Tag: short stories

Beautifully ugly

Dress: £50 from Dorothy Perkins

Shoes: £18 from Next

Coat: £50 from River Island

Jewellery: £20 from New look

Perfume: Chanel No 5 (a gift from dad)

Total: £138

She walked through the door all poised and calm. Her name was Twin A. She asked how my day had been and wished me a lovely night. I held her coat as delicately as she had treated my position.

Dress: £50 from House of Frasier

Shoes: £20 from Next

Coat: £60 from M & S

Jewellery: £20 from New look

Perfume: Carolina Herrera (gift from dad)

Total: £150

She walked through the door all poised and calm. Her name was Twin B. She gave me her coat, and walked through to the other guests. I held her coat as impersonally as she treated me. 

It’s as ma said, “we’re all the same, the heart is all that makes us different. It don’t matter what you wear, or where you sleep, with a bit of cash you might find yourself a happy neighbour to professor Higgins.”

Written for Flash fiction for aspiring writers challenge. Hope it makes sense. Click on the link to read other stories and on this link to join in.

Eyes on the money.

Congratulations Andy, never doubted your abilities for minute,

WELCOME back to the team.

“I’m sure you didn’t, too busy celebrating my ‘unexpected’ professional demise, were you?

……..

Screeching tyres; there’s more than one way to skin a cat.

tltweek117

Written for three line tales challenge.

Host: Sonya.

Image: Alexandre Boucher

 

Fallen bridges.

“So, which do you think I should pick? You reckon she will like the yellow one?”

“Maybe.” Walking right past the vase without so much as a glance.

“Come on, you didn’t even look at it. What’s with you?”

“You know very well the answer to that question.”

“Why can’t you leave things well alone?”

“I would if you stopped dragging me into the middle. She doesn’t want these silly gifts, she wants you, her daughter back home.” 

“You know that’s not possible besides she has you.”

“Have it your way, do consider postage charges this time.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

I do apologise for my absence the last couple of months, life has been ….. anything but interesting.

For every comment not replied, for every like not acknowledged please bear no grudges for in a few days or so I shall hopefully explain myself properly.

This story is written for Friday fictioneers a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by the lovely Sarah Ann Hall, the task is to write a 100 words story inspired by it. Thanks Rochelle for hosting the challenge. Thank you for stopping by… do click on the link to read other stories.

 

Piercing the darkness

They ran fast as they could, the darkness suffocating every array of hope. Her steps became laboured, Molly’s wriggling wearing tiny on her tiny hip. 

They had only tonight or it was goodnight forever. Slowly her legs bowed to gravity, seeking to calm her baby, she sang her favourite lullaby as she embraced the inevitable.

Cosy, cosy, snug as a bunny

my precious Molly, honey suckle

rest on mummy’s bosom

as the night time worries fade away.

Springing upright, Agnes focused on the bathroom light as it pierced the darkness. 

Molly sighed.

No night time worries here.

Agnes relaxed.

Written for Friday fictioneers a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, the task is to write a 100 words story inspired by it. Thanks Rochelle for hosting the challenge. Thank you for stopping by… do click on the link to read other stories.

Curiosity kills the …..

Him: Prepare the meal as I have told you and at midnight sit beneath the rock and eat it. After a fortnight watch for the bountiful harvest.

Them: bow in awe while exiting the tent.

……….

Him: take a white chicken, a piece of white cloth and chalk at high noon to the rock. Write your enemy’s name on the rock cover it the white cloth, kill the chicken and spray its blood on the cloth. By evening your enemy shall be no more.

Me smiling: does that really work?

Him: stares unamused.

Me: just wandering how the rock does it?

Written for Friday fictioneers a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by the lovely CEAyr, the task is to write a 100 words story inspired by it. Thanks Rochelle for hosting the challenge. Thank you for stopping by… do click on the link to read other stories.

Tandem or sociable?

I like the tandem bike.

Two people in synch, well hopefully in synch enjoying the view around them, taking in the fresh air, exercising their muscles.

People think it slows you down, others expect it should double your speed.

And me?

Well I just say what’s the point of getting to the finish line with a corpse over your shoulder or a zombie in front?

Learn to enjoy the journey, I say to my daughter, but she’s having none of it.

She prefers the sociable bike.

she says side by side is better, each one sees the same thing, each one sees the other. No room for deception, each one pedals. No room for any misconceptions.

