Flash Fiction · Friday Fictioneers

The Last Day – #FridayFictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The cold and wet was seeping through her slippers, but she didn’t care. The chair was hard and uncomfortable, but she could endure it. She knew. She knew this would be her last chance to see the sun rise over her particular piece of horizon. Her last chance to see the dawn of a brand new day and wonder what it may bring.

She knew what this day would bring, though. She also knew that her family would be cross with her when they found her, frozen on her chair instead of inside in her warm bed.

Word count: 97


The idea for Friday Fictioneers is simple: see the picture, use it as inspiration for a 100-word piece of flash fiction, post it on your blog, share the link over at Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ website, check out and comment on everyone else’s stories. Easy peasy!

Flash Fiction · Friday Fictioneers

Disappearance #FridayFictioneers, but on a Sunday

So, I’m a bit late with my story for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, but better late than never, eh? I missed last week’s instalment and was determined not to miss two in a row.

The idea for Friday Fictioneers is simple: see the picture, use it as inspiration for a 100-word piece of flash fiction, post it on your blog, share the link over at Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ website, check out and comment on everyone else’s stories. Easy peasy!

Disappearance

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

‘Over here! I’ve found something!’

‘Where are you? Frankie?’

A green-bereted head popped up from behind the ruined wall. I was picking my way towards her, concentrating on where I put my feet. I looked up but she had disappeared again.

I can’t believe I let her drag me here, I thought. The beach looked far more appealing.

‘Frankie, you’ll have to wait, I can’t keep up!’

I stopped to pick a stone out of my sandal and heard a scuffle and shouts from behind the archway up ahead.

Rushing through, all I found was one green beret.

Word count: 98

Flash Fiction · Friday Fictioneers

Something in the Woods #FridayFictioneers

Happy Friday everyone! The sun is actually shining this morning and it’s bringing a lovely warmth through the window as I work. And, seeing as it’s Friday, I’ve been working on my latest piece for Friday Fictioneers. Once again, a big thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting.

Each week there’s a picture to use as a prompt for a 100-word piece of flash fiction. Thank you to Lisa Fox for this week’s prompt.

To have a look at the other contributions you can go to the list here. I hope you enjoy this week’s stories!

Something in the Woods

‘Do you think something’s in there?’ asked Cath.

‘Sh! You don’t want it to hear you!’

‘You’re so dramatic, Logan.’

‘I’m careful. There’s a difference.’

‘Whatever. I’m bored now. See you tomorrow.’

‘But, don’t you wanna …’

‘Bye, Logan!’ She crunched off through the woods.

Sitting alone, he felt a chill now his friend had gone. He was determined to see what was in there though, even if he had to wait all night.

Logaaaannnnnn …’

He froze. That didn’t sound like Cath.

Logaaaannnnnn …’

The voice was coming from in front. From the cabin. He jumped up and ran.

Word count: 100

Flash Fiction · Friday Fictioneers

That Magic Moment #FridayFictioneers

It’s Friday! Yippee! Which means it’s time for Friday Fictioneers, a lovely blog hop organised and run by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Each week there’s a picture to use as a prompt for a 100-word piece of flash fiction. Thank you for this week’s prompt Rochelle!

To have a look at the other contributions using this prompt you can go to the list here. I hope you enjoy this week’s stories!

That Magic Moment

PHOTO PROMPT © Anne Higa

‘Do you hear that?’

‘Hear what, my sweet?’ Antony replied as he positioned himself in front of Maria, the dampness of the grass seeping through his jeans as he settled himself on one knee.

‘There’s a creaking sound.’ She was looking towards the tower, then at its base. Anywhere but at Antony.

‘Maria, I want to ask …’

‘Antony! It’s the tower! We have to move!’ She grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet, dragging him along with everyone else that was fleeing.

Behind them, the tower was shifting, and Antony was desperately checking his pockets as they ran.

Word count: 100

Flash Fiction · Friday Fictioneers

Lost and Found, #FridayFictioneers

Something I used to enjoy in my previous incarnation as a blogger was the weekly flash fiction hops. I would post regularly and it was good for practicing my skills, particularly in the short short forms.

I’ve recently come across such a hop and it’s called Friday Fictioneers. That’s actually a little fib, I found it quite a long time ago but it’s taken me ages to get round to posting anything and taking part. Nerves and all that, you know?

Anyway, it’s run by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and each week she posts a picture to be used as a prompt for a 100-word piece of flash fiction. Thank you for being a wonderful host Rochelle!

Please do head to her blog to read through the other stories posted in the link, and here is my contribution. (Please be kind, I haven’t done this for a while …)

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Lost and Found

‘They must be here somewhere,’ I whispered, trying to avoid bumping into anyone, scouring the floor between legs and feet.

