This is my story for this week’s prompt for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, brought to us by Priceless Joy. Thanks once again Joy 🙂
“Is this it?” Sam stared at the grotty looking gazebo which stood in the middle of an overgrown suburban park. Layers of graffiti and pigeon shit covered its peeling walls, and its deck was littered with food wrappers, cigarette butts, other unmentionable detritus. “Looks like there’s been a fire”. Josh circled around to kick over a half burnt sign. “Yep. This is it alright”. He walked back over to Sam. “What do you think? Should we give it a try?”
She peered over the rotten steps. “I can’t believe we’ve come all this way for this dump.” She took a few steps forward, wrinkling her nose. “Screw it Josh. There’s no one around to see us making fools of ourselves if it doesn’t work. Lets go.” She took his hand and led him up the steps, as the building started to shake and spin around them. The illusion fell away, and an unseen voice greeted them. “Welcome to the Portal of Infinite Possibilities. Where in the multiverse would you like to go?”
This is my contribution to this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt, provided by Priceless Joy.
John tried to convince his audience. “There. He stretched his arm out towards a dark patch of water. I was in the raft and she appeared right there.”
Miranda crossed her arms with a loud huff and glared at her father. “Dad, I can’t believe that you still drag us out here every year for this stupid story. You imagined the whole thing, get over it.”
“She saved my life, Miranda. I think I’d know if I imagined it.”
“Yeah well we’re not 3 years old anymore. I find it hard to believe that a mermaid saved your life.”
“Uh dad.. behind you.” Toby was staring at something behind his father.
A naked woman hung above their boat like Botticelli’s Venus. Her golden tail glinting in the sunlight. She leant towards the paralyzed occupants of the boat and slapped John across his face.
“You bastard. 16 years I’ve waited for my reward. Where is it?”
John pushed Miranda towards her. “Here you are. One firstborn, as promised. Enjoy.”
This is my contribution to this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, brought to us by Priceless Joy.
Laura checked her watch. Where is he? He knows that I hate being late. She craned her neck over the edge of the platform.
“Excuse me, could you step behind the yellow line?” A uniformed man wearing an official tone and a whistle around his neck strolled over.
She turned around. “Uh.. sorry Mrs. Amazing, didn’t realize it was you… wow, never thought I’d see a superhero at a train station!”
“Well, Mr. Amazing chose not to fly today. And its Ms. not Mrs.” Her smile and her eyes gave him different messages.
He pulled out his phone. “Hey can I get a pic..er, never mind.” His survival instinct kicked in just as the train arrived.
Mr. Amazing stepped out and walked towards his wife.
“Sorry babe.” He shook his phone in her face. “Had to go back for this.”
“Where is it?”
A look of panic washed over his face. “Oh shit. I left it on the train!”
Millbrae Station was reduced to a pile of rubble.
Here’s my contribution to this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt. Thanks Priceless Joy for another awesome prompt!
The scene of the crime pierced an otherwise quiet neighbourhood like a gaudy Christmas tree, lit up with the flashing lights of emergency vehicles, news crews, and the flashes from a hundred selfies as the gawkers updated their Instagram feeds.
A crumpled car. A ruined house.
“A horrible accident” report the newsfeeds, filling your hunger for the latest tragedy.
An unfortunate set of circumstances leading to disaster.
But nothing happens by chance, does it?
I was there. I know.
The young family safe and warm in their home, enjoying story time before bed. The drunk driver risking the short trip home. A corner taken too fast. A cat which chose that instant to run across his path.
In the matter of life and death, a few seconds can make all the difference – or make no difference at all.
That poor family you say. What a terrible accident.
But in the matter of life and death, there are no accidents. I know. I was there.
Here’s my contribution to this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt from Priceless Joy. Thanks once again Joy..
Fred cleared his throat nervously in the silence. His allergies had been playing up all day, and the tickle at the back of his throat was becoming unbearable. His eyes began to water as he fought to keep from breaking into a coughing fit. But the prize was so close now, he had to hold himself together.
The others stood around him in a circle – hoods drawn down over their faces. Only their shoes gave away their vocation.
“It is time.” A hooded figure broke away from the circle and walked over to Fred. “Bring me the Nose.” Another hooded figure approached, holding a black velvet cushion. Fred stared transfixed at the shiny red nose which sat atop the cushion.
The hooded figure picked up the nose and held it high. Behold Brothers, the mark of the Clown. He stooped down and affixed the nose on Fred. From this day forth, you will be known as Frozo. Welcome Brother.
Frozo sneezed, his shiny new nose flying off into the smoke filled room.
Here’s my contribution to this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thankyou Priceless Joy for another fun prompt this week!
Oliver Wilde stumbled up the hill, too depleted of energy to take anything beyond the smallest steps necessary to keep himself from toppling over. He stopped and steadied himself on a light pole, waiting for the wave of nausea to subside.
He was in the process of passing out from the smell of his own breath when a loud bang jolted him back to life.
“Hey buddy, over here – in the dumpster.”
Oliver stared at the big blue box sitting in front of him, unsure of his next move.
The dumpster’s lid was slightly open, so he leaned forward to peer inside. “Hello?”
“Can you give me a hand in here?” a voice echoed from inside.
He pushed open the lid of the dumpster to find there was nothing in it except for an empty beer bottle.
I must be drunk, he thought, scratching his head. “I need help”.
Word limit: 151
Here’s my contribution to this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.
Jessica felt the knot in her stomach tighten as the house came into view between the thick hedges veiling it from the outside world. White Manor. It had been in her family for longer than anyone could remember, growing fat on the memories made within its walls.
She had stayed away for almost 20 years, the last visit being for her Uncle Austin’s funeral. This time she had no choice, as her great- aunt had surprised everyone by naming Jessica as her sole heir. Her relatives thought that she had ingratiated herself to the old woman and taken advantage of her. But Jessica knew that it was the house which had chosen her.
The car crunched to a halt in front of the main doors. Jessica sat while the driver walked around to open her door – prolonging the inevitable for as long as she could. The scent of roses hit her as she stepped out of the cab. She was home.