Meet me in the land of dreams

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

We sat in the gardens of an ancient ruins, side by side. Laughing with the ghost of my mother. She looked young like me, but felt older.  Behind us the shrubbery crawled over an abandoned castle, most of it gone. What stood was crumbling.  Above us thick green canopies shaded us.

“When will we meet again?” I asked her, taking note how black her hair was, without the strands of grey that sprouted when she was still with us.

She offered me only a knowing smile as her answer.

Of course. I wasn’t permitted to the knowledge of the unseen.

100 words

My mother passed away two years ago. Yet I never feel as if she is gone. I still feel her overbearing, sometimes annoying, presence with me. (This was really how our relationship was! No angelic talk here 🙂 )

And when I dream of her, it feels as if I’m really seeing her, and in the dream I’m aware she has passed on.

There have been many dreams of her. The year she died, she came into one of my dreams on the eve of my birthday and I hugged her in delight, knowing she was not with us.

The above story is part of one of the dreams I had of her, where there was an abandoned castle behind us.

Proudly written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by our leading writer, Rochelle Wiesoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less! Click the frog icon to read more flash fiction by other awesome writers.

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Fine lines of the heart

PHOTO PROMPT © Marie Gail Stratford


Zahra leaned towards the mirror, dabbing eye cream around her eyes hoping to see those dreaded fine lines vanish. She turned her face in the dim light, trying to catch a glimpse of the smooth-faced beauty that once won her pageant titles.

Her husband appeared behind her reflection. “Still as beautiful as ever!”

She smiled softly. She never noticed just how grey his hair had become. Were those wrinkles on his face from years of laughter, or from sadness? Guilt pinched her heart.

She took his face in her hands and planted a kiss on his eager lips.

98 words

The image made me think of a flower that has lost its bloom, and that led to thoughts of ageing beauties. Zahra, in arabic, means flower.

This story was in part inspired by a poem I once read about an ageing couple, (the title and poet eludes me, sorry). The husband looked at the lines on his wife’s face and found beauty in them, because they were borne from the history of their lives together.

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by, Rochelle Wiesoff-Fields. The challenge is to write a full story in 100 words or less. Click the blue frog to read more flash fiction from other writers.

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Innocence on snow

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson


“What’s your favourite animal?” Clifford blew into his gloved hands and rubbed them together. He glanced at his step-daughter who skipped and hopped beside him. Each time her boots kicked up snow, she giggled. And something warm kindled inside him. He hoped she was warm enough.

“That’s easy. Unicorns.” She answered without skipping a beat.

“Unicorns? Izzy, they’re not real.” He bit his lip.

She stopped and bent to draw in the snow. “How do you know?”

“Well, I’ve never seen one.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re not there.” A snowball hit him square in the face and Izzy skipped away, laughing.

100 words

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by talented author and artist, Rochelle. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the blue frog to read more flash fiction from other writers.


Thanks to Dale Rogerson for providing this week’s image prompt. Cosy and warm, despite the obvious cold weather. Personally, I hope Izzy always believes in the magic of unicorns.


Cold tea and cigarettes



Viggo awoke to the aroma of spiced tea. Smiling sleepily, he reached across the bed towards her but his hand fell on worn sheets.

He bolted upright. The boat lulled gently in the tide.

A single cup of tea sat on the counter by the sink. And a packet of his favourite cigarettes.

Lighting one he blew grey smoke around his tiny cabin. He loosed a slow sad chuckle. She was saying goodbye in the best way she knew how. Tempest, his beautiful gypsy woman of never-ending horizons was gone.

He sipped his tea. Cold from waiting too long.

99 words

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by leader Rochelle. The challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less.

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A friend in need


PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Bindi split the wood with a satisfying crack. Sarah always asked her why she did men’s work. Sarah did nothing but sit pretty. And since she had come to her homeless and in need, Bindi had come to hate her backstabbing, ungrateful ways.

