A Good Darned Flag – Monday’s Finish the Story

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

Here is this week’s photo . . .

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

*

Pizza anyone?’ the dark-headed waiter asked.

Chris glowered at the man, noting the name-tag on his jacket with the name ‘Fabio’ written on it. He was still piqued that Jane had booked the meal without consulting him. Their first anniversary, for Pete’s sake – and she knew he never ate pizza!

‘Menu and wine list…?’ Fabio continued, evidently puzzled by his hostile response.

‘Pizza … pizza… pasta …. I don’t eat any of these,’ Chris snapped. ‘Everything’s got meat in it. And I hate pasta!’

‘Ah, no meat …’ Fabio’s face crinkled in thought. ‘We can make vegetarian pasta … or pizza with mushrooms … or olives. Margherita pizza perhaps: sizzling white Mozzarella cheese, sweet red tomatoes, garnished with bright  green bay leaves.’ He kissed his fingers and flicked them out. ‘The colours of Italia’s flag …’

Chris washed down his last mouthful with a swig of Chianti. ‘Best darned flag I’ve ever eaten.’

Word Count: 150

I wrote this story with my husband in mind. He’s a vegetarian – and a very faddy one. He won’t eat rice or pasta dishes and would never touch pizza until we had a holiday in Sorento. Not liking Italian food at all, he tended to eat Margherita pizza at least once every day. He certainly didn’t love it, and has rarely eaten it since.

If you’d like to read other entries, click here.

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Teamwork – Monday’s Finish the Story

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

Here is this week’s photo . . .

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

When the team heard the dam explode, they knew they had limited time to make it to safety. 

Dave made the split-second decision that offered his team the only hope of survival. Ahead lay the series of rapids they’d been preparing to negotiate: too late now to escape the river’s fast-flowing pull. Behind them the raging dam waters neared.

‘Blades down!’ he yelled from the helm, thrusting his paddle into the billowing foam. ‘We’re in this together, so control this baby!’

The raft plunged over the dip … straight into the clutches of violent eddies that sent them spinning into jagged rocks. The raft tilted perilously and water swamped the craft. Two men momentarily disappeared, only practised survival skills preventing them from being swept into the suds.

They hit the pool mere yards from the bank as the deafening roar reached the dip.

‘Swim for it!’ Dave yelled.

‘Great teamwork, guys,’ Greg hollered down as they scrambled up the bank. Sound effects OK? River rescue practice tomorrow …’

Word count: 150

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The Double-Crosser – Monday’s Finish the Story

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

Here is this week’s photo . . .

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

A body suddenly crashed through a plate glass window at the brigadier’s house. It plummeted past Brigadier Humphreys, lounging on the balcony below. He sped upstairs and into the room, his lower jaw quivering in outrage.

‘What the deuce is going on?’ he demanded, glaring at the shattered window.

‘Relax, Brigadier,’ Mike Jewson soothed, his Texan drawl pronounced. ‘You’ll be reimbursed real well for use of your place once we’re done.’

‘B … but the body …?

Jewson shrugged. ‘No worries, man. Best way to deal with the double-crosser, is all.’

Charles Humphries glanced about the room, taking in the amused faces and their fancy equipment. ‘But you can’t just murder someone, it–’

‘ – was necessary, Brigadier,’ a tall, suave man in tux and bow tie cut in. ‘Agent 008 at your service,’ he added, grinning. ‘He was threatening British Security.’

‘Ah, that’s different then,’ the brigadier murmured as he left.

‘Go retrieve the dummy, Hank, then we roll with scene two.’

Word count: 150

To view other entries, click here.

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