The human body is capable of amazing things. Contortion is one. Bending with extreme flexibility. Just like Jimmy was now, crumpled into a lobster trap. Except that John had to break Jimmy’s legs at the knees to get it to fit. His face was blank and slack. Nothing left of the shock that twisted his features looking down the barrel of John’s gun. Six bullets fired into his chest.
Now, pushing the trap off the boat into the water, John felt nothing of the cold shock that seeped into him when he found out Jimmy had betrayed him.
Brought back an old character from one of last year’s flash fiction, John the Baptist. Organised crime boss and ruthless with his enemies.
Click the icon to read more flash fiction by other amazing writers. It is amazing to see the different stories and genre’s that an image can prompt. I’ll be impressed if this image courtesy of Liz Young inspires any romance stories!
Her dress was a cornflour blue, the same colour as her eyes. The latest fashion in a princess line style, puffed sleeves and lace trim. Now half of it was covered in grime from the cramped dungeon she woke up in after the ball. Nine days ago. Once a day a meal was shoved through a flap in the door. Then the music would play. Was it Mozart or Bach? Drifting down to her dungeon, through the floors and the walls from somewhere above where her captor waited. If only she knew what they were waiting for.
What an inspiring picture of musical instruments for this week’s prompt, courtesy of Rochelle. Took me to a dark place in 19th century England it seems. Admittedly not my best. But hope you enjoyed it anyway.
As much as Madame Christie enjoyed Venice she was anxious to get going. “Whatever is the holdup, Christo?” she snapped at the receptionist.
“I am sorry Signora Christie, but we cannot check you out.”
“Orders from Investigatore Alfonsi.” Christo pointed at a gentleman in uniform, who spoke above the hum of agitated guests gathering in the lobby.
“Listen closely everybody! Last night a couple was murdered in their beds. Nobody is allowed to leave without being interviewed.”
He twirled the ends of his moustache. Madame Christie knew she had the perfect character for her next series of novels.
Unfortunately I have not been able to write for some time due to many upsets in seemingly every area of life. I’m keen to think of this phase as transformation and not the mess that it is. To create, one must first destroy. Applies to many things beyond cooking and other creative pursuits.
SO when I sat down to write this week’s flash fiction, I was pleasantly surprised to see my photo as the prompt. I suspect it was our group leader, Rochelle’s way of sending a smoke signal my way to get back to writing!
Can’t wait to read everyone’s flash fiction.
This was written for Friday Fictioneers, a weekly challenge to write a story in 100 words or less. Hosted by leading author, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
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Flux23 dropped to her knees, panting on the rooftop of the skyscraper. In seconds she morphed from a suit-wearing white male into herself. Brown hair and pale skin. A blue scaly patch behind her ear the only tell-tale sign of what she was.
The city lights blurred in front of her. She felt woozy. That little girl caught her unawares, staring at her, then at her father lying in a pool of blood. She threw the gun into an air vent. They’ll catch up to her. She would run anyway. Her life as an assassin for Nation444 was over.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words of less. Thanks to Jill Wisoff for this week’s prompt!
Every week I intend to write comedy, and everything but comedy finds its way onto the post. This week, it is sci-fi. Shapeshifters. Loosely based on the X-men character, Mystique.
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He gazed at the delicate line of her neck, tracing with his eyes along her collar-bone.
“Josh, are you listening?” Carrie cocked her head to one side, blue eyes sparkling, blonde hair flowing with the breeze.
“Huh? What were you saying?” He slipped his hand into his pocket.
“So you always come here?” she looked at the bubbling creek, and bare trees.
“It’s better in the spring.” He tried not to think of the other women.
She shivered. “It’s cold.”
He drew a blade from his pocket. Only the trees heard her screams, but they would never tell.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Karen Rawson for this week’s prompt which inspired me to write my thriller-date-gone-horribly-wrong flash fiction.
Heavy chains clanked about, swinging from rusty metal. Remnants of a contraption that once delighted every kid in town. Soon to be scrap metal.
Voices echoed in Yusuf’s mind from a time long gone.
“Dont be a chicken!” Reza had taunted him. Yusuf was game and had sprinted through the crowds towards it.
They didn’t know each other but were like best friends that day. Reza’s family had driven down from the north for the carnival.
As they dismantled the old machine Yusuf thought that had they remained friends they would have gotten into all sorts of trouble together.
I wrote this while in transit in Hong Kong international airport. Not my usual FF writing spot.. so I struggled a bit with this prompt. But I missed last week due to travelling and didn’t want to repeat that. Took me several rewrites though I blame typing on the phone, and airport announcements for this particular struggle. 😉
The metal contraption in the prompt reminded me of carnival rides and I have friendship on my mind lately. So that’s where my mood took me.
Written for Fiday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. Where the challenge is to write a full story in 100 words or less.
He shut the closet door and sank into the darkness. Mark clasped his hands over his ears to silence the buzzing. But he was helpless against the visions that replayed in his mind.
Blood. On a single gold hoop earring. Matted brown hair. He tasted bile in the back of his throat.
Three days later his wife’s body was found near the beach and he was arrested. The detective presented the evidence bag containing the stained earring they found in his car. Nausea enveloped him as he tried to remember. He had kissed her goodnight. But after that – nothing.
I struggled with this image. Everytime I tried to think of something, all I could see was crinoline… Probably because I had read Rochelle’s post first.
So I went back to my thriller roots, and saw jewellery instead in those suspended circular artwork things. I’m not sure if my main MC is guilty or not. Looking forward to seeing your thoughts in the comments. Thank you, Dale Rogerson, my friend, for this week’s image!
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less. Click the blue frog icon to read more flash fiction from other super cool writers.
She leaned back in the chair, the cold wrought iron pressing into her back. Through her grief a smile rose to her mouth. Countless Sunday lunches, warm garlic breads and ice cold lemonades. She could almost hear the chatter, the laughter ringing around the table. Young and old.
A hand touched her shoulder, she didn’t have to look to know it was her brother, Barry.
“C’mon sis, I’ll make you some tea. Let’s go inside.”
She stood up and took one last look at the chair where Dad always sat. Sunday lunch would not be the same without him.
Hooray! My picture was chosen for this week’s flash fiction, and I couldn’t be more thrilled! Thank you, group leader, Rochelle!!!!I took this picture while on holiday, and the lodge I was staying at had a sombre air about it. Later I heard from hotel the hotel staff that the father of the family-run business had just passed away. So naturally their story came to mind.
I apologise for not commenting much on last week’s flash fiction. Life has thrown me major life changes which has given me the most confusing mix of incredible joy and sadness at the same time. I promise to double my efforts this week and read as many of this week’s posts as I can.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by the most talented artist and writer, Rochelle Wiesoff-Fields. The challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less. Click the blue frog icon to read more awesome flash fiction by more great writers. Make coffee, sit back and enjoy 30 second stories.
This was his place. A sanctum of peace, serenity and love like no other. On top of a mountain overlooking the fields. Cloudless days allowed the horizon to kiss the earth. Today, the clouds rolled at his feet below the mountain peak. Glowing pink and yellow. He extended one foot to dip into it when a loud banging noise stopped him.
His eyes flew open. Noddy, his labrador jumped excitedly towards him and licked his face. Behind him tottered his toddler, squealing and snatching at the dog’s wagging tail.
He sighed. Five minutes of meditation would have to do.
Hope you enjoyed this attempt at flash fiction humour. Those with small children and hyperactive pets suffering from separation anxiety may relate to this somewhat.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle-Wiesoff Fields. The challenge is to write a full story in 100 words or less.
Click the frog to read more flash fiction from other great writers.