Posted in flash fiction, friday fictioneers

The Act of Pretending

The act of being everything I’m not has always been my go to defense mechanism. 

Moving to a new school? I can give you best sharp witted class clown alive.

New job? I’ve always been dependable and I’m highly educated. They’ll never check the facts if you’re convincing enough.

New relationship? I mean who needs them really, but I’m the most debonair man you’ve ever met.

I go to every theatre audition but I’m never the guy they’re looking for. 

Maybe it’s the stench, alcohol and unwashed skin can damper the ability to pull the audience in.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Word Count: 97
For
Friday Fictioneers, click the link to read more.

Posted in Word Prompt

Vulgar

Razor sharp chords mixed with gritty voices float from inside dark clubs and crowded bars.

A homeless man swings his Gandalf like beard as he jives down the middle of the street. His ripped shirt blows open in the breeze; giving him an underdog superhero cape made of rips and stains. One good shoe crunches into the pavement while his bare foot escapes to swing free. With palms raised to his heaven, he smiles into the oncoming storm.

It reminds me of my mother’s face; not because his inner peace oozes into the atmosphere. I can see her wrinkling nose and hear her sucking in her breath between puckered lips. I can feel her eyes cutting into my skin as she judges me from beyond.

“Such vulgarity. Here among these people, these bars … Who are you? I don’t know anymore.”

She’s always been right. Though I model her skirts and simple knit tops I’ve never been the girl she craved I would be. I drop my bag and grab the mans knotted hands. Vulgar or not, we can dance til the end.

Word of the day: Vulgar
Music: A mix of instrumental (The Echelon Effect, Lights and Motion, Chad Lawson)

Posted in stream of consciousness

Less

The human memory is notoriously faulty.

Janine no longer remembered if she saw the light or if it was just the surgeons blinding head lamp as he crawled into her mother’s cavernous heart in attempt to save her.

Janine no longer remembered if she merely thought the words or if they actually slipped between her gritted teeth.

“Don’t bother, there’s nothing there to save.”

With all his gracious intent, the doctor took her hands.

“I did all I could but it just couldn’t be done.”

Janine couldn’t slam the gate fast enough, “You could’ve done less.”

No prompt to speak of.
Music: Moon Duo

Posted in flash fiction

Evidence

“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

Posted in flash fiction, friday fictioneers

Voyeurs

We must all be voyeurs at heart but, surveying the waiting area, I see no one else people watching like me.

A middle aged woman scurries past carrying the group coffee haul.

A family of five desperately attempts to redirect the youngest before the situation descends to tears.

Then his eyes.

They meet mine across the noisy space. Maybe there’s a smirk dancing over his lips; caught in the act as we are.

Like tunnel vision, I see nothing else.

Someone pauses before me, an imprint on the outskirts of my mind.

I peer around the figure but he’s gone.

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Word Count: 100
For
Friday Fictioneers (on a Thursday!). Click the link for the rules and more flash fiction pieces.

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