Friday, April 25, 2014

The show

(100-word flash fiction)


The lead guitarist was missing and the crowd was getting restive. Jerry, frantic, was about to improvise when there emerged an elderly man carrying a guitar case. He slowly walked over to Steve’s place.

“Steve couldn’t come.” He quietly answered Jerry’s angry, questioning glare. “I am his father. I’ve come to take his place. The show must go on, shouldn’t it?”

That night the guitar sang of pride, childhood, loss and triumph. It was spellbinding.

After they closed, Jerry invited Mr.Faulkner over for a drink.

“What happened to Steve?”

Mr.Faulkner’s tired face crumpled.

“He had a heart attack. He’s gone.”

Written for the amazing group Friday Fictioneers led by Rochelle. For the photo prompt below -
Copyright - Bjorn Brudberg

The Spinster

(100-word flash fiction)


She finds the abandoned baby one dark evening in the bushes outside her house. Her orphan, spinster heart overflowing with love she herself has never known, pours it into his tiny life.

Like a tidal wave, his ‘real’ parents crash land, accuse her of ‘kidnapping’, threaten to get her arrested, finally leave with him, leaving her lost, broken and crumpled like a wasted ruin. She picks herself up and plods on.

She is late returning to an empty home from her retirement party. As she pushes open the gate, a young man steps out of the shadows.
Written for the amazing group Friday Fictioneers led by Rochelle. For the photo prompt below -
Copyright - Douglas M. MacIlroy


(100 word flash fiction)


He stood alone on the dusty little railway platform. The train, having sucked people into its metal belly, had rattled off. Where was his father?

Disappointed, he climbed into the solitary taxi. It was night when they reached his remote hamlet. When the driver stopped unexpectedly in the village square, he began to protest.

Suddenly, the place burst into light. Festooned with dried rice stalks, the square erupted with fireworks and the cheers of the entire village. His father stood beaming and his mother rushed forward to embrace him.

He had returned after 10 years, the hamlet’s first qualified doctor.


P.S. Wanted to write something positive this week after all the sad stories I’ve been writing :) but it seems it has come out rather flat :(

Written for the amazing group Friday Fictioneers led by Rochelle. For the photo prompt below -

copyright - DLovering

Lights! Camera! Action!

(100-word flash fiction in poem form)


How ardently she wished
to shut out those words
that followed her everywhere,
into the bath, into her dreams,

that pecked at her brain
like a cerebral woodpecker,
from age 3 to age 18
from child-star to super-star.

So, first she invited over
a deadly little virus,
it took with it her hearing
and most of her voice.

But she was too famous,
her mother too ambitious
the voices didn’t stop
the roles kept coming.

Then came the fall-
it cut up her face, broke
some bones, nothing
plastic surgery couldn’t fix

Finally, the fire did it…..


This week’s entry for Friday Fictioneers, that amazing group led and prompted by Rochelle :) The prompt is the following image -

Studio Lights from Kent

The trees

(100-word flash fiction)


The trees have taken over the earth. The humans thought they were on top of the pyramid. But all it took was one storm. Unknotted by lightning, unrolled by thunder, and rain. Unrelenting rain. The humans got buried under their own debris. The earth had turned into water, a liquid tomb, which softly sucked at all that flesh.

When it stopped, there were worms everywhere. In eye sockets that once had dreamt dreams, chest cavities where had throbbed hearts, pelvises that had borne generations. The trees had eaten the rest.

Their trunks are now beginning to look like human limbs.


100-word flash fiction for Friday Fictioneers at Rochelle’s. Written for the image prompt below.

Copyright-John Nixon

The Latticed window

(100-word flash fiction)


She stood on the road and looked up at the latticed window, seeing it for the first time from the outside, thinking how beautiful it looked.

She had found herself on the inside one bleak, moonless night, a child bride at 13, an elderly man’s fifth wife. 16 years of hell had followed.

She had been imprisoned in the house, not been allowed to step outside, not even when her father died.

That’s when she had decided to escape. The others were fellow prisoners, all married to the jail-keeper. He had to go.

All it had taken was a pillow.


100-word flash fiction for Friday Fictioneers at Rochelle’s .  Written for the image prompt below -

(100-word flash fiction)


As she walks over the wooden bridge, the planks creak. It seems they are trying to say something, but she puts that thought aside, as she recalls the time, when as a child she had dived into the deep end of the pool. It had been so beautiful underwater, so quiet. She could have stayed there forever. But they had pulled her out, made her breathe again.

This time she hopes no one finds her. That she can stay underwater forever, having to breathe no more. When she realises with a start, the planks are saying, “no, no, no ….”

Friday Fictioneers prompt by Rochelle. Write a 100-word flash fiction piece based on a photo.