Posted in flash fiction, friday fictioneers

Possession

I imagine the breeze rustling the trinkets dangling above me. I even hear them in some distant space, clanking against each other ruefully. I can see them battling for space, a place to occupy my mind. 

I remember watching TV. Knights clashed their swords together for the attention of some distant maiden. Sunlight carves stark lines across my single mattress like the scales of a dragon’s belly.

I’m careful with this one possession. I lay still but not for long out of fear my waif body will destroy it.

I sink into the lines, willing the beast to devour me.

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Word Count: 100
For
Friday Fictioneers

Posted in flash fiction, friday fictioneers

Things My Father Taught Me

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.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Word Count: 99
For Friday Fictioneers – I know the picture isn’t a yacht.

Posted in flash fiction, friday fictioneers

See No Evil

This is the worst part.

Alfred looked unsuspecting, like he wouldn’t know a fly if it flew right into his ear, and he preferred to keep it that way.

The waiting.

Cops buzzed around the square. The sunrise illuminated their badges and reflected off their holstered guns.

“What about that guy?” A particularly robust cop jerked his thumb towards Alfred.

Shit.

“Him? Nah, he didn’t see anything.” Alfred’s boss leaned closer to the officer. “He’s slow.”

Alfred was grateful for the excuse. Tomorrow morning there would be enough cash hidden at the drop off point to cover him for months.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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

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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 flash fiction

Fire Starter

I walked my dog here from the time the rain smelled of flowers through heated summer pains. We grew old here, grey hairs cropping up like pine needles. Soon we were covered with avalanches of them, prickly and sticky like aches and pains. Needles gave way to winters and snows heavy with human sorrow.

I had my first kiss here when birds were still quiet against the rising sun. He rested his hand on my cheek. He told me it would be alright. We planned a wedding through the morning dew and afternoon rays. But when the evening breeze came it left no remains. In the dark they strangled what we thought we had. By midnight it was just me and the needles, alone again.

I find myself in this place, over and over, shuffling dying fire starter from one memory to another. There’s smoke in the distance; the smell of burning dreams. I wonder what’s the cost to catch it all aflame and dissolve into the night, a waft of regret on the scent of what remains.

Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

Word Count: 178
For
Sunday Photo Fiction – This might as well have been partially written by Dirty Three (seriously, I’ve been on a binge)

Posted in flash fiction

Always the Kettle

It’s the tea kettle, always the tea kettle.

Jada had no idea why it was the kettle. Surely it wasn’t always. How many childhood stories were there about tea kettles being possessed?

Zero.

She couldn’t resist the designs. It begged to be taken home.

Such a tea slut.

The walls rumbled. In front of her individual scales twitched and flapped. A beast of terrifying size draped over her furniture.

Don’t move.

Jada knew the beast couldn’t be real. Yet here it was, half chasing something in its sleep; its forked tongue hanging from between scaly lips. Its serrated claws curled as it feigned trotting through a field playfully tossing its massive head.

And probably a corpse.

A feeling of panic rested low in her belly. Jada’s legs ached to run but she was frozen. 

Don’t breathe.

Its head snapped up. Jada could see her reflection in the glossy red iris. The beast inhaled as its nose passed across her.

Not a snack, the whole meal. Is this really gonna be my last thought before I die?

Its putrid breath filled Jada’s nose. Instead of a roar it let out a series of low clicks.

Oh god, it’s engine won’t turn over.

Photo Credit: C.E. Ayr

Word Count: 200

For Sunday Photo Fiction – It’s my first time joining in with this (we can post on days other than Sunday right?) Also, dragons are like puppies. Who knew?

Posted in friday fictioneers

Biblical

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

He ran his fingers through the raging water. The boss was right, the rapids were tumultuous enough. The rabid water ripped gentle leaves below the surface, corrupting them beyond recognition.

“We’re all absorbed into chaos eventually.”

His walkie buzzed to life, “Tomas, are you ready?”

The boss said nothing would change without the influence of old words …

“Ready.” His voice was steady but only now did Tomas feel the sun beating down on his neck.

The first strings of red rushed through the rapids towards the town water supply.

They would pay for their dependence on old words today.

Word Count: 100

Many thanks to
Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers!