Bells chimed in the hallway. Doris waited a few seconds to give the bell-ringer time to leave. Or change their mind. Then she went downstairs, taking care with each step not to make a noise.
Doris heard the soft rustling of wool against cardboard. That alone told her she’d find a note with the baby that was gently waving limbs about, upsetting the carefully wrapped blankets. A mother’s last act of love in her desperation: “Please take care of my baby. His name is Edwin.”
It was seldom longer than that. A wet spot stained the note – tearful kiss.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less. Click the frog to submit your flash fiction and join the Fictioneers!
He noticed the man randomly opening books and scribbling inside them.
He detached from his nook behind the cash register and made a beeline for the aged vandal. Well, as much of a beeline as one could make weaving in between book aisles. “Hey you! Stop that at once! Or… I’ll call the police!” Would the police actually come, he wondered.
The man flashed a mischievous smile and darted out of the store. Someone said, “Was that Ben Khalid, the famous author?” Plucking a book from the shelf, he opened it to reveal the unmistakable autograph of the eccentric author.
This is like a flash fiction version of a meme.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less, and click the frog to submit your flash fiction. Join our group of tea-drinking (coffee for me please) cat-loving group of writers!
It was pinched between a bank statement and a courier bill. Amy didn’t know why she noticed the envelope. She had been looking for a pen. Except she did notice it. When she shouldn’t have. Shouldn’t even be reaching for it and reading the sender’s address as she was now – attorneys. She googled them. Specialising indivorce. The walls of her dad’s office spun around her, making her feel woozy like the time she first smoked weed. Except that was way better. She tore it up and threw it in the bin. Hoping, that was the end of that.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the frog to submit your flash fiction and connect with other writers there too!
“I’m pretty sure it is missing some words.” Jaleel scratched his head.
“Kind of a funny place to put a sign.” Jabu kicked at the grainy dirt at his bare feet. “You think Big Jack put it there?” He asked Jaleel. They eyed the shack at the edge of the bare patch of land where they had spent hours catching lizards and playing cricket. Until Big Jack moved in.
A skinny, weather-beaten man leaped out from his new dwelling and the children scattered as he yelled after them, “Get outta here! Can’t you read the sign? Be Gone!”
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the frog to submit your flash fiction and read what other’s have written too!
I pictured this being the meet-cute between two young boys and a homeless man with whom they form a friendship later in their story.
PS I arrived late to the party and have joined Instagram! If you’re on it too, then find me @fatimafakierwrites and let’s connect and troll each other 😉
They were in full bloom now. Red. Pink. White. Yellow roses had been Anna-May’s favourite. A bouquet of fresh buttery roses always cheered her up. Especially after they argued. Shame flushed through him as he remembered. Raised fists. Hurt and anger. Sobering shame. She always forgave him. Until that day her skull cracked. He had wiped the kitchen wall clean of her blood and his tears and got the shovel from her garden shed. He glanced at the ground beneath the rose bushes. Now Anna-May would always have her yellow roses near her. And she would always be his.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The Challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less. Submit your flash fiction to the frog link below and read what other’s have written too. Thanks to Sarah Potter for her photo prompt contribution.
He glimpsed the man emerging from the alley. That insufferable man. The last time he endured his company he was assaulted with tales of time travel. Utter nonsense. His stash of cocaine had mysteriously disappeared too. Intolerable!
It was too late to get away, the man was upon him.
“Well, would you look at this? Sherlock Holmes! Is that you?! Boy, am I glad to see you.” said the approaching man.
“Emmet.” Holmes nodded curtly. “Back from 1985, I presume.”
“Not quite. Try 2020. I’ll tell you all about it over a finger of whisky. What do you say?”
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the frog to JOIN and submit your flash fiction and read what others have written.
I am so glad to be back and writing flash fiction after such a long while. Thanks to C E Ayr for this wonderful photo. I swear I saw this exact same side street in London years ago, but then again there must be hundreds of them.
Can you believe I only watched Back to The Future this year for the first time? I love movies, but somehow couldn’t get into this story. Until lockdowns became a thing and we all started trying new activities / hobbies.
Hope you enjoyed this encounter of two unique characters. I would love to listen in on this conversation, wouldn’t you?
Their fins broke the water’s surface before dipping beneath the waves. Jasmine squealed and paddled belly-down on her surfboard towards them. Before they disappeared she counted at least four dolphins. Ben better get this shot right.
Ben noticed Jasmine heading for the pod of dolphins, watching her in the phone camera’s view. He dared not disappoint her this time. Where did the dolphins go?
A large dorsal fin knifed through the water not far from Jasmine, exciting Ben. Then his heart stopped. The phone slipped from his hands and he shouted at the top of his lungs.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by author Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Submit your flash fiction by clicking on the frog link below. And read other awesome flash fiction.
“Shh! Be quiet. And no you can’t play in the park. Wait here.”
Mama pushed me gently backwards into the bushes. “Remember -“
“I know, I know. Don’t go anywhere.”
I watched her figure ripple in and out of the shadows thrown by the park lights. Another figure joined her. A man. A different one than the other night. Together, they disappeared behind the restrooms.
Five-year-old me knew Mama wouldn’t be long. I jumped out of the bushes and watched the cars honking on the street. The lamp-lit windows floated in the tall buildings.
I didn’t feel so alone anymore.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the frog to submit your flash fiction and read other stories too.
Egg yolk dripped down the Range Rover’s windscreen. Sweat dripped down the side of Joanna’s face. Turned out hurling eggs was tiring. Would the sight of his egg-covered car be enough to make Nick’s blood boil? A part of her felt bad. But, Nick should know his cheating days are over.
Joanna knew she could make him happier than that cow ever did. His indecisiveness drove her mad. That’s why she had to help him decide. Leave your wife, Nick. Choose me. I told you she was crazy, Nick. See what she did to your car?
Joanna threw another egg.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the frog to submit your flash fiction and read what others’ have written.
“You’re vegetarian?” Stefan asked. Cool, handsome, and funny, Stefan was her longtime crush. Safiya agreed on a date even though she knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. It couldn’t. Could it?
“Oh, no!” she giggled. “It’s just that the food here isn’t halal. So… vegetarian options, you know.”
“Oh Christ, I didn’t even think of that!”
He may have used Jesus name in vain, but she was pretty sure he was Jewish. She imagined Mama’s despairing disapproval, “Why Saffa? Why?”
Stefan winked and said, “Next time, you choose the restaurant.”
Next time?! Safiya’s heart soared.
I hope you enjoyed this little scene out of the romantic comedy script that I’ll never write.
I didn’t get to everyone’s posts the last time, because I was busy moving house. Let’s just say, I never want to move house again anytime soon. I hope to catch up on posts and comments and do better this week!
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the frog to submit your flash fiction and to read others’.