‘Sorry, Mum, I didn’t mean to drop them.’

‘Don’t worry.’ My voice was calm, but inside I was trying not to panic. The noise of the market was overwhelming my senses, the veg seller shouting about apples and pears. It was an impossible task to look for anything in the melee, too many feet kicking and scuffling.

I stopped, took a deep breath, tried to focus. The veg seller was no longer calling about fruit.

‘Keys! Anyone lost some keys?!’

Word count: 100

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The Search – Mondays Finish the Story

Mondays Finish the Story

For Mondays Finish the Story we get a picture prompt, accompanied by the first line of the story. We are then invited to finish the story within a 100-150 word limit.

Lots of ideas came to mind for this weeks installment, but I had to dismiss most of them for being too involved for the word limit. Instead I went for simplicity, and trying to capture the essence of one incident.

 

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

 

The Search

The crew of the Angel Flame received orders to head out. Time was ticking, but they hit the water in record time. The sea was as calm as ever they’d seen it, nothing unusual to report. It didn’t bode well for a successful recovery. 

Behind them a number of civilian boats were heading out, doing what they could to cover the search area. The situation hadn’t yet escalated to panic, but the crew sensed it wouldn’t be long. The family were sitting on the shore, waiting for the tiniest scrap of good news, and the Flame wanted to deliver it.

Everyone was on alert, scouring the horizon for the slightest movement, and finally they found it. Shouts erupted, and they changed direction just as the object disappeared beneath the water. The Flame trugged on, and it seemed to take an eternity.

Word count: 140

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One more drop – Friday Fictioneers

FIC

Friday Fictioneers is another little challenge hop making its name out in the blogosphere, and is based at Rochelle Wisoff-Fields blog Addicted to Purple. Every Friday writers are invited to share a story, up to 100 words, based on the photo given as a prompt.

This prompt was actually given out for last weeks post and I missed the linkup deadline, but I really wanted to share with you what I came up with. No matter how I approached it, the tale couldn’t help but come out as poetry, so there was nothing I could do but just go with it. As a poet I’m definitely a novice, and I’m not sure if it falls into the criteria of this challenge, but I’d love to know what you think.

One more drop

Waiting for the next drop, just one more drop, please.

It’s been a while since your last, and it’s brought me to my knees.

The sun is beating down now, and I shade where I can,

but there’s much less litter these days, so I’ve no choice but to tan.

Just one more drop would be enough, to send me on my way,

to be with my brothers. What do you say?

This harmless little fellow, just needing to get home.

I can see that drop emerging now, thank you for giving hope.

Words: 93

 
 
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Moving forward – Mondays Finish the Story

Mondays Finish the Story

Mondays Finish the Story gives us a photo prompt and the first line of the tale, inviting us to finish the story in 100-150 words. Thanks to Babso2you for bringing us this weekly challenge, I hope you like what I’ve done with it this week.

Moving forward

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

Arriving at the beach, she reflected on her life. Her thoughts always gravitated towards him, towards the hurt he’d inflicted on her, on her family. When would she be free of the cloud over her head, reminding her of all those bad decisions.

Taking deep breaths, closing her eyes, the wind and the spray washed over her. Taking one step, then another, the water felt cool against her skin. She went further and further, eyes still closed, concentrating on nothing but the elements around her. She felt at peace with herself, ready to face what lay in front of her.

‘Hey! Hey! Stop!’

The voice didn’t register with her, but the strong arms pulling her from the water were harder to ignore. Opening her eyes, they were met by the dark eyes of her rescuer. So, this is what lay in front of her then. Interesting.

Words: 146

Carrie Sorenson · Flash Fiction · Leanne Sype · Nicole Pyles · Tena Carr · Writer Wednesday Blog Hop

Appear/Disappear – A WWBH post

This post is part of the Writer Wednesday Blog Hop, a weekly meme designed to inspire creativity and encourage sharing of stories.

For more information and to see my other stories, check out my Writer Wednesday Blog Hop tab.

The challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction in up to 500 words, using two pictures as inspiration.

This weeks contribution:

Appear/Disappear

Nobody knew where the object had come from or how it had appeared without drawing attention. One night the sun had set on the open space of the promenade, and the next morning the silver, ring shaped spectacle was there.

Big silver bean in Millenium Park.

We didn’t live in a quiet city either, there was plenty going on late into the night and early hours, but still its arrival was a mystery. It had just brought itself into existence without flash or fanfare.
 
