PHOTO PROMPT © What’s His Name
Abdul stared at the smartphone. Cold fear gripped his heart. It seemed Karima left an audio diary on her phone. The police wouldn’t help him if they heard this.
He pressed play again, “Frankfurt. That’s where I’ll go. Simply pointed to a place on the map, blindfolded. That’s how much I don’t care anymore. Life is dreary here. My soul longs for adventure.”
His sister’s voice pulled at his heart through the mounting fear. He had to find her. Human trafficking was on the rise. Girls disappeared every week.
Karima was always reckless, but she’d never leave without saying goodbye.
Had a busy few weeks at work handling crisis after crisis, and kept me away from writing and Friday Fictioneers. But I’ve clawed my way back and I’m glad to be here this week!
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. The challenge is to write a full stroy in 100 words or less.
Read more flash ficion here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Danny Bowman
“Why can’t I go to my old school?” I sobbed.
“Because we live here now, Mitch, and your old school is hundreds of miles away.” Dad replied.
Dad promised that I would love the new city, the new house and my new school. I didn’t trust the promises adults made. I used to believe everything they said. You’re my little boy, Mitch. I’ll always be right here with you. That’s what mom used to tell me. Then she left and I never saw her again.
Dad calls her a nasty cyst. Whatever that is. I just miss her.
**nasty cyst = narcissist (Of course, Mitch doesn’t know what a narcissist is and hears something different 🙂 )
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle, where the challenge is to write a complete story in 100 words or less.
I had trouble accessing the link last week (don’t know why) and so if you haven’t yet read my FF post from last week, you may read it here: Ransom.
Click here to read more flash fiction.
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The sun slid behind the clouds, then slid right back out as if dancing a tango with various admirers. My heart joined in the merriment and jiggled too.
In a few minutes I would meet him. Mr Greaves. I closed my eyes and willed it to be good news. All these years of wondering, questioning my existence could end today.
Mr Greaves beckoned me to enter his office. “I’m sorry, Alana. Your parents died three years ago.”
His next words pulled me back from the edge of a black abyss, “But you have a brother.”
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle, a flash fiction challenge to write a story in 100 words or less. Click the frog to read more flash fiction.