Flash Fiction – Page 9

It’s All About The Chemistry

Published on February 24, 2015November 24, 2015 by milliethom45 Comments

It’s time to have a go at Monday’s Finish the Story. This is a flash fiction challenge which asks that we write a story in 150 words from the picture and first line prompt provided by the host, Barbara W. Beacham.

Here is this week’s photo . . .

. . . and this is my story, including the first line prompt:

The old typewriter had a mind of its own.

Seventy-four-year-old Mavis Wetherton uncovered her cherished old Underwood typewriter, intent on writing the next chapter of her novel – a detective story, set in 1950s London. She switched on the old Zenith radio, another of her ’50s treasures, just as the Everleys rocked their way through ‘Bye Bye Love.’

The old Underwood worked perfectly, the letters sharply defined. The machine had been over forty years old when she’d acquired it in 1959 – the day her boss has been about to throw it out. She’d simply asked if she could keep it …

The romance had blossomed from there: their 55^th wedding anniversary was later this year.

‘How you get that thing to work beats me,’ Frank said from the doorway. ‘Won’t do a thing for me.’

Mavis smiled. ‘It’s all about chemistry, Frank. Me, my Underwood and the music. Together we hit the right note. Just like you and me do.’

Word Count: 150

To view other entries, click here.

A Good Makeover – Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers

Published on February 21, 2015November 24, 2015 by milliethom21 Comments

This is another new challenge for me and it certainly looks to be an interesting one. I think it’s a really brilliant idea of Priceless Joy’s to have a challenge for ‘aspiring’ writers. The challenge involves writing a piece of fiction from the photo prompt provided in around 100- 150 words. It encourages participants to comment (constructively, of course) on other entries, thereby supporting each other’s writing. If you’d like to join in with this challenge, follow the link in the title of PJ’s, blog: Beautiful Words. The challenge runs from Wednesday to Wednesday every week.

Here is this week’s photo . . .

wpid-photo-20150218105243646 — Photo copyright: Dawn M. Miller

and this is my story . . .

From the opposite side of the road, Nora Wainwright massaged her aching back and surveyed the Bookstore: her destination, as always, at 10.30 a.m. on weekdays. Her friends weren’t due for another hour and she had time to kill.

She considered the store’s new frontage; the façade it presented to the world. At 72, Nora could do with one of those: a good makeover. Nothing too drastic, mind, no surgeon’s knife and complete image change. She’d still look like Nora Wainwright – just as the Bookstore had kept its original, sash-style windows and ornate relief. A new hairdo, some modern clothes and makeup would be nice. She glanced at her well-rounded midriff. She could lose a few pounds, too… Her gaze drifted up to the Bookstore’s second floor, the mouth-watering confectionery in the coffee lounge.

Nora headed across the street, intent on considering makeovers whilst enjoying her first cream bun.

Word Count: 150

Shards – Friday Fictioneers

Published on February 20, 2015November 24, 2015 by milliethom70 Comments

I seem to be getting later every week with my Friday Fictioneers contribution. I almost left it until tomorrow, but decided against the idea. So, here it is. The challenge is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff Fields and is open to anyone who would like to join in. Just follow the link above for details. The challenge involves writing a story in no more than 100 words from the photo prompt provided by Rochelle.

Here is this week’s photo . . .

crystals — Copyright: Marie Gail Stratford

And this is my story . . .

Sounds of shattering glass disturb my troubled sleep. Silvery-red shards shoot across the confined space, shimmering in the glow from the neon light in the street beyond. Sharp spikes strike my face and arms, piercing my exposed skin. I scream and cover my face as specks of blood pattern my arms.

Not my eyes! Leave me my eyes!

I struggle to understand why I suffer thus, and in the silence, I waken.

The hospital ward is peaceful now. I clutch at the dressings around my eyes and remember…

Shards of shimmering glass shoot out from my shattered windscreen…

Word Count: 100

If you’d like to read other entries just click on the little blue frog below:

A Matter of Preference

Published on February 13, 2015November 24, 2015 by milliethom51 Comments

It’s time again for the Friday Fictioneers, kindly hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. This is a writing challenge which asks that we produce a piece of fiction in 100 words from the photo prompt given. If you’d like to contribute to this challenge, just follow the link through Rochelle’s blog to read the instructions and copy the photo.

Here is this week’s photo . . .

balcony — Copyright: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

. . . and this is my story:

Abigail gazed across the lawn, a warm breeze rustling the gold-tipped leaves of the tall magnolia and nurturing her memories…

The veranda heaved with folks cooing over her newly-christened brother. Six-year-old Abigail fled to her room, tears streaming as her jealousy soared. Since Ethan’s birth, Daddy had taken his love away.

