once been, ivoried by age.

Jordon stood talking to the artist. “Why would anybody want….” He motioned vaguely around, not wanting to speak the words.

“Elephants were once sacred animals. Many feel the totems bring great luck.”

“Luck? Certainly not for the elephants.”

Sighing, Jordon walked away. In only he had lived when elephants roamed the earth. That, now, would have been lucky.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 1-4-2018

This week’s photo prompt is provided by J.S. Brand.
 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).

 


Kerry leaned on the railing of the yacht, watching the crane hunting in the shallows. Waiting in the shallows, actually, motionless until a tasty bit came by. Then snap!

Sort of like life. Waiting patiently in the background until one drifted a bit too close. Snap!

Jay appeared, leaning beside him, also contemplating the scene.

“Nice.”

“Yeah.”

The bassist turned towards him. “If you weren’t doing this,” he motioned around with one arm, “what would you be doing?”

A soft smile. “Playing jazz.”

Curious, Kerry asked, “Why aren’t you?” He’d come to the band late, after the retirement of their first bassist.

Jay thought for a moment about the crazy early days, playing in basements and tiny bars, humping their own equipment in a borrowed van, intimidated by the driving frontman of the band, days and months and years playing beach music or whatever the hell got them on stage.

He shrugged. “I like it here.”

Kerry nodded, understanding.

Snap!

 

(159)