Fairytales and Happy Endings

PHOTO PROMPT © Jilly Funell

 

In the old days, we had magic mirrors, crystal balls and reflection pools. Today we have Facebook. Fairy God Mother was eager to see what her princesses were up to.

An image popped up of a yellow-haired beauty, locks trailing the floors of a refurbished circular room. Guten Tag! Renovations completed! Hashtag new life begins.

FGM smiled, then grimaced at the next image.

Another blonde pouted, in that awful duck face. Date night with my prince! In the comments a brunette posted, Enjoy the honeymoon phase while it lasts, Cindy. Once a beast always a beast.

Oh Belle, sighed FGM.

100 words

I hope you enjoyed my modern take on fairytale princesses. I quite enjoyed writing this too.

Is anyone here participating in NaNoWriMo? I plan on doing it this year. Properly this time. 😉

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less. Go!

Click the blue frog icon to read more flash fiction or to add yours to the list.

get the InLinkz code

 

The stonemason’s daughter

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Scuffling at the entrance caught little Paul’s attention. Through the wide church entrance he saw the priest, and some church elders, arguing with her.

She caught his eye then, watery blue. Then she looked at her adversaries and turned around, down the steps away from the church. The elders watching after her, ensuring her retreat.

“It is a shame.” muttered Mama. “Her father built this very church. And now she cannot enter.”

“Why?”

“She believes in things the elders do not.”

“People say she is a witch.”

“Shush!”

Paul remembered her eyes. “I think she’s more of a fairy.”

99 words

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge should you wish to accept it, is to write a story in 100 words or less.

Thanks to group leader Rochelle for this week’s intriguing image that led me to thoughts of cathedrals, witches, outcasts and fairies.

Click the blue frog to read more flash fiction or to upload your own story.

get the InLinkz code

Clueless

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

 

“I can’t believe you just ate it, Sheldon!” Betty sighed on the other end of the phone line.

“What else does one do with cupcakes?”

“Never mind. Did you at least look at the clue?”

“Clue?”

“On the icing. I drew it on with icing.”

“Betty, you can’t even draw with a pencil. Look, it was on my table on top of my notes, I thought you left me a sweet birthday surprise.”

“It was a surprise. A treasure hunt surprise.”

“By the way it was a tad too sweet.”

“You are literally clueless.”

“Wha – hello? Betty, you there? Hello?”

100 words

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Sandra for this week’s prompt.

Click the blue frog to add your flash fiction and read what others have written.

get the InLinkz code

I’ve joined in a bit late this week. But better late than never.

I’m in the middle of a glorious drug withdrawal. Prescription drugs. All legal – but no less debilitating than if I was a recovering heroin junkie. On the bright side, it means autoimmune disease is under control with less medication.

Back on the dark side, it means my sarcasm is at dangerously high levels.

Chasing Destiny

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

“If you come back now, Mordow will forgive everything.” Samson called to her, his subordinates blocking the alley entrance behind him.

Reya’s heart squeezed at the sight of him. “You don’t know who they really are. Come with me, Sam.”

She thought she saw a flash in his eyes. Of love. “I’m not a traitor.”

“Your choice.” She scrambled over the slippery wall, landing in the piazza, crowded with tourists braving the rain. A sea of umbrellas spilled before her. She ran to the thickest part and looked back to see Samson standing on top of the wall. Searching hopelessly.

100 words

Trying to squeeze in my flash fiction for this week. Hope you all enjoy it. My story reflects my enduring search for Truth and Love. Which to me are the same thing. Truth exists despite lies, denial. So does Love. More than that, I’m learning that love shines a light on the truth. 

Thanks to Dale Rogerson for this week’s prompt. Such an awesome image, that I was struck with writer’s block for once. 

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields where the challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less.

Looks like we’re in Europe this week for my story. I experienced those crowded piazzas on a solo trip to Italy a few years ago. Awesome vibe. Amazing sights.

20150731_103715
A woman I met, took this photo of me in front of Basilica Di San Marco (Saint Mark’s Cathedral).

get the InLinkz code

 

 

Last day of school

PHOTO PROMPT © Gah Learner

Mishka pulled the curtain aside, hoping to see a window. Her heart sank when she saw it was boarded up shut with wooden planks. Her breath came in sobs, heart thudding faster in her chest. Was her mother looking for her? Thoughts of her mother brought fresh tears.

A woman entered the room. She wasn’t in the car when those men pulled her into it on her way to school. Hope rose like a red balloon in her chest.

“Please ma’am. I want to go to my mommy.”

She eyed her up and down. And shut the door.

98 words

Not one of my favourite stories, but only because of the topic. This was extremely difficult to write. Usually I have no issues connecting with my dark side to conjure up all sorts of evil and crime. But to try to empathise with a child, kidnapped from her safe world, not knowing what will happen to her, or if she’ll see her family, friends and school again, was heart-breaking for me.

Child trafficking is on the rise. At ridiculous levels. I find it intolerable that elected governments are so quick to initiate changes to taxes, fuel prices, land appropriation or other laws that line their pockets. But horrendously slow to put a stop to crime. Rather it feels as if they create a safe haven for such syndicates to operate in. I can bet anything, that due to the rapid increase in child trafficking, it points to politicians or other high-level officials lining their pockets from this modern day slavery.

In South Africa, children cannot walk to school without running a high risk of being kidnapped and disappearing into thin air. They’re taking children from outside the school gates. Last week, they smashed the rear window of a car, to try to steal a baby from his car seat. This is the level of desperation and enticingly lucrative nature of child trafficking. Luckily, the mother managed to drive away and they failed to unbuckle him in time.

