This week’s prompt provided by Joy Pixley!
“What are you doing up there?” Granny’s voice rang up toward us. We knew better than to go into the attic, but it was the only hiding spot where we believed it couldn’t find us.
I listened to the shuffling of her pink slippers on the wooden steps. Too soon her hand was on Jamie’s shoulder. “I told you kids never to come up here.”
“Yes, granny,” we said in unison. She wouldn’t punish us, we knew. But lines of disappointment were evident on her face, setting the wrinkles of her face deeper.
We fell in line behind granny as we all shuffled down to the kitchen for tea. She didn’t ask what we were hiding from. She just kept cleaning the counters, and every now and then would look up at the ceiling and then at us.
We slept in her bedroom with her that night. She placed a wooden beam across the door in slots grandpa had put in years before. She kept watch from her rocking chair, keeping her shotgun on her lap.
It wasn’t enough.
Jamie was gone in the morning.
I’m so sorry that this is late. But I still made it!
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
This week’s prompt provided by Jade M. Wong.
The magenta diamond of you’ll-be-sorry
Why was there a magenta diamond stuck in the black sand here?
I told Denise not to touch it, now she’s against the wall of the cavern crying that she’s turning into a cat. I’ll deal with that later.
Great, now she fell on me while I was taking photos and I landed chest first on the thing. What even is it?
Not turning into a cat. Great. But my hands are now twice their normal size.
Okay, there’s a gnome sized alien sitting on the diamond thing now, watching us.
Denise has stopped crying, and hasn’t started meowing. I think I can taste that sandwich I had at a small bistro that one time I visited my father. I still don’t like green pepper.
The alien has stopped laughing at us, and has offered to stop the diamond’s affects if one of us will go back with him to his home planet. Anything is better than having eyes all over your arms.
I don’t know if it’s better to be an alien’s side-show attraction/pet. At least I get chocolate pudding and I can see normally again.
(187 words. Sorry!)
It’s supposed to be weird-funny. The boyfriend said it almost reminded him of Terry Pratchett. That’s good right?
Mysterious fox still on holiday.
100 Word Challenge
The permanent cycle
Flower kept to herself. People were draining, and often she found that her interests never sparked much from friends or family.
It was easier that way.
She did what she liked. She worked from home, tucked away in safety and comfort.
It was good.
It was lonely.
Flower would push down the feeling to reach out to another being. Sometimes she was successful. Otherwise she would force on some mascara and a bra, and go down to town only to return exhausted.
Like the eternal crashing of waves on the rocks below her home.
This was her life.
It was her cycle.
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Prompt provided by Iain Kelly!
How is it possible to be in a helicopter, high above the city one moment, and on an island writing SOS in the sand the next?
I thought I was alone. It turned out that there was another woman on the opposite end who had taken the liberty of building herself a tree-house. I moved in. After several weeks I think I had given up on the idea of ever being rescued. We had the house, there was a fresh bottle of water in the chest every morning and we had all the fish and fruit we could ever want to eat.
I think I realized that I might have been dreaming it all when a fox came and sat next to me. Maybe I was still in the helicopter. Maybe I had crashed and was lying in a hospital bed totally unaware of what was going on.
The fox said I was worrying too much.
We shared a cocktail as we watched new people walk out of the water to live with us on the island.
177 words (oops)
100 WORD CHALLENGE: LETTER
Using “letter” for inspiration, write 100 Words – 100 exactly – no more, no less. You can either use the word – or any form of the word – as one of your 100, or it can be implied.
The caves were cleared out but gave no more comfort than before. Echoes of water drops had started to feel like nails hitting the side of Mila’s head.
She started her letter: There weren’t as many creatures as predicted.
The roof groaned, sending slivers of dust and small rocks down onto her. She cleaned off the paper with a shaky hand, smudging her sentences.
Not enough usable space to start a garden for the colony.
The water stopped.
Mila heard the unmistakable scream of Danica.
She held her breath.
From out of the darkness, spiders tickled out like a river.
I don’t believe this is my best, but I’ve been looking forward to this challenge all week. After staying away from sugar all week because of a cold, I had some mango juice and a cookie. I think the headache is trying to tell me that it was not appreciated.
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Week of 08-02 through 08-08-2016
Photo provided by Phylor
The story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words)
The endless struggle
“You are hopelessly too drunk to drive to get more wine,” Molly said. “You’ll either get yourself killed or kill someone else.”
“Not if I take the horse,” Don answered. He raised both eyebrows, wallet in hand. Before she could get a word in, Don zig-zagged to the door.
‘Damn his long legs,’ she thought. Eventually she made her way down the hill to the barn. Her little legs were on fire. Maybe she shouldn’t have missed that spin class after all.
“Don,” she called out. Nothing. They weren’t in there. Molly made her way outside and around to the left. There was the horse. But where was Don?
She called out again. Still nothing.
Molly found Don on the grass next to the horse, between the cars and with his eyes firmly fixed on the starry sky.
“What happened? Did Daisy throw you off?”
He blinked, confused. “I thought I was still on the horse.” She grabbed at his shirt to help him up. “I’ll never drink and ride again.”
‘Whatever, Don. Whatever.’
100 Word Challenge: Emotion
Using “emotion” for inspiration, write 100 Words – 100 exactly – no more, no less. You can either use the word – or any form of the word – as one of your 100, or it can be implied.
Guard your heart
There’s no emotion we ought to think harder about than anger – Martha C Nussbaum
Guarding your heart against anger is often more difficult than imagined. A friend’s word that stung, the nip of an unkind gesture, the throb of someone disappearing from your life. They all leave a gash. You ignore it, until anger has slowly crept in to blacken the hurt.
You distance yourself from others, vinegar your words, your heart clouds until you are a shell.
Forgiveness is never a feeling, but a choice.
One you must make until the anger leaves you and with it lifts the hurt it so longed to fester in.
Everything you do flows from the heart.
Proverbs 4:23 – Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.
My mother and I have often talked about forgiveness. I do believe fervently that it is a choice; it’s not something that you suddenly feel. Always a difficult one, but one you must ultimately make if you want to be free. I hope I wasn’t too preachy.