Posted in flash fiction

Game of Thrones

“So, what do you think?”

Martin surveyed the grotesque display in front of him. He didn’t want to risk angering his captor, “It’s an interesting chair.”

“Chair? Marty, my boy, look again. This is a throne.”

The man in full tuxedo and a plastic raincoat strutted around with a slight giggle on the tip of his tongue. “Do you know how many hands this took?”

“I …” Martin’s voice trembled.

His captor caressed Martin’s long fingers. “I’ve always admired yours. They’re the perfect centerpiece. The essential finishing touch, if you will.” His hacksaw rested on Martin’s wrist. “Shall we begin?”

Word Count: 99
For the 99 word challenge at Carrot Ranch.
Fact: This was inspired by Amelia Bedelia

Posted in flash fiction, friday fictioneers

Old Things

Lydia hated the old things her father insisted on keeping.

“Who needs this stuff? Ancient teapots and spoons?”

Her father admonished the girls irreverence for the past.

“These belong to your ancestors; gifts from the Gods.

I don’t want them. Ever.” She shoved the old silver items away.

“The last person who disrespected the Gods met a terrible fate. These items are meant for you.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and glowered. She was much more in tune with the modern age.

She landed with a thud as her feet slipped from under her. “What was that?!

I told you.”

PHOTO PROMPT © Valerie J. Barrett

Word Count: 99
A try at Friday Fictioneers this week. Click the link to read more.

Posted in stream of consciousness

The Truth Have I Murdered

Music: All Them Witches – Dying Surfer Meets His Maker
Taken loosely from the idea of a lyrical essay

The boy doesn’t love you.

And why should he?

Don’t “please mister” me …

You’re the culprit here. Look at those hands, doused in red.

Disgust! That’s what I feel when I look at you.

The truth deserved better.

Better than being dragged by your breathless frame,

Heaving from the act,

Down the drain.

Witless.

I’ll ask you again.

When no was the answer …

Why didn’t you just give in?

Posted in stream of consciousness, Word Prompt

In The Garden

Verdant – RDP word of the day
Music – Dirty Three – Self titled

Luscious.
Fertile.
Sasha’s garden was everything Mari could never inspire in her own. Her belly too, round with verdant life in a way Mari would never know.

Obsession.
Jealousy.
Rage in Mari’s veins blossomed as she feigned excitement for Sasha’s burgeoning life. Sasha’s roses brought home awards. Her daffodils sailed into a spotlight all their own. The baby kicked while she laughed on.

Inspired.
Alone.
Mari took to a rusted axe in order to get the job done.

I forgot to time myself but I intended to aim for 5 minutes to start. This probably took about that long.

Posted in Word Prompt

Waiting

“I’ve read every last one.”
“That one?” Shari nodded to the oldest book in the pile.
“My favorite, it has every spell possible, even one to bring back the dead.”
“Wow.” Shari knew the guy was a fruit loop. “I should get going.”
“So soon? But I’ve been waiting for you for eons.”

Word Count: 53 words – 277 characters
For Kat’s
Twittering Tales

Posted in stream of consciousness

Pity Party (Repost)

She awoke one fine cupcake morning,
Blue skies and nary a cloud in sight.
Village windows remained shuttered,
Terrific beasts tethered to the night.
It was a fine day indeed.
She had the invitations,
Colloquial and drawn in invisible ink.
Balloons of her favorite shades,
Faded blues and washed out grays,
Floated about the room;
Specters all their own.
Nine thirty and a quarter past second five.
She clasped her hands,
Breathing anticipation,
When only a strangers shadow
Fell upon the door.
“Am I late?”
An echo from empty marble halls.
“I do love parties after all.”
She tugged at cotton candy curls
And a dress of a more bland sort.
“Of course, of course.
Just lay your grievances down here.
After all, isn’t that what pity parties are for?”

Between how overwhelmed I’ve been pretty much all year at this point and a looming sense of becoming stuck in the status quo I’ve honestly felt like shit lately. I feel stuck, unimportant, unmotivated, uninspired and so very much like a total failure. I get to points where I wonder if every decision I’ve ever made has been the wrong one. Since I found myself having a pity party … Here we are

Posted in Word Prompt

Mint Julep

“I love strawberries.”

Helen watched her son pick the pieces apart and stuff them into his waiting mouth.

“What’s your favorite fruit momma?”

Helen never cared much for fruit. A flash of regret seared through her. She ruffled the small boys blonde hair, so different from her own.

He was the reason she was alive so how did he manage to remind her of every failure she possessed?

“I like mint.”

“Is mint a fruit?”

“It is when I add it to my special drink.” No amount of sugar could keep the bourbon from burning all the way down.

Word Count: 99
For the Carrot Ranch flash fiction challenge. Click the link for info and more stories to read.

Posted in flash fiction, friday fictioneers

Salt

Saoirse could smell the ocean salt clinging to his skin. She could still see the sunlight reflecting in his hazel eyes. This was where Julian belonged.

It hadn’t been good enough.

He had the ocean in his soul but around here the dark corners echoed of empty promises far louder.

She begged him. He answered their call anyway.

If I could go back, Saoirse wondered, when was the moment you decided?

His mother wiped her tears away.

“This is where he was happiest.”

Saoirse inhaled the ocean air and tilted the urn. They watched as the waves carried Julian away.

PHOTO PROMPT © Susan Eames

Word count: 100
For
Friday Fictioneers (on a Wednesday!) Click the link for rules and more stories.

Posted in flash fiction

Hey Siri

Dan surveyed the film scattered before him.
“There has to be something I’m missing.”
Bodies, splayed open and surrounded by a hodgepodge of mystical ingredients, stared back at him.
He really thought a handful of cinnamon would be the key.
“Hey Siri, how do you reanimate a corpse?”

278 characters  – 48 words
For Twittering Tales
And yes, I asked Siri how to reanimate a corpse (to my disappointment she did not deliver anything funny).

Posted in Word Prompt

Capsizing Breath (Repost)

Your absence sucks the warmth from these sheets,

Curling between my thigh’s, roping around my fingers

Still trembling and gasping

From gentle tugs and rasping bites

Along edges of bone and light

I am frozen on capsizing breath

Of the last words we said

While these sheets of your sighs,

Of our eyes

Forever taking one another in,

Hold me hostage, wrapping around my legs, binding my wrists,

Against the warmth you float away with.

The word of the day when I posted originally was vague.