“Have you seen Sarah anywhere?” Her husband Greg appeared unexpectedly. Wouldn’t you like to know? she thought.

Gazing off into the forest bordering their farm, she shrugged. “Probably ran away again.”

A smear of blood near the axe handle caught her eye.

“We ought to get a new axe. This one has seen its last.”

99 words

This serene picture of chopped wood discs, (thanks to Rochelle for this week’s image) inspired me back to thrillers. Guess where Bindi hid Sarah’s body?

Written for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle where the challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less.

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The Aftermath


PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

“I feel sad.” said Afshan.

Aabid knew, but encouraged his daughter to talk, “Oh, why do you feel sad?”
He flung a piece of rubble the size of a football to the side. His arms trembled. The bombs struck in darkness. That was two weeks and three burials ago. Memories of his wife and two children clutched at his heart.

“Everything is gone. Ruined.” Such big words for a little girl, he thought sadly.

“Yes.” Grief threatened him as he was violently confronted by the ruins of his former life. “All we can do is look ahead. Start over.”

99 words

Written for Friday Fictioneers where the challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less. Hosted by leading flash fictioneer, Rochelle.

Thanks to Sandra Cook for providing this week’s photo prompt.

Things can change so quickly in life. Enjoy the present moment, and surrender to whatever it holds for you. A good attitude goes a long way. I tried to depict this in this week’s flash fiction, with Aabid surrendering to his loss and still looking ahead to whatever Life brings his way. I struggled with the title on this one.. The Aftermath was the best that came to mind…

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Veiled hearts

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot


The first time their eyes met a deafening rip tore through her head

Mistaking it for her broken heart’s pieces cracking once again

She turned her gaze away, not wanting to shatter what took so long to mend

But something in his hazel eyes called to her through past lies

She dared another sideways glance a strange rising courage at the end

Pushed her into the unknown, where hopes renew and dreams begin

The second time their eyes met she did not flinch when the ripping sounded

A hazel gaze pierced through flimsy veils wrapping tight around the wounded

99 words

I read Erin Hanson’s poetry recently and was just so ultra inspired that I simply had to attempt my own. Last time I was inspired to pen rhythmic verse was in high school. So forgive me if it’s not perfect. The 100 word limit was quite challenging this time!

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by novelist and artist, Rochelle. The challenge is to write a full story in 100 words or less.

Click here to read more flash fiction from other great writers.


Here is one of Erin’s poems. She is a talented young woman in her early twenties, touching hearts and moving souls since her teens with her magical prose.


Love Mules

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

When security pulled me out of the line, moments before boarding my flight back home, I knew it was over. In a separate room, I watched as they opened my luggage, went through its contents, and finally discovered the plastic bullets of cocaine hidden inside deodorant canisters. I didn’t even try to deny anything. All I could think of was my baby, Yolanda, probably sleeping next to her grandma’s bed now. I yearned to give her everything.

“You’re allowed only one call. So make sure you call someone who can help you, okay?” a security officer advised me.

98 words

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. Where the challenge is to write a story with 100 words or less.

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The Teacher


PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Black dust stained her fingers where they trailed along the charred remains of a school desk. Upturned chairs and tables, half a chalkboard dangling from one corner. She could almost hear the screams and the deafening silence that followed. Some dead, others injured, too weak to make a sound. Weak sunlight glinted off a shard of glass in the window, and seeped into her heart. Hope.

Outside, men shouted instructions to one another. Women wheelbarrowed in bricks. Rebuild. Moving on. Together.

82 words


I do not know if war will ever end. But I do know that love will never die, cannot be killed, cannot be maimed; Love survives.

My story this week is about the good that survives through the bad, that in fact realises its power through the evil that tries to smother it.


Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle, where we’re challenged to write flash fiction in 100 words or less. They say that the creating the best art, and writing included, is more about leaving out the unnecessary than about what you allow to appear on the page. Less is more.

Click the frog, or click here,  to read more incredible flash fiction or 30 second reads.