It’s the day for Rochelle Risoff-Field’s Friday Fictioneers flash fiction challenge. This asks that we produce a piece of writing in 100 words. It’s definitely a challenge to write a story in so few words – but also great fun.
Well, here is this Friday’s photo . . .
. . . and this is my offering:
The customer moseyed alongside the old barge, eyeing her with disdain. ‘Yer sure this tub still floats?’ He scratched his head, mumbling. ‘It’s nowt but a pile of old junk. ’Ow much?’
‘Had an offer, ‘alf hour ago. Twenty grand.’
The expletives meant little to Archie. He’d rather keep Rosie than sell her to someone like that. A lick of red paint and she’d look good again. Young. They’d sail the Canals and remember the first Rosie, the Gypsy girl he’d loved for so long. She’d still be waiting for him; up there. A year, tops, the doctors said.
Today I’m taking part in Rochelle Risoff-Field’s Friday Fictioneers flash fiction challenge, which requires participants to write a piece of fiction in 100 words or less from the photo prompt provided. It’s my first time doing this challenge and I found it good practice in eliminating unnecessary words. (Yikes! Rambling’s a hobby of mine.)
So, here is the prompt . . .
. . . and this is my respone to it:
It was a small area, when one considered the size of the house. A simple, open-aired square, like some Daniel had seen in old Roman ruins. When the sun was low it was shaded, best suited to his dark moods.
The hired assassin made a superb job of his elder brother and parents’ murders, shooting Daniel in the shoulder to deflect the blame. The house was his now. He kept the dining table laid for them, so they’d know he hadn’t hated them: he’d just wanted this house, with the quadrangle. And the hoard of Roman coins buried beneath it.