‘Where are you, Abigail?’ It was Daddy’s voice, down in the hall. He wanted her again.

‘Daddy!’ she cried, lowering her foot to the top stair…

It was a warm September day in 1886 when they buried her in the peaceful little cemetery.

But Abigail liked it better here.

Word Count: 100

If you’d like to read other entries, click the little blue frog below:

The Fisherman’s Tale

Published on February 11, 2015November 24, 2015 by milliethom15 Comments

This is my second contribution to Mondays Finish the Story – an excellent flash fiction challenge hosted by Barbara W. Beacham. The challenge requires us to write a piece of fiction between 100-150 words from the photo and first line prompt provided by Barbara.

In fact, this was my original effort. Then I had another thought and wrote that out: effort number two. Then, not particularly happy with either of those, I wrote a third! That was the one I published yesterday. Now I’ve had another look at my first story and have decided to give it a go. The second version can stay where it is . . . it’s somewhat ‘darker’.

So, here is this week’s photo . . .

. . . and this is my story, including the first line prompt:

Dropping her line into Fool’s Lake, she patiently waited for something to bite.

It wasn’t often that Molly came fishing, more often than not satisfied just living in this beautiful place. But alone by the lake she could contemplate her life: the lies and deceit – and the fun.

Sometimes, thoughts of those things excited her, made her long for the next time. That insatiable urge would rise in her chest, suffocating and intoxicating all at once. How it amused her.

Tomorrow, hordes of gullible fishermen would start streaming in, all vying to win the prize. She laughed to think how they believed the tale: a fish of such proportions as to warrant the name of ‘monster’!

Her sleek black wetsuit with its mermaid-styled rear waited at her father’s hotel across the lake. She would permit the fools a glimpse of tail – perhaps a dorsal fin; enough to engender a tale, encourage the odd snapshot…

Dad’s hotel had positively boomed this year.

149 words

If you’d just like to view some of the other entries, click the link here.

It’s A Man Thing – Mondays Finish the Story

Published on February 10, 2015November 24, 2015 by milliethom26 Comments

It’s Monday again, the day for Barbara Beacham’s excellent flash fiction challenge, Mondays Finish the Story. This asks that we write a piece of fiction in 100-150 words from the photo and first word prompt provided by our host.

If you fancy having a go at this, click on the link above to get the instructions on how to post and follow the link to other entries.

If you’d just like to view some of the other entries, click the link here.

Here is this week’s photo . . .

. . . and this is my story for this week, including the first line prompt:

Dropping her line into Fool’s Lake, she patiently waited for something to bite.

‘Girls’re useless at fishin’. Fifteen-year old David Mullard sniggered at his sister’s outraged face, touching the toe of his boot to her empty bucket. ‘Tha’s been out ’ere all mornin’ an’ bucket’s nowt init yet.’

Brenda’s smouldering eyes fixed on her puny twin, who’d been annoying her for the past hour. ‘Push off afore I count t’ three, or I’ll smash yer ’ead in!’

David considered the matter, deciding that his brawny sister would have no problem bashing his head to a pulp against the jetty. He backed up a few yards.

‘Wait till a tell yer fancyman ’ow daft y’ look in them fishin’ togs. ’Es waitin’ for yer back at ’ouse.

‘What!’ Brenda shrieked, tossing down her rod. ‘Why dint y’ tell us?’

‘Arh jus’ did,’ David said, grinning as he watched her retreating back. He picked up the expensive rod. ‘Now fer a bit o’ man fishin’.’

Word Count: 150

I’ve attempted a Yorkshire dialect this week, with all it’s dropped letters and old-fashioned sounding words like thee and thou – or abbreviations of them. In speech, some words are just missed out altogether, the meaning of the sentence left to the reader/listener’s powers of deduction (or imagination!).

The dialect contains many words derived from the Norse – a reminder of the time between the 9th and 10th centuries when Yorkshire was a part of the Danelaw, initiated in the late 9th century by Alfred the Great. My very favourite person!

Labyrinth – Friday Fictioneers

Published on February 6, 2015November 24, 2015 by milliethom37 Comments

Here is this week’s photo, copyright Melanie Greenwood . . .

. . . and here is my story:

I tumble into a deep, dark place, removed from the laughter and light. I traipse the labyrinth of my mind, engulfed in a maelstrom of questioning thoughts. Yet, like swirling tendrils of shadows along my path, answers reach out to taunt me, then melt away to obscurity.

Why am I lost, alone in the bleakness of night? Will the sun never rise in this covert place? Why has my youthful body deserted me, left me in these serpentine depths?

