“Reading the Signs” Flash Fiction for Friday Fictioneers

This story was written for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by wonderful author and artist, Rochelle, on her website, Addicted to Purple.  Each week, she provides us with a photo prompt and her own story, and we have 100 words to respond with out take.  Anyone is welcome to participate–just give credit to the provider of the photo prompt (provided this week by J. Hardy Carroll), write your own story, and click on the blue frog below to read others’ work and add a link to your own.

j-hardy-rubble

Image copyright J Hardy Carroll

Reading the Signs

(100 words)

Frieda and Barb moved through the debris, touching familiar broken chairs and upturned tables absently.  They had been many times to the abandoned factory, but none of those trips had been this important.  Brenna was missing.

Barb gasped at the first stained glass image.

“Brenna,” Frieda said.

They followed the pictures from left to right, seeing the little girl get scooped into a car and driven to a little house by the ocean.  They studied the car and the man driving it.  They studied the house.  They called 9-1-1 and gave an anonymous tip.  They watched the glass, and prayed.

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“Possession” – Flash Fiction for Friday Fictioneers

This story was written for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by wonderful writer, Rochelle, on her website, Addicted to Purple.  Each week, she provides us with a photo prompt and her own story, and we have 100 words to respond with out take.  Anyone is welcome to participate–just give credit to the provider of the photo prompt (provided this week by J. Hardy Carroll–thank you!), write your own story, and click on the blue frog below to read others’ work and add a link to your own.

I’ve been lax with participating and with my blog in general, but today was a good day to write here!  I am still writing, at least.  I’ve just been hoarding my time for other projects, but I do feel that nagging twinge that comes with neglecting the blog, and, as ever, I am telling myself to do better!  : )

gateway-jhardy

Photo Copyright J. Hardy Carroll

Possession

(100 words)

It’s hard to hear Evelyn say we’d always been welcome when they’d always had the iron fence.

I remember the day I’d climbed a tree and dropped down.  I explored all those secret spaces.  I imagined wearing a gown.  A prince would propose, but I’d say no, I couldn’t leave my garden or my fish pond; I’d send him back beyond the gate—but I was the one ejected.  As I left, Evelyn watched in triumph.

Now, the town mourns Evelyn’s father.  She wants our love, but how can we love when we can’t even reach them with arms outstretched?

“Love” – Flash Fiction for Friday Fictioneers

Sorry for some of my late replies last week.  That election was a shocker.  (By the way, if you’re interested, I had a story, “The Magic,” inspired by current events recently published with Necessary Fiction–please feel free to check it out.)  And it didn’t help my writing that my little one has been teething something wicked–but still feeling lucky and happy to be home with her this year (and tutoring part-time) before going back to work full time next fall.

This story was written for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by wonderful writer, Rochelle, on her website, Addicted to Purple.  Each week, she provides us with a photo prompt and her own story, and we have 100 words to respond with out take.  Anyone is welcome to participate–just give credit to the provider of the photo prompt (this week, thanks to Bjorn!), write your own story, and click on the blue frog below to read others’ work and add a link to your own.

PHOTO PROMPT © Björn Rudeberg

Photo Prompt copyright Bjorn Rudberg

Love

(99 words)

Before Jodie was one, she shouted, shook maracas, and banged on every surface.  She bounced when music played, clapping and smiling her gummy smile.

When she was seven, she played the guitar by the pond, and the fireflies hovered around her, bobbing gently with the music.

At ten, she played a trumpet solo that filled everyone in the audience with confidence.  The principal had her play during the morning announcements, to dispense daily courage.

When she fell in love, she snuck into the church and played her cello.  Light gathered.  Momentarily, everything in her and around her was holy.

“The New House” – Flash Fiction for Friday Fictioneers

This story is for Friday Fictioneers, the weekly prompt Rochelle Wisoff-Fields gives on her blog, Addicted to Purple.  We get a photo and no more than 100 words to tell a story.  This week’s photo is from Douglas M. MacIlroy.  Also, if you’d like to read more responses to this prompt, or if you’d like to add your own, click on the blue frog below.

My take this week is grim.  Sorry about that!  Not sure how I got there…I think I was trying to make sure it wasn’t just a playful romp, but still had some plot, since the picture seemed so happy to me initially, and I think I overcompensated!

monsters-dmm

Photo Prompt – Copyright Douglas M. MacIlroy

The New House

(100 words)

Daddy tried to make unpacking exciting, chasing us with grandpa’s diver’s helmet, but even as we squealed, we felt dread.

That night, there were strange knocks and shadows.

We grew to accept these.

Eventually, we began to see another family: a father, mother and two boys.

In our dreams, the father and mother told us to leave.  The boys warned of consequences.  We woke from their pinches to see our doors swing open.

We didn’t leave.  Not in time.  After two years, Daddy fell down the stairs and died.  Mama sold the house, and we left, two years too late.

“Back” – Flash Fiction for Friday Fictioneers

This flash fiction story was written for Friday Fictioneers, the weekly prompt provided by Rochelle on her blog, Addicted to Purple.  We get a photo for inspiration and no more than 100 words to tell a story.  Be sure to visit Rochelle’s blog to take a worthwhile look into her world!  Also, if you’d like to read more responses to this prompt, or if you’d like to add your own, click on the blue frog below.

grey-day-with-pigeons-roger-bultot

Photo Prompt – copyright Roger Bultot

Back

(98 words)

That morning, I saw the birds on the wire and knew they’d seen what I’d missed: my father’s disappearance.

I used to imagine someone kidnapped him, and he’d escape and return…or I’d rescue him.  Now, I know he must’ve willingly walked into the foggy ether.  Did he look back?  Probably.  Most people would.  But it doesn’t count unless you go back.

