Copyright –Douglas M. MacIlroy
When he first entered his cabin up in the woods, the strange item caught him off guard. Not strange as in unknown, he was old not ancient, but strange as in not belonging to him. He could use a computer, even operate this laptop version too. Only he didn’t own a laptop. Even stranger still was the young woman who rose from her hiding place behind the kitchen island, hands in a surrender position at her shoulders.
She looked familiar. Then he remembered. Dusty. Hazy. Her face on the news, posters and milk cartons. Years ago. Missing.
“Dad?” she said.
Getting my flash fiction in just before the doors slide closed on this Friday Fictioneers train.
I don’t know how this guy didn’t know he had a daughter. It seems people have lied to him and a missing girl (on the run or kidnapped) comes to find him. Guess they’ll have a lot to work through! Once she proves she is his daughter, that is.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by the gracious Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Click the blue frog icon to submit your story or read what others have written.
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PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook
“I can’t believe you just ate it, Sheldon!” Betty sighed on the other end of the phone line.
“What else does one do with cupcakes?”
“Never mind. Did you at least look at the clue?”
“On the icing. I drew it on with icing.”
“Betty, you can’t even draw with a pencil. Look, it was on my table on top of my notes, I thought you left me a sweet birthday surprise.”
“It was a surprise. A treasure hunt surprise.”
“By the way it was a tad too sweet.”
“You are literally clueless.”
“Wha – hello? Betty, you there? Hello?”
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Write a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Sandra for this week’s prompt.
Click the blue frog to add your flash fiction and read what others have written.
get the InLinkz code
I’ve joined in a bit late this week. But better late than never.
I’m in the middle of a glorious drug withdrawal. Prescription drugs. All legal – but no less debilitating than if I was a recovering heroin junkie. On the bright side, it means autoimmune disease is under control with less medication.
Back on the dark side, it means my sarcasm is at dangerously high levels.