Better than one in front and one behind.

I smile for the journey is far and fear makes the heart forget that better a single room with open doors than a palace with guarded courts.

If you can’t trust them out of sight, or pardon their shortcomings perhaps it is safer to cycle alone.

In response to the writing challenge flash fiction for aspiring writers hosted by Priceless Joy click on the link to visit the blog. The photograph is from the lovely Dorothy (interesting photo can’t wait to see all the stories it inspires) and the challenge is to write a 100 – 150 words (+/- 25 words) story inspired by it. Do click on the link for other stories.

 

It’s not just the thought …..

There are fresh flowers sitting on the table, not really my favourite kinds but they will have to do for now.

Will I ever get them picked from the garden again?

The boxes are stacked to the roofs, I really don’t know where to start. I can’t find the strength to go forward right now. Everything just feels surreal.

The mantle is bare just like my arms.

Should I put the pictures up?

Are ghosts ever a good part of the present?

The flowers are actually lovely, they smell divine but I miss tiny hands handing them to me.

Written for Friday fictioneers a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by the lovely Dale Rogerson, the task is to write a 100 words story inspired by it. Thanks Rochelle for hosting the challenge. Thank you for stopping by… do click on the link to read other stories.

 

 

 

 

 

 

series of misfortunate events

“I think that boat is sinking.”

“No it’s not”

“Hmmm…. are you sure?”

“Well if it is, don’t you think the man sailing it would show some signs of distress? “

“Who knows? He might be suicidal for all we know?”

“And  you might be struggling with an overactive imagination, who knows?”

“Hmmm …. I guess you’re right.”

Sighing, I sit back to enjoy the rest of our visit to the beech in peace. 

Digging into the sand with her toes Elli seemed content to let that happen.

“I think the sand is going to fall on him.”

I should have known it won’t last.

“Why would the sand fall on him?

“Cause it’s all rumbling and scary and his going very close to it.”

“Well it won’t fall on him ….”

“Why?”

“Ahhhhhh, Ellie I don’t know. Perhaps because it hasn’t fallen on anyone before.”

“There’s always a first day for everything, that’s what grandma always says.”

I laughed despite my weariness.

In response to the writing challenge flash fiction for aspiring writers hosted by Priceless Joy click on the link to visit the blog. The photograph is from the lovely Louise a storytellers abode (interesting photo can’t wait to see all the stories it inspires) and the challenge is to write a 100 – 150 words (+/- 25 words) story inspired by it. Do click on the link for other stories. 

 

Indisputable

There are approximately a hundred and thirty-five squares on that side of the wall. I know what your thinking, boredom does strange things to the human mind. Do I have any options?

And the colour? It doesn’t do much for the imagination does it? On second thought; it reminds me of school lunches and detention hallways. Places designed to forewarn you of life in prison; lukewarm meals and dinge spaces.

His voice jars me from my reverie, it’s gone all pitchy. 

He sounds desperately  innocent.

“I understand Mr Finch …..” I say

Do I believe him? Sure, the walls pink ain’t it?

 

Written for Friday fictioneers a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by the lovely J hardy Carroll, the task is to write a 100 words story inspired by it. Thanks Rochelle for hosting the challenge. Thank you for stopping by… do click on the link to read other stories.

 

Redemption from shawshank

At first it made no difference to me, gradually it started to grate on my nerves; soft words spoken solely for my ears.

Like a dripping tap it slowly corroded my heart.

You promised to be there for me, you never waived. Off course I didn’t believe you, why should I? And against my better judgement I let you stay, why? Why? WHY?

I found you veil  and soft at once. How is that even possible?

Sitting here on the sofa next to you watching shawshank redemption, it dawns on me ‘like Andy you drilled a tunnel through the quagmire called my life, but unlike him you weren’t seeking escape, you were bringing deliverance to a life buried six feet under.

One would think you spoke flowery words, how wrong they would be. No you spoke the truth but you never said them in spite or derision. You didn’t seek to save me for yourself, you sort to save me from myself.

You took that step and never looked back.

In response to the writing challenge flash fiction for aspiring writers hosted by Priceless Joy click on the link to visit the blog. The photograph is from the lovely J.S Brand (interesting photo can’t wait to see all the stories it inspires) and the challenge is to write a 100 – 150 words (+/- 25 words) story inspired by it. Do click on the link for other stories.