Flash Fiction for for Aspiring Writers is a writing challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. It asks us to write a piece of fiction from the photo prompt provided in around 100-150 words – give or take 25 words. It encourages us to comment, constructively, on other entries, so supporting each other’s writing. If you’d like to join in with this challenge, follow the above link to see what to do. The challenge runs from Tuesday to Tuesday every week.
This is the prompt, kindly provided by my daughter, Louise, at thestorytellersabode:
And this is my story:
A Really Good Listener
‘You know, Stanley, it’s no fun living with a man who takes me for granted and never listens to a word I say. He’s really selfish, when I think about it.’
Glum-faced, Melanie leaned against the gate beside her friend, considering how miserable she’d been since Jack moved into her flat. ‘He never wants to go anywhere, even at weekends, says he’s too tired after working all week. Cobblers to that! I work all week, too, and have all the housework to do. Jack doesn’t even help with that. He just sits in front of the telly, waiting for his meals. And don’t get me started about the washing up.’
Feeling more positive than she’d done for months, Melanie made to leave. ‘Thanks for being a good listener, Stanley. This little chat’s helped me make my mind up. Jack can pack his bags tonight.’
Stanley the Scarecrow watched Melanie stomp off down the lane. Yes, he was a good listener. He’d be a good talker, too, if someone had thought to give him a mouth.
Word Count: 175
If you’d like to read other entries, or add a story yourself, click on the little blue frog:
Flash Fiction for for Aspiring Writers is a writing challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. It asks us to write a piece of fiction from the photo prompt provided in around 100-150 words – give or take 25 words. It encourages us to comment, constructively, on other entries, so supporting each other’s writing. If you’d like to join in with this challenge, follow the above link to see what to do. The challenge runs from Tuesday to Tuesday every week.
I must apologise for my late entry this week, PJ. (I’ve been very busy eating my Easter eggs. 😀 )
This is the prompt, kindly provided by Uday on his blog, Udayology.
. . . and this is my story:
That Goddam Portal
‘Two minutes, guys, and yer butts are through that goddam portal!’
Sam Blake surveyed his white-faced crew. ‘If y’ain’t quick enough, yer’ ll be left to face them mean critters following us.’
Billy Briggs, the newest and smallest crewman, glanced at his nodding mates: fifteen of them, all desperate to leave this hostile world. The thought of staying here was too terrible to contemplate.
‘Quit that pushin’ and a shovin’, Billy,’ Commander Blake hissed. ‘No one moves till I give the signal.’
The loud whistle sent the group hurtling for the circular doors. Unaccustomed to the procedure, Billy was thrust aside, only managing to stumble to the portal as it swung shut in his face. He turned, horror-struck at the words he heard:
‘Thought yer’d run off with them skiving kids, did yer m’ lad? There’s yer bedroom ter clean, and yer pa wants ‘is car washin’. Get back t’ yer chores . . . Now!’
Billy silently cursed. Next time, he’d be first through that goddam portal!
***
Word Count: 169
If you’d like to read other entries, or add a story yourself, click on the little blue frog:
Flash Fiction for for Aspiring Writers is a writing challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. It asks us to write a piece of fiction from the photo prompt provided in around 100-150 words – give or take 25 words. It encourages us to comment, constructively, on other entries, so supporting each other’s writing. If you’d like to join in with this challenge, follow the above link to see what to do. The challenge runs from Tuesday to Tuesday every week.
This is the prompt, kindly provided by Ady . . .
. . . and this is my story:
A Hundred Year Wait
Light-headed and disoriented, Albert drifted through the park he’d once known so well, struggling to understand why he was here at all. The colourful bench confused him further, posturing shamelessly where the old one had once reigned. He’d sat here so often with his pretty young wife . . .
‘Don’t go!’ Mary begged, grasping his hand. ‘We’ll run away… go to Scotland. They’d never find us there!’ But they would have done, and he’d have been shot at dawn . . .
The shrill whistle pierced Alfred to the core. He clasped his bayoneted rifle, scrambling ‘over the top’ of the trench’s parapet into No Man’s Land below. Enemy shells exploded; a volley of machine gun fire rang out: men fell to the quagmire’s embrace.
Albert sank into the comforting mud, knowing he’d never see Mary again. The Somme Offensive had claimed him: July 1st, 1916 . . .
A shadowy shape materialised on the bench. ‘Sit with me,’ Mary urged, beckoning. ‘I’ve waited a hundred years to see you, my love. I knew you’d return today.’
*
Word Count: 175
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Note about WW1:
July 28th, 2016 marks one hundred and two years since the start of the war that was once dubbed ‘the war to end all wars’. Unfortunately, too may wars since then has long since proven that to be false. In Britain, the war was originally known as ‘The Great War’, but is now variously called ‘The First World War’ or simply ‘World WarOne’ (or WW1).
