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 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 flash fiction, Word Prompt

Becoming 100

The chair creaks under me, weighted by century old bones.

“Congrats! You just amaze me; to think of the things you’ve seen and done!”

I shift through the archives in attempt to place the young girl. She has the family blue eyes and my sweet Harry’s smile. A fanged man dominates her dark shirt.

“Old stories say witches and vampires drink blood to stay young.” Her face contorts uncomfortably as she slinks away, no doubt on her way to tell.

I can’t hide my sneer.

Maybe tonight I’ll run away. Surely it’s not too late to become a vampire.

Word Count: 99
Word/Idea: Growing Older
For the flash fiction challenge at Carrot Ranch and inspired by my really saucy grandmother who was born in 1928 and reminds me everytime I see her that shes “too young to be this old”. 
And Happy Mother’s Day to the areas celebrating it today

 

Posted in flash fiction, friday fictioneers

Day 339

Sometimes I forget to breathe.
It’s not that I don’t want to.
The air is just so heavy now.
Like at the end of it all we only had sins left
And they’re trying to smother the few of us that remain into non-existence.  
Of course I survived, heaven nor hell wanted me.
I wouldn’t have pushed the button if I’d have known …
I’m forgetting again.
Today I saw it.
Squat pale sandstone in the distance and figures bobbing in and out.
The lab notes said they have a way to go back,
If they’ll let me in.

on-route-66-jean-l-hays

Word Count: 100
For Friday Fictioneer’s, to read more click the link.