        Simon had been mesmerised from the moment he set eyes on it. We went to see it together, and as we got closer it loomed overhead, blocking out the sun. We gazed up at our reflections, our bodies elongating as they curved around it. We dared to walk beneath, right into the centre where the sun shone through once again. As we did I noticed it began to hum gently, responding to something close by. Nobody else seemed to notice, so I kept this observation to myself.
 
        It certainly drew the crowds and Simon took full advantage, moving his busking spot right next it. He set his guitar case on the floor, donned his signature hat and glasses and began playing. Business was slow to begin with, the visitors barely paid him any attention as they wandered around and admired the object.
 
        But as he continued playing, something strange began to happen. It was very subtle to start with, and in the dazzling sunlight was easily missed, but the surface of the object started to change from its silvery, reflective surface, and instead colours danced across its surface.
 
        When he Dad's Guitar 005played a more up-tempo song the colours were bright and radiant, yellows, reds, oranges, all chasing each other quickly around. For slower, more sombre pieces the colours turned to blue and green, seeming to merge into one another gradually without any urgency at all.
 
        It didn’t take long for the crowds to pick up on the connection, and assumed Simon was doing something to it somehow. His case filled rapidly with coins, reflecting the appreciation of the entertainment.
 
        Simon was transfixed and the object seemed just as interested in him. He stayed all day, experimenting with different styles to see what it would do, and insisted on playing long after the sun went down. The colours seemed even more dramatic in the darkness, and it only intensified his efforts. I didn’t have the stamina though, and said my goodbyes before heading home. I’m not sure he even noticed me go.
 
        The next morning when I arrived with coffee and bagels, Simon was nowhere to be seen. And neither was the object. It had disappeared as smoothly and covertly as it had arrived, leaving no trace that it had even been there. The only evidence of Simon was his guitar case, overflowing with coins now, his hat and his sunglasses. It was like he’d never been there either. Looking towards the sky, I wondered where they had gone, and if I’d ever see either of them again.
 
Word count: 504

Carrie Sorenson · Flash Fiction · Leanne Sype · Nicole Pyles · Tena Carr · Writer Wednesday Blog Hop

Looking for Home – A WWBH post

This post is part of the Writer Wednesday Blog Hop, a weekly meme designed to inspire creativity and encourage sharing of stories.

For more information and to see my other stories, check out my Writer Wednesday Blog Hop tab.

The challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction in up to 500 words, and this time using one picture and five words.

The picture:

20140324-101651.jpg

 

The words:                            body, person, silky, crack, pleasure

The story:

Looking for Home

Another life, a whole other world. The memories were fresh in my mind, if not in anyone else’s. But then how could they be, I’m the only one who traveled from that place to this. Every other person was already here, this is all they’ve ever known.

It’s not hugely different I suppose. The landscape is the same, all the cities and buildings within them are the same. Yet, everybody‘s strange here. People are so absorbed in their own internal world they hardly notice anyone else around them. On my first day here I had three people try to walk through me as though I didn’t exist.

At first I thought it was just me, maybe I wasn’t there, maybe the journey had done something to me, made me invisible. This theory was dismissed though after other people shouted at me for being in their way. After that I tried to make myself as small as possible, dodging my way through the cracks in the crowd, not drawing attention to myself.

My arrival hadn’t registered with any of these people, which surprised me. There was plenty of noise and a whirlpool large enough for me to fit through. Surely these things weren’t common enough to be ignored, considered insignificant. Perhaps I was wrong. The initial pleasure I’d felt at successfully navigating the time spiral had dispersed quickly once I got a sense of the place.

Everything was so noisy here, I wondered how anyone managed to make any sense of it all. I wandered the streets for as long as I could stand it, gathering data to take home, but it all became too much and I had to seek the solace of the park. It seemed to be on the outskirts of this city, and I managed to find the outer edge, as far from the chaos as I could manage. Amongst the trees I could still hear the noise of their strange vehicles droning in the background, but I could lose myself a little in the silky black of the night sky.

I had to try and find a way to get back home again. This place wasn’t somewhere that our Elders had in mind as a refuge. I’d rather stay in my home when the end came than have to live a whole day here. But I needed a power source.

My thoughts were interrupted by loud noises charging through the trees. Shouts were behind the noise and soon lights appeared to accompany the roar. Three of the natives had appeared on strange two-wheeled vehicles I’d never seen before. They sounded powerful and an idea began to form in my mind. Maybe these strange things would have enough power to create the return whirlpool I needed, maybe I wouldn’t be stuck here until the Elders opened the window for me. I studied the newcomers as they set up some kind of camp, waiting for an opportunity to seize one of their machines.

Word count: 496