An experiment gone awry

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

This week’s photo prompt is provided by artycaptures.wordpress.com.


An experiment gone awry

Molly always had trouble sleeping. She got into the habit of browsing online when she couldn’t rest, and more recently scrolling through Buzzfeed to do pointless quizzes until she was tired enough to try and sleep again.

One night she stumbled upon an interesting article. Inspired, she jotted down the ingredients and their measurements for a mug cake. It was time for experimenting.

Her roommate, an unnecessarily uptight teacher with a secret love of baking, was luckily asleep on the couch. Molly closed the kitchen’s door. Hopefully Blair wouldn’t notice anything missing. She was always so observant.

She mixed it all together, excited to taste the chocolate treat the recipe promised. Three minutes later, Molly opened the microwave’s door and was horrified.

It looked nothing like the pictures! She must have gotten something wrong. With a cloth, she took out the mug with its overflowing lave-like chocolate mix. Molly got a fright as Blair’s dishevelled form stood behind her.

“My foot!”

“Blair! I’m so sorry.”

It was a funny story to tell the ER nurses.


(175 words)

I had trouble with the word limit on this one. It was such a fun prompt!

Pat Bill Tandem

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

FFfAW

Week of 08-08


Pat Bill Tandem

“Slow down!”

“It’s not my fault that you have little legs, Pat.”

“It is. You have all of the good genes.”

“You’re older than me!”

“That’s not my fault.”

“How can you blame me then?”

Muscles are burning. No one needs this. “Why are we doing this?”

“I wanted you to use your little legs for once and do something active.”

“Mom made you do it, didn’t she?”

“Yep.”

Breathless. He’s breathless too. Here comes another hill. This is it- I’m actually dying. Tomb stone will read: Here lies fat Pat. He never made it up that hill. It burns. “How much?”

“Ten dollars.”

At least we freestyle down. Bill breaks sharply, almost sending me flying into his sweaty back. “We’re done. How do you feel?”

Tired. Sweaty. Chaffed. Thirsty. I catch my breath after a while. “You know what? I don’t actually feel that terrible. It was pretty good.”

Bill smiles and we let the old bike fall onto the grass. “Never again?”

“Never again.”

We do this every Sunday. I hate it.


(174 words)

 

Old Betty

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Week of 07-25

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Louise with The Storyteller’s Abode.


Old Betty

Dad inherited a boat. Grandpa Nick had passed away and left my father his beloved boat- his Betty.

Betty had ever worked; it just sat in grandpa’s garage, and every Saturday he and Nan would take a bottle of wine and sit on their lawn chairs imagining that they were out at sea. It was his dream.

Dad took Betty out to the water, hoping it would somehow ‘convince’ the old thing to come to life. I went out with him every afternoon. He would walk up and down and talk to the boat. He thought I was there to think what I was to do with my life. I was only there to jot down everything he did to use in a story- my secret passion.

One day we stopped going, and old Betty sat in the backyard never to be enjoyed again.

But I wouldn’t let my dream become like Betty. I still go out to that spot by the water to write.


(165 words)

I’ve been AWOL from my blog for some time. I got engaged since being gone and I’ve been riding that high for a while. But back to writing now.

Out for a walk

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Footy and Foodie.


Out for a walk

John whistled to Oliver to slow down, and walked toward where the dog was waiting. It was the perfect time for a few photographs, and he would be able to get the dog out for some exercise. Some walking would do them both good.

John held up his finger imagining that he was swirling the clouds as he moved it over from blue, to pink, to orange, to yellow where the sun was setting. He put down his hand to pick up his old camera that was held together with strategically placed duct tape and rubber bands. Brenda always knew how to fix things.

Oliver waited by one of the cars. It was time to go home. It would get dark soon. John looked down at the photo he had just taken. He stopped.

Was that-? He shook his head. What was that on the screen? It couldn’t be.

Oliver barked, urging him to hurry up. It was almost dinner time.

John scratched at his head beneath his hat. “Is that a woman?” he asked himself. On the screen sure enough was a figure in the clouds. “Flying?!”

He put his camera away and grabbed Oliver by the collar to hurry home.

Brenda wasn’t going to believe this.

 


(208 words)

Detective E

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

This week’s photo prompt is provided by The Magicsticgoldenrose.


Detective E

“The elusive stranger!”

This was it. We chased the perp down the street toward the Crowdy house, the local municipal building and the only historical site in town. It’s a boring town.

Detective E. turned the corner after running across the courtyard, almost catching up to our perp. We ran up the stairs to the roof. He was cornered.

“Nowhere to go now,” E said.

The stranger pulled off his mask, revealing Mrs. Cooper- our client.

“Mrs. Cooper,” I exclaimed.

E gasped. “Of course, it was you. You wanted us to catch you, that’s why you told those lies about your priceless diamonds.”

She licked her lips. “I knew you would find me eventually, E.”

“You’re going away for a long time, dame.”

She laughed. “Poor E. You’ll go down in history as the one that let me get away.”

And as she finished she jumped from the roof. We could only watch as she soared away.