The culprits should be given a life sentence or the death penalty. A child kidnapped and sold into slavery has had her life taken from her.

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the blue frog icon to read more flash fiction.

get the InLinkz code

First impressions

PHOTO PROMPT © Nathan Sowers (courtesy of Dawn M. Miller)

 

Ruby Johnson hung the mirror near the front door. A special mirror that showed man’s true nature. But only on the first reflection. After that it showed up meaningless different colours like a mood ring.

Her husband’s image had glowed a brilliant white. So she married him. Her friend Nina, a dull purplish-gray. That friendship didn’t last. Now its latest revelation perplexed her.

Her son, who had till now been too short to be reflected in the mirror, turned it to a chalky black speckled with red. She did what any mother would do. She smashed the mirror to smithereens.

100 words

“Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who is the fairest of us all?” What an awesome image this week. Thanks to Nathan Sowers courtesy of Dawn Miller.

I wish I had this mirror. Wonder if it would make navigating through life easier? Unless it tells you a truth you’d rather not believe in.

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less.

Click the blue frog icon for more flash fiction or to add your own.


get the InLinkz code

 

One thousand and one lights

PHOTO PROMPT © Carla Bicomong

 

The last thing Jinaka told me before the golden blade of the demon warrior’s sword plunged into his back, piercing through his abdomen, was to take the map to the city of Kunto.

Before I could catch him, he had thrust the bag and its sacred contents into my outstretched hands.

I ran, cowardly and guiltily. I looked back over my shoulder just as the demon towered over Jinaka, sword raised high. After fifteen years, my mentor was gone and independence weighed heavily on me.

Ahead the first lantern shimmered. One thousand more lit the way to Kunto.

98 words

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Carla Bicomong for this week’s shimmering prompt. Click the blue frog icon to read more flash fiction.

 

*** For some reason the comments were turned off on this post. Which I have now turned back on. 🙂

get the InLinkz code

Song of Zulaikha

I turned to God to escape you.
To cure what I perceived was an illness of my heart
And in that turning to God
I saw your name
Surrounded by praises of His name
In a faithful song of fate and destiny
And what I thought was an escape,
Became an exit from a door of my mind
Into a spiritual realm of my heart,
And His heart
Deeply entangled with you.
The three of us entwined in a heartaching love
So painful that I broke.
And continue to break
In waves of pain and joy
Causing me to question who am I
And where do I truly belong

I kept company with Rumi, Shams and Al-Ghazzali
But still it brought me back to you
Through Him

Just like Shams heard Rumi’s name,
So I saw your name attached to His.
Shams understood and followed
Whereas I followed but do not understand

All I know is I am forever changed
Stripped bare to my soul
And all I see is this longing for you
That is entwined with Him

There is no escape
For if I turn to God in utterance of faith
I see you too

*****

Based on stories of divine love popularised by Rumi and Shams. And the lesser known legend of Zulaikha, the King’s wife, who fell hopelessly in love with the Prophet Yusuf. The legend has it that her love for Yusuf led her to a more divine love for God. And that her love for Yusuf was a veil that hid the divine love

Image Source: PinImg

Unrequited love

PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior

 

Amarah tore her eyes away from David’s face. Focus! She shook fantasy images out of her head. Under the lamplight they studied the crime scene photo’s for the hundredth time.

“We’re missing something.” David pondered.

Reciprocation.

“The victim was alone. Husband’s alibi is watertight.”

“From all those tissues and drinks, it looks like she was upset.”

“We know they argued.”

“Yeah, still..” Amarah stared at the photo. Her intuition poked at something. She picked up the photo of the body. No lipstick. “There’s lipstick on some of those cigarette butts.”

“So?”

“Another woman was there that night. An unidentified woman.”

100 words

 

Wowee! I struggled with this week’s prompt. Wrote one story, deleted the whole thing. After repetitive attempts, this is the final piece. If it’s not up to scratch, I may have over-thought everything. What an awesome prompt, (courtesy of Yvette Prior) it really conjured up so many possibilities that it was difficult to settle on just one.

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less.

 

 

get the InLinkz code

Ghosts of my creative past

Found my old teen scrapbook, in which I wrote prose and drew pictures, as a pastime. This is seventeen years old! Wrote that at a time when ironically, I had given up on love. (Sad at such a young age). One could dream anyway, right?  The poem in the middle reads:

“When the warming arms of the 

Misty morning sun

Gently stretch into the

Mother-of-pearl,

I’ll wake up to you.

Man, I was a sucker for romance. But life changes that along the way.

Along with my scrapbook, were my sketchbooks. From at least thirteen years ago. I used to draw female forms a lot. Faces. Hands. Then tried male forms, one of which was sketching Enrique from a cd cover. Back when I used to be a fan of his. Another thing that changed along the way to the present moment. Not so much a fan anymore.

There’s even an attempt at charcoal, long since abandoned.

I haven’t drawn in years. SO I really enjoyed finding these again. What makes it even more poignant, is that lately I’ve been feeling lost. And these took me right back to a place I thought I had long forgotten.

Do you still have your childhood or teen scrapbooks, sketchbooks, stories?

20180812_170116.jpg
Model from a magazine. Can’t remember the name.
20180812_165252.jpg
Fantasy mermaid
20180812_170132-1.jpg
Attempt at charcoal
20180812_165222-1.jpg
Enrique Iglesias
wp-1534090584598.jpg
Faithful woman