The curious case of the cinnamon sticks

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

 

Nancy loved pottering about with Mum. Today they were planting flowers. Or they would once Mum found her garden tools.

“It’s as if they crawl off on their own.” she muttered to herself digging through piles of junk in their garden shed.

“Maybe the gnomes came to borrow them.” mused Nancy.

Mum mumbled something about gnomes and arses.

Cinnamon sticks poked out off one shelf, catching Nancy’s eye.

“See! The gnomes replace what they borrow with cinnamon sticks.”

“Flip! so this is where I stuffed these bloody cinnamon sticks. Maybe I should check the spice cupboard for my garden tools.”

100 words

My very first instinct was to write some grisly murder / thriller. Images of leaves, dried twigs and wintry scenes has this effect on me. I pushed myself to find something different, stretch my creative muscles a bit. Get the rusty cogwheels turning. There’s a bundle of twigs on the makeshift shelving that look like cinnamon sticks. (Left on image). And I went with that!

Hope you enjoy the break from my dark side. Anyone who is a busy parent juggling work (housework or career or both), fitness habits, hobbies, child-rearing will know that feeling of confusion upon discovering misplaced items. And I doubt that Mum will find her tools in the spice cupboard. That would be too easy.

Write a story in 100 words or less, and join Friday Fictioneers. Hosted by our friend Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Click the icon to read more flash fiction in different genres.

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Like Father, Like Son

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

 

“You’re just like your father”, remarked Robert lazily.

Marcus raised an eyebrow, “He’s your father too.” Then picked up the whiskey canister, “And no I am not.”

“I have the good fortune of having fallen very far from the tree.”

“Oh shut up!”

“See that’s just what Father says to me.”

“For the last time, I am not going on some reckless, un-planned, crazy-as-shit adventure of yours to the Galapagos islands!”

“Comfort zones. Careless mediocrity. Whiskey… like father, like son.”

Marcus held the whiskey canister above his glass. Cautiously sat it back on the table. “When do we leave?”

99 words

 Something about the house and the setting sun made me think of family and adventures. And I so much wanted to experiment with humour and dialogue today. Hope you enjoy this!

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

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Unholy racket

PHOTO PROMPT © Björn Rudberg

 

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.

99 words

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.

 

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