flash fiction

She Hides

She hides from him – his hungry eyes and itching hands.

She hides silently, waiting for him to come closer.

She hides, but the scars on her back and the bruises on her legs stand exposed

She hides with bated breath, listening closely to his approaching steps.

She hides, as he calls out to her in his sickening, singsong voice.

She hides the blade behind her back, right until the moment he is in range.

The knife plunges deep, penetrating into his shallow soul.

Now, she hides no more.

Word Count: 88

Prompts:

What do you see # 56 – 16 November 2020

Saturday Mix – Opposing Forces, 21 November 2020

thedarknetizen - Visit to the Shrink

Visit to the Shrink

I come from a tribe of head-hunters, so I will never need a shrink.

It’s a paradox, but I believed it to be the truth. That was until the voices in my head began speaking. Just one in the beginning. But soon, nineteen others joined in. I demurred visiting a shrink even when their constant chattering and bickering began drowning out my own thoughts. On some lonely nights I would feel my entire conscious self shoved to the bottom of my mind, the voices taking over completely. For the very first time I felt that I was no longer in control of my own body. I booked an appointment with the shrink at once.

The shrink heard me out patiently, even heard out some of the statements made by the other voices. She asked me to write down the names of the voices, if I knew them. I knew all twenty of them and missed out on none. The shrink read through the list calmly, her index finger tracing a path along the page. She adjusted her glasses as she reread the list. She kept the paper aside, and pulled out her cellphone, tapping away furiously. After a minute of scrolling through it, she stood up from her chair, and stared at me with a look of horror on her face.

So, I did try visiting a shrink. In the end, even her smart little head was not enough. She only added to my troubles. Now I have to deal with twenty one voices, trying to get back at me.

Word Count – 260

Prompts:

Reena’s Exploration Challenge #162

FOWC with Fandango — Paradox

Your Daily Word Prompt – #Demur – #YDWordPrompt November 20, 2020

Three Things Challenge #423

Flash Fiction: Treasures

Beth and Ben stared at the mess lying on grandpa’s bed.

They took one last look inside the wardrobe they had freshly emptied. Dejected, they ran down the stairs to their grandfather. Puffing their cheeks the little twins stood between grandpa and the television.
“Grandpa is a liar,” the two declared in unison.
Grandpa adjusted his spectacles.
“When did I lie?”
The kids led him up to his bedroom. They pointed to the empty wardrobe.
“You said grandma kept her treasures here before going to heaven.”
Grandpa smiled looking at the mess on his bed.

“I never lied. They’re here.”


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 25th Oct 2019
PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

Twittering Tale: Grandma’s Chest

The chest lay untouched.

All us cousins knew we weren’t to go near it. Grandma had made that clear. However, on a boozy night, our curiousity got the better of us. I accepted the dare to open it. There lay grandpa’s corpse, one eye staring at us.

A knife plunged through the other.


Character Count: 280

Prompt:

Twittering Tales #154 – 17 September 2019

Flash Fiction: Dad’s Glasses

Dad was always mysterious.

Mother quarreled with him over his secretive lifestyle. However, he never changed his ways. He would spend hours in our library, buried under piles of books. He never seemed to read them, rather he just skimmed through. Mother had developed a resentment towards books and did not step inside the library, and I simply wasn’t allowed there. One day, while dad was away on a trip, I snuck in. I wore his glasses and began going through his books. It was then I understood his obsession. The glasses highlighted certain words – clues.

To grandpa’s treasure maybe?


Word Count: 100

Prompt: Friday Fictioneers 13th September 2019
PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

Flash Fiction: Museum Visit

It was a slow sunday, just the way I like it.

It started off with a bright, boozy brunch. The food was as good as if not better than the merry conversations at the table. My head still floating with a mild buzz, I decided to visit the museum. It always transported me to the past. I walked through all the exhibits, taking my time to read all the descriptions. The solid, factual language used, was a nice change from the flowery words I was used to at work. After spending a couple of hours at all the exhibits, I made my way to the technology wing. This was my favourite section. As I observed the handheld devices, I remembered the smartphone era from my childhood. We still had to touch the screen. Today, my brain-link glasses do it all for me.

I only have to think…


Word Count: 147

Prompts:

Weekend Writing Prompt #122 – Museum

Sunday Photo Fiction – Sep 8 2019
Photo courtesy of LL Jones

Flash Fiction: Bunker

It has been four days now.

For four days we have been trapped in this bunker as those dastardly planes bomb our city relentlessly. The torrential explosions in the day are followed by distant detonations in the night. It then that we venture out of the bunker. A group of four or five at a time. We make a run for the storeroom and grab food for those in the bunkers. The devils in the sky think they can make us quit with their rain of hellfire. That won’t happen. We will never give up.

Long live our Fatherland!


Word Count: 99

Prompt:

Carrot Ranch September 5 Flash Fiction Challenge


Flash Fiction: My Meanstalk

Kids are supposed to be naughty.

They hardly have any ill intent behind their actions. I’m not such a kid. I mean every cuss word I throw. I don’t hide behind my cute smile, I proudly flash my evil grin. This time, my family will feel my anger. They actually thought they could ground me. Well, they were wrong. This plant I ordered online will help me. It has only been three hours since I planted its seed and it has already spread so much. My plant will soon cover the entire house. Grow, my meanstalk, spread all over.

Bwahahahaha!


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 6th Sep, 2019
PHOTO PROMPT © Penny Gadd

Flash Fiction: Gramophone

A walk in the weekly market was what I needed.

It had been a rough couple of days. My house was burgled. They did not get their hands on my money, but they did get away with items that held sentimental value for me. Replacing them was impossible. Or so I thought, until I came upon a music stall at the market. The golden gramophone caught my eye. It would be a good substitute for the one I lost. The stall owner smiled at me as I began looking at the instrument with admiring eyes. It was the same colour, model and had the same initials carved on to it. Wait..

That was my gramophone!!!


Word Count: 115

Prompt:

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER: WEEK #36

Flash Fiction: Flying Gate

I looked up at the director
“Boss, this is the fifth time I’ve set up the gate and fence.”
The director looked at me callously.
“The shot wasn’t right. So, you do your job and I will do mine, to get the perfect take. Okay?”
He turned around before I could reply. The gate and fence were ready to be destroyed all over again. The director shouted at the stunt driver.
“Get in the van and do it right this time.”
I knew exactly where the stunt driver was hoping the soon-to-be-flying gate would land.

I agreed with his sentiments.


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Kreative Kue 227