He’s in the waiting room now, to interview for a job.  Will he recognize me?

In the end, I hire him.  He thanks me.

I’m a masochist.  Or a sadomasochist.  We’ll both pay for what we’ve done.

“Time to Move On” – Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers

This story was written for the Friday Fictioneers challenge, provided each week by Rochelle, on her blog, Addicted to Purple.  Writers get 100 words to write a flash fiction story inspired by the given photo prompt.  Click on the blue frog below to read other stories and to add your own!

antiques-along-the-mohawk

image – copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Time to Move on

(100 words)

At midnight, the clock ceased ticking, and the magician appeared.

“Hello, Evan.  Time to pay.”

“My soul.  It’s wrong to take it.”

“No matter what deal was struck?  Let’s proceed.”

Evan held out a locket.  “Take this.  It’s my soul, as much as anything.”

The magician opened it, amused until his hands disintegrated.  Soon, he was a pile of dust.

Evan retrieved the locket, smiling at his wife.  This was for her.  He’d learned one more trick than the magician knew.  Now, he’d join his love.  Locket around his neck, heavy clock in his pocket, Evan descended to the river.

By the way, I’ve posted the second part of my story, “Spring Spirit.”  Part 3 is coming soon!  Click here to read part 1, and here for part 2.

“Broken Silence” – Flash Fiction – Friday Fictioneers

The following was written for Friday Fictioneers, run by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted to Purple.  She provides the photo prompt (this week from Sean Fallon!) and you have 100 words to tell a story.  Click on the blue frog below to read other stories and to add your own.

copyight-sean-fallon

copyright Sean Fallon

Broken Silence

(97 words)

“Pop-pop broken again,” Hannah said.  Aside from the electronic music, the toy lawnmower had balls that popped up and down inside as it moved.

Mother opened the compartment.  “No batteries!  I could’ve sworn…  I don’t know what keeps happening.”

Hannah whined.

“All out, sweetheart.  We’ll go to the store later.  Let’s draw.”

Hannah soon settled in with only the scuffing of crayon on paper to announce her presence.

“Need anything, Jack?” Mother asked.

“I’m fine,” said Jack, returning to his book.  He smiled, thinking of the jar of batteries under his bed and the quiet hours ahead.

By the way – I’m working on part 2 of “Spring Spirit,” and should be able to post it soon!

“A Friendly Visit” – Flash Fiction for Friday Fictioneers

This was written for Friday Fictioneers.  Each Friday, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields provides a photo prompt and gives anyone and everyone a chance to respond with a story of 100 words or under.  Click on the blue frog below to read other stories and to add your own!

chateau-de-sable-ceayr

Copyright – ceayr

A Friendly Visit

(99 words)

“Sure someone lives here?” Jenna asked.

“Why do you say that?” Beatrice pressed the intercom button.  “It’s me.”

Jenna didn’t reply.  There were no cars or people.  An air of neglect hung over the place.

The gate opened.

Jenna followed Beatrice through the yard, into the foyer.  There was no furniture, and very little light.

Beatrice turned, looking at Jenna expectantly.

“Where’re your grandparents?” Jenna asked.

Beatrice grinned.  “Don’t you see them?”

The front door swung shut.  Something was wrong.

“I brought her for you!” Beatrice shouted.

Before Jenna fainted, she saw the shadows, creeping toward her along the walls.

“Moment to Moment” – Flash Fiction, Mondays Finish the Story

Here’s my contribution to this week’s Mondays Finish the Story prompt, provided every week by Barbara W. Beacham.  She provides the photo prompt and the first  sentence, and writers have 100-150 more words to finish the story.  The first line is in bold and italics below.  Click on the blue frog after the story text to read others’ stories and to add your own.

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

Moment to Moment

(1st sentence + 150 words)

Now this is living the life of Riley.  I look at the contented cat, luxuriating on his cushion and nod.  He and I have that in common: the ability to truly live in the moment and be aware of all that moment has to offer.

I create for myself as many beautiful moments as possible.  Now, covered in bubbles, luxuriating in the hot bath water with scented candles and soft music, is one of mine.  Another will come tonight, when I pack up all the money, jewelry and fine clothes, and disappear while Jay Prendergast is downstairs gambling and smoking his foul cigars.  The night air always feels especially fine after a clean getaway.

The next moment after that?  I think it will be far from here.  After kitty and I have flown over an ocean and landed on our feet.  We will circle, stretch, rest, and then, we will hunt.  The two of us are excellent hunters.

“Caught Up” – Flash Fiction – Friday Fictioneers

It’s been a busy time, getting back into teaching the last few months and getting the house ready for our baby!  28 weeks and counting…  I haven’t been nearly as diligent about my blog as I’d like, but I’m back to Friday Fictioneers this week, a weekly prompt provided by Rochell Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted to Purple.  You get an image and up to 100 words to tell a story.  Click on the blue frog below to read other stories and to add your own.  If you have time, check out my previous post about Three Line Thursday’s new Light Lines anthology, released this week!

Image copyright Ted Strutz

Image copyright Ted Strutz

Caught Up

(98 words)

I watch all the air riders, strung out into the sky carelessly and spinning.  I shudder.  I’ve had enough of that feeling.

I’m here to get control.  After today, I won’t be a puppet in someone else’s grip.

“Juliet?” a male voice said behind me.

“Yes,” I say, though that isn’t my real name.  “Romeo says he needs the friar.”

Baseball cap pulled down, he pulls a thick envelope from his jacket.  I hand him a different one from my purse, taking his.  We split.

Romeo.  I’ll kill him for involving me in this.  Unless I die first.