War started in 1914, and word soon spread that it would ‘all be over by Christmas’. Such optimism was soon found to be erroneous: it lasted four long years.
The Battle of the Somme – also known as the Somme Offensive –was fought by British and French troups against the German Empire on either side of the River Somme, in France. It lasted from July 1st – November 18th, 1916, and was one of the longest battles of the First World War. More that a million men were wounded or killed. It has become known as one of the ‘bloodiest battles in human history’. On the first day alone, (July1st) 58, 786 British, 49,859 French and 103,000 German soldiers died.
There are too many aspests of trench warfare for me to talk about here – and this is not a post to explain why trenches were dug and used as they were. Anyone interested can easily look this up for themselves. All I can say is that I agree with Wikipedia’s estimation of it:
No Man’s Land was the name given to the land between the trenches of the opposing forces. It soon became a desolate area: all trees and other vegetation were destroyed by the constant bombardment:
A French trench in NE France. Author: Bain News service. Public Domain.
The shell fire of both sides left the area riddled with craters which, after periods of heavy rain, became filled with water. The land came to resemble a quagmire – a stretch of thick, muddy land that resembled a bog:
Stretcher bearers at the Battle of Passchendale. August 1917. Author: John Warwick Brooke. Public Domain.
Flash Fiction for for Aspiring Writers is a writing challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. It asks us to write a piece of fiction from the photo prompt provided in around 100-150 words – give or take 25 words. It encourages us to comment, constructively, on other entries, so supporting each other’s writing. If you’d like to join in with this challenge, follow the above link to see what to do. The challenge runs from Tuesday to Tuesday every week.
It’s a while since I was on my blog, let alone participate in a flash fiction challenge, but I thought I’d have a rest from my own writing today.
This is the prompt, kindly provided by Priceless Joy. Image courtesy of Pixabay . . .
. . . and this is my story:
Another Harebrained Scheme
‘Just what do you intend to do with this old thing?’
Bert’s head surfaced from beneath the bonnet of the old pickup and he turned indignant eyes on his wife. After forty years he’d hoped she’d understand his love of old cars.
‘Well,’ he said, wiping oily hands on a piece of rag, ‘you know Ted’s old barn along Rookery Lane?’ Connie nodded. ‘I bought it with the money I made from selling our old tractor. Ted wasn’t asking much . . . been thinking of pulling it down anyway. And Jim down in Aldford let me have the pickup cheap.’
Connie gestured to the many farm buildings. ‘Haven’t we got enough barns here?’
‘Aye, reckon we have. But this one’s right close to town, where folks’ll have no bother finding it.’
‘What folks?’
‘Folks who like museums, love. I’m opening a museum for old automobiles.’
Connie rolled her eyes. ‘Another of your harebrained schemes! Who’s going to pay for more exhibits?’
Bert shrugged. ‘I’ll let you know when I’ve had another think.’
*
Word Count: 175
If you’d like to read other entries, or add a story yourself, click on the little blue frog:
Flash Fiction for for Aspiring Writers is a writing challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. It asks us to write a piece of fiction from the photo prompt provided in around 100-150 words – give or take 25 words. It encourages us to comment, constructively, on other entries, so supporting each other’s writing. If you’d like to join in with this challenge, follow the above link to see what to do. The challenge runs from Tuesday to Tuesday every week.
It’s been a couple of months since I participated in a flash fiction challenge, but this prompt brought two different stories to mind, so I decided to have a go at one of them. Unsurprisingly, this one has a historical slant.
This is the prompt, kindly provided by Priceless Joy. Image courtesy of Pixabay . . .
. . . and this is my story:
They’re All The Rage!
Lady Penelope withdrew her hand from the marmalade pot and gaped at the grinning sixteen-year-old across the breakfast table. Her husband, Lord Geoffrey Troughton, engrossed in reading the morning news, showed no signs of having heard their son’s request.
‘What on earth do you mean Archie?’ she demanded. ‘I’ve no idea what a ‘Penny Farthing’ is,let alone where to buy you one for Christmas.’
Archie let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Surely you’ve heard of them, Mother . . . everyone’s talking about them. They’re really quite the rage. All the chaps at school are getting them for Christmas, and I’d like one, too.’
Lord Troughton lowered his newspaper. ‘It’s another of those bicycle machines, my dear,’ he explained. ‘It has a large wheel at the front and the smaller one at the back, reminiscent of the different sized coins, the penny and the farthing. They’re remarkably fast, Archie – just right for the modern age . . .’
Penelope went back to eating her toast. She’d have no further say in the matter now.
Word Count: 175
Penny Farthing, invented 1880-82. Image courtesy of Pixabay
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Millie Thom 