fiction

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

Three Line Tale: Snake Show

Come one, come all to my snake show, and yes it is absolutely safe and free.

I need a volunteer and you will do perfectly ma’am, see how my snake shows affection by hugging you.

So, that’s fifty dollars, not for the show, that is free, but the fee is only so that my slithering friend here loosens his grip…


Prompt:

Three Line Tales, Week 188

Photo by Prescott Horn via Unsplash

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

Twittering Tale: Data

She read the data.

It had taken hours to upload it all. After the main servers were systematically taken out one by one, it was up to her to safeguard the backup data. She could not trust other agents and so she had stored the data in the most secure location:

Her android brain…


Character Count: 280

Prompt:

Twittering Tales #152 – 3 September 2019

Flash Fiction: The Safebreaker’s Daughter

She rode on, the bags of coin and jewels jingling behind her.

This was her biggest haul yet. It was larger than her father’s greatest score. He would be happy had he still been with her. This life of thievery was full of perils, and she recognised that it could lead her to a quick end. However, it was all she knew, all that was taught to her by her father – The Safebreaker. She liked the name. It announced her skill. Her other skills helped her get into the houses of rich spoilt sons.

They were considerably poorer now…


Word Count: 99

Prompt:

August 29: Flash Fiction Challenge

Flash Fiction: Childhood Revisited

Alcohol makes humans do weird things.

I guess, after a point, we just want to feel young again. Alcohol helps with that. A few pegs down, my neighbours begin to think that they are young men and women. Once the booze really begins to flow, they begin revisiting their childhood. They are at it right now. I can see them holding on to each other and I can hear them making choo choo sounds – a human train. There goes the train, picking up speed. Okay, I think I need to be out there.

These old trains tend to derail faster…


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 30th August, 2019

Microfiction: Wires

This is tricky.

There are way too many wires here. Which one do I cut to defuse the bomb? Well, the manual says I should cut the red one. But, there are two red wires here. The contingency calls for cutting the green wire. There isn’t one! Think..Think. Got it! Green is a mixture of blue and yellow. I should cut those wires together. One…Two…Three…

*snip*

*beep beep boop boop BOOM*

“Trainee, if that was a real life situation, we would all have been blown to smithereens. You fail this test!”

Crap…


Prompt:

Kreative Kue #226