I arrived in Cebu island, nursing depression and a gin-and-tonic. Through the airplane window, the island was ablaze with city lights.
On the first day, I met Imelda as I struggled to navigate my way through the city’s transport network of Jeepneys.
Imelda. Beautiful and young. She survived by pickpocketing.
We spent many days exploring the island together. Soon the days stretched into warm passionate nights.
One day, I awoke to find her gone. I had been expecting it really. Just, my heart ached at the emptiness when I realised she stole not only my wallet but my heart, too.
So happy to have my photo for this week’s prompt! I took this photo as I wandered Cebu City in the Phillipines at night. Jeepneys are commonly used as cheap transport. These vehicles are converted to seat passengers along the walls of the van instead of in rows. And you simply jump on or off at the back. Hitching a ride in one is a must if you are a tourist.
Hope you enjoyed this story!
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 others’.
“I can’t believe you bought this. Are you trying to sink us?”
There was a time when she used to love everything I did.
“It’s seen better days.” Things have not been the same between us since…. “I’m trying to move us forward.”
“Okay, I get it. Roller shutter doors are not conventional coffee shop decor. But that’s what will be so great about it. Think industrial. Like an upmarket New York loft. Nothing a coat of paint won’t fix.
“Some things can’t just be covered up and forgotten about, Elliot. Some things can’t be fixed. ”
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the blue frog to submit your flash fiction, and read others’.
Shawn couldn’t remember what he walked into the living room for. Old age was really messing with him. He remembered he was on the phone with Johnny… Oh yes! Now he remembered! Johnny wanted some file. Where did he say it was again? Something about a tabletop.
There it is on the dining table! He grabbed the file and when Johnny’s driver arrived, dutifully handed it over.
Fifteen minutes later Johnny called again, laughing so hard he could barely get the words out. “Pa, I meant a copy of the file on the desktop computer.”
Honestly, Johnny should have known better.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the blue frog to submit your flash fiction and read others’. I struggled with this prompt, even though it is my own. Blame it on writer’s block 🙂
Pictures are worth a thousand words, thought Henry. Clearly, a thousand words are not enough.
The funeral was just as his mother would have liked it. Simple.
He leafed through her photo album. Many of him and his siblings as children. Some of his parents, laughing, smiling. Caught unawares. Of course, he didn’t find what he was looking for. There were none of her first family. The husband and autistic child she abandoned.
He committed to finding his half-brother. Maybe she couldn’t handle it. He certainly wanted to try. Especially now that his own daughter had received the same diagnosis.
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 to read others’.
The article stated it was the worst drought in decades, quoting researcher-facts and interspersed with images of wildlife writhing on cracked mud. The last time Lake Ngami dried up was in the eighties.
The sun burned the backs of Kgosi and his men as they dug a hole, deep and wide enough, for underground water to seep into it. A man-made water hole. It wouldn’t last long. Wild animals would travel far in search of water. Next Saturday they would dig another one a few kilometers east of this hole.
Kgosi hoped the rains would come soon.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less, click the frog to share your flash fiction and read what others have written.
Fresh water will one day be the wealth of future nations.
The call came in the dark hours of the morning. Doctor Worthington drove in the pre-dawn winter mist to the abandoned train station.
He found Matthew waiting for him, grumbling as he looked about nervously, “Hurry, we don’t have much time.”
“Sorry. Came as soon as you called.” He tried to match Matthew’s brisk pace as they walked to a discarded carriage. They pried open the rusty doors. Inside, a corpse laid flaccidly on black plastic sheets on the floor. It still looked pink-fresh. Hours old maybe.
“You have ten minutes, doctor. Harvest everything.”
Talk about a side-hustle for this doctor!
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the frog to submit your story.
Ameeruddin didn’t like movies. Newspapers, religious and political chatter entertained him enough. For Aisha, wash day blues took on a jealousy-fueled meaning when she discovered the ticket stubs in his jean’s pocket. Double tickets.
At dinner she suggested they go to watch the very same movie. He declined, feigning distinterest in superhero nonsense. “Besides, I’d rather take you to a romantic dinner at The Moghul.”
She smiled. Received his kiss. And later, cocooned in his post-coital embrace, willingly cast aside the mysterious movie companion in favour of hope and affection that was far easier for her tired heart to grasp.
Written for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the inspiring Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Submit to the link below and join this fun community of writers.