But wait! A light shines down on this maze: my escape to the world beyond … and reunion with my body.

Word Count: 100

This is a little different to the pieces I’ve been writing recently. I was particularly drawn to that single beam of light in the photo. I almost wrote somethig historical (my favourite genre!) but changed my mind at the last minute. Too late to change things now – I’m about to post!

To read other entries, click on the little blue fellow below:

Holed Up – Mondays Finish the Story

Published on February 4, 2015November 24, 2015 by milliethom46 Comments

Due to family circumstances I’m a couple of days late with this week’s Mondays Finish the Story. This is a flash fiction writing challenge involving writing a story of 100-150 words from the photo and first line prompt kindly provided by the host, Barbara Beacham.

If you fancy having a go at this yourself, just click on the link above and get typing! Instructions about how to post your story are on the page.

Here is this week’s photo . . .

and this is my story, including the first sentence prompt:

Diamond Jack had his hideout next to the Rattle Snake River.

‘He’s holed up in that thar’ shack,’ Billy murmured to his brother as they unstrapped the Winchesters from their saddle packs. ‘Almost a month, ol’ Jesse reckons.’

Casey swept his brow with his sleeve, squinting into the blazing sun. ‘Way I see it, we go in and get the varmint now. He’s taken two good men down already – two too many, I say.’

They crept towards the old prospector’s shack. It made an ideal hideout: good hunting in the scrubland and a ready water supply. Billy checked his rifle. ‘We shoot on sight. If Jack’s as wily as we’re told, he’ll be a waitin’ fer us. And we ain’t taking no chances.’

Casey frowned. ‘So why’d Jesse call the varmint Jack?’

‘Reminded him of his Pa, I guess. Real big guy, he said, fast as lightning and a killer bite.

Biggest Diamondback Rattler he’d ever seen.’

Word Count: 147

Picture It and Write – Druid Path

Published on January 31, 2015November 24, 2015 by milliethom25 Comments

Here is my contribution to this week’s Picture It and Write Challenge. This is a weekly writing challenge, posted every Sunday, by the author of Ermiliablog. The challenge is to write a piece of fiction or a poem in response to the photo prompt given. I’m rather late with this one, as the next one will be out tomorrow!

Here is this week’s photo prompt . . .

…. and here is my piece of fiction:

In the sombre grey light before sunrise, the column of white-clad priests moved along the leaf-strewn path in respectful silence. Behind his father at the head of the train, Gueiridd kept his hooded head bowed, focusing on the swirling mists enveloping his feet. Passing through each elaborately twisted spiral of willow, he feared his tormented screams would erupt. For like the great stone circles of his forbears, the spirals symbolized the all-powerful Sun-god, the source of all beings.

Gueiridd dared not glance behind, could not watch his beloved being dragged to her fate. Her only crime was that of loving him; loving the son of the merciless Arch Druid, Morcar. Once they reached the sacred grove, Brietta would be sacrificed to the Sun-god.

Chanting now, the column streamed through the ring of ancient oaks to a clearing within, slowly circling the granite altar at its centre. As Brietta was laid upon it, the Sun-god rose from the Otherworld, casting golden rays through the sacred grove.

Morcar raised the sacrificial knife…

‘No . . .’ Restraint abandoned, Gueiridd hurled himself at his father. Prepared for this likelihood, two dagger-wielding priests leapt to restrain him. Gueiridd’s howl rang through the grove as Morcar plunged the sacrificial blade deep into Brietta’s chest.

The thought that he would be next came as relief to Gueiridd. He would meet his Brietta in the next life. And the Sun-god would be doubly appeased this day.

Radcliffe Hall

Published on January 30, 2015November 24, 2015 by milliethom21 Comments

Friday’s the day for Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s, Friday Fictioneers flash fiction challenge. This requires us to produce a piece of writing in no more than 100 words from the photo-prompt provided. Although it’s quite a challenge to write a mini-story in so few words, I really enjoy doing it!

Here’s this week’s photo, provided by Ted Strutz . . .

. . . and here is my offering:

‘Mr. Digby.’ The elderly widow’s arrogant tone cut through the estate agent’s spiel. ‘I’m well aware that the celebrated Radcliffe’s once owned this house – and of the property’s value. I’m also aware of its scandalously high asking price. Undoubtedly you could sell it to someone prepared to overlook its dilapidated state in view of the prestigious address … although it also needs completely rewiring.’

Mr. Digby followed her censorious gaze to the antiquated socket, reconsidering his options. ‘Make me an offer?’

Sarah Drummond née Radcliffe smiled, her eyes sweeping the elegant room. ‘Mummy will soon be home,’ she whispered.

100 words

Click on the blue frog to view other entries.