Man, I need to write on this blog more! I’m grateful for Rochelle’s weekly flash fiction challenge on her blog, Addicted to Purple, to remind me to visit my poor, neglected blog. For Friday Fictioneers, we get an image and 100 words to tell a story. We also get several days to do it–the flexibility of this weekly prompt is a big plus for me, and I’m sure, for others as well! This week’s image comes from Janet M. Webb. Click on the blue frog icon below to read more stories or to add your own.
I’d scoffed at talk of the “purge” and how the survivors would be washed clean for a new world, but as the rain fell and the water rose, I began to believe.
When the water was up to our ankles, we ran around in it, laughing while neighbors shouted at our blasphemy.
When the water seeped into the houses, enveloping the furniture, we went to the roof, awaiting lightning bolts or a rainbow.
When water covered the roof, we climbed into the old rowboat.
Now water covers everything, and there are a few boats, but nowhere to row them to.
This story was written for the weekly Flash Fiction challenge posted each Wednesday by Rochelle on her blog, Addicted to Purple. We get an image and 100 words to tell a story. We also get several days to do it–the flexibility of this weekly prompt is a big plus for me, and I’m sure, for others as well! This week’s image comes from Jan Wayne Fields. Click on the blue frog icon below to read more stories or to add your own.
image copyright Jan Wayne Fields
He hadn’t been to New York since the world ended. Approaching from the water, it was easy to slide into the old reality, but when he docked and made his way in, the emptiness hit.
He walked quickly, looking away from empty storefronts and abandoned bodegas.
No traffic, no resistance.
In her apartment, there was dust everywhere, and a smell. A handwritten note on the bedroom door read:
If anyone survives this plague, you will. Live. I’ll see you when you’re through.
He sighed. He’d hoped today would end his loneliness, but he had more solitude to bear.
This story was written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’s weekly flash fiction prompt, Friday Fictioneers. She provides us with a photo prompt as inspiration, and we get 100 words to tell a story. This week’s photo comes from Jan Marler Morrill. Click on the blue frog below to read other stories or to add your own! Also, be sure to check out Rochelle’s blog, Addicted to Purple, and her published works, including Please Say Kaddish for Me!
Nightmares & Dreams
“There is a street in Greece where your eyes barely see the cobblestones, though your feet feel them, and there, a blue door, obscured by vines—”
“Not again with the ‘blue door covered in vines,’ Pop,” Mom said.
“Oscured by vines,” five-year-old Elsa corrected.
Grandpa continued: “I opened that door.”
“What’d you see?” I asked.
“Things more wonderful than I’d imagined. Things more terrible than I’d feared.”
Elsa’s eyes widened.
“Pop,” Mom said. “Right before bed?”
“Tell us,” I urged.
“I can’t tell all of it. But I can tell of one creature, wonderful and terrible: the Garsnatch.”