(157 words)

This is terrible, and I love it  xD

I

Furry hero

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Week of 06-06 through 06-12-2017

Prompt provided by Pamela S. Canepa.


Furry Hero 

Getting lost was easy. There were only trees, and more trees, and more trees around me. And behind me. And in front of me.

I found a large rock to stand on, hoping that it would give me a vantage point to find civilization again. I managed one leg over the edge and struggled for some time to pull the rest of myself up onto it. Should have used my gym membership a bit more. Breathless, I did a power stance with my hands on my hips. It’s good to feel confident even when you feel like crying.

I did what I always did best; I yelled and screamed.

A very hairy hand came up from behind and clamped my mouth shut. I closed my eyes, thankful. I turned to face my hero. I gasped, it held out it’s paw to me.

It had to be a male bear. His cave was dishevelled, his bed unmade, dishes waiting in the sink.

He called the police. I got ice cream on my way home.

Crap. I hope the others are okay.


(180 words)

I was feeling silly. Obviously, you’d yell if a bear put it’s paw on your face.

Frost

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

This week’s photo prompt is provided by loniangraphics.


Frost

Candy continued poking at the frost on the leaves. Once it all was gone, she curled her numb finger into her palm, forming a fist to try and warm it up again. Her legs were burning, her feet numb. Her new boots weren’t keeping some of the wind out. She had been standing there since before the sun came up, waiting for her friend. It was her fault she was so cold. She wanted to be early to surprise him.

Meet me by the tree, his letter had said. He would have a big surprise for her. Candy couldn’t imagine what that would mean. Surely, he would never marry her. Susie was far more suited to be his wife. His letter had promised that he would come to say hello. He was back from the war. It was over.

His mother came to the house later that day, her eyes red and puffy. Candy had waited as long as she could. In the end the frost made it impossible. His mother sat down and gathered Candy’s hands in hers. He wasn’t coming home.


(183 words)

 So late to the party, but I made it!

Perfection

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

108th Challenge

This week’s prompt provided by The Storyteller’s Abode. I absolutely love this picture!


Perfection

Mother stood against the cabinet, holding onto it for support. She had been having Marie tighten her corset more and more every few weeks; even though she could almost barely stand or breathe. She still looked so regal with the sunlight shining over her from the window. Her face always in a perfect soft smile.

Father and Josephine were still singing. Josephine’s eyes darting up toward me every few seconds, reminding me of my part coming up soon.

But I was keeping my eyes on mother. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. Why was she doing this to herself? Why could only I see the pain and suffering in her eyes that she tried so hard to hide? Why won’t father see?

My part in the song came and went. Father stopped playing.

“If you want a husband one day,” mother said, “you need to be perfect in all you do. Perfect in every way.”

Father started playing again, Josephine’s eyes baring into me. I sang my part. Perfectly.

Perfect would make her happy.


( 179 words)

I had food poisoning earlier this week and it kind of ruined any writing plans I had. Will try to be on top of things again from next week.

Connecting People

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

This week’s prompt provided by Sunayana MoiPensieve


Connecting People

Wait, what is this?

There’s a guy in the middle of the street performing a concert. Equipment and everything. I really need to get to a toilet.

I stopped. Another woman stopped, too.

I know this song. It’s something classical. Gran vals something? Dad used to play it all the time.

I took out my phone. I needed to google it. Gran vals by Francisco Tarrega. Camera on, recording. I need to show this to my dad. He’s going to freak out.

Man, I still really need to pee.

There’s a crowd forming on the other side, all with their phones out too. This guy really is amazing. He’s holding the entire crowd with just the guitar. Slowly, my hands fall down and I put my phone back into my pocket. Dad’s gone. I can’t show it to him.

So I watch. Soon the woman next to me puts her phone away as well.

We just listen.


(149 words)

0:09 to 0:15

 

Red rust

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

106th Challenge

This week’s prompt comes from The ForesterArtist

Go and have a look!


Red Rust

The group all crouched down, copying her as she looked out into the forest.

“It’s a car,” Carl said.

Everyone relaxed. Laylas walked out toward it, lowering her gun.

“We must be close to the city,” she said.

She ran her hand over the rough, rusted metal. They needed to find medicine for their mother. Only hardened Jaguar Warriors were sent to the city to find anything that the village could use. Laylas imagined the city would look a lot like the car; stripped and laid bare.

“We should stop a while,” she said, looking at Carl. “Rest while we can.”

“No. If Jaguar Warriors catch us, they’ll kill us.”

The rust left red dust on her fingers. Laylas smeared it across her cheek, pretending to be a blooded member of the Jaguars. Carl didn’t find it funny. He licked his thumb and wiped away her stripes.

“You’ll get us killed before they ever find us,” he said. Laylas quickly fell in behind the rest of the group, some rust still on her fingertips.


(174 words)

*Jaguar Warriors were inspired by Aztec Military. I watched a video about it the other day where it was briefly explained. It seemed like a good idea for a post- apocolyptic society. You can read about it here:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jaguar_warrior

*Laylas was meant to be Layla, but I accidentally added an S and now I like it.


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