The observatory was dark, giving way to a stunning array of constellations above. These quiet moments with Danny were Maeve’s favorite. Too often she found herself pushed to the side for women giggling like school girls.
She always tried to be nice but sometimes, like during their long awaited reunion dates, she found it hard to be accommodating.
“I love you.” Danny pulled her closer. “Hey, I wanna ask you something.” “Of course.” Butterflies settled in her stomach. Was this it? “I wanted to ask …”
A shrill scream cut through the dark.. “Oh my gaawwddd! It is you!”
Word Count: 99 (per the rules) Phrase/Word/Idea: A Rock Star A little late entry for the Carrot Ranch flash fiction challenge.
My father was a gravedigger; taught me everything he knew.
Like that graves aren’t really six feet deep or that coffins and shrouded bodies require different things.
He taught me about the afterlife, murder and suicide. He taught me to wield a shovel whether I dig it in the ground or fight for my life. He taught me that those who feared death would be the first to die.
Mother never appreciated his gifts. “Unladylike.”
She never imagined I would own a yacht. I took her out to sea.
My father taught me a lot, like ignoring her screams.
“Why is it so big?” “It’s a tribute to our robot overlords.” Dan adjusted the stainless steel colander on his head. A walkie talkie clipped to his buckle emitted a stream of white noise. “Well it is impressive in size.” Leslie marked the boxes along her checklist. “That’s what she said.” “Oh, oh please don’t.” “No, that is what she said.” Dan pointed to clouds dotting the horizon. For a split second Leslie could see a glint of something more than vapor in the sky. The white noise shrieked, spewed unintelligible words then fell silent. “They’re happy with my tribute.”
Word Count: 100 For Friday Fictioneers, to read more about the prompt and other stories click the link
Jenny wandered into the kitchen, shielding her eyes against the lights. Pasta clung to the walls. Chunks of half melted cheese hung from the ceiling. Tomato soup pooled on the floor. The salad sat patiently in the bowl. And where were her friends? So much for a quiet dinner party
“Oh shit.” Mark disappeared below the railing. “What?” Emmy strained to see beyond the trees. “No, it’s Mrs. Smith!” Mark leaned between the columns. “She has her tongue down the pool boys throat again.” Emmy handed the camera up to him. “We’re here to get evidence after all.”
48 words – 276 characters For Twittering Tales Click the link for rules and to read more