friday fictioneers

Flash Fiction: Climb

I knew it was not going to be easy.

The top floor, and a window of only fifteen minutes to get through the open window. Time to see if all my practice at the rock climbing wall bore any fruit.

Okay, slow and steady does it. I won’t look down and only focus on the goal – the window. That’s easier said than done. Here come the shivers. Ignore them, ignore them.
Right, made it to the window. It is open, as I was promised.

I hope she likes her valentine’s gift and can keep it away from her disapproving father…


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 15th February 2019

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Flash Fiction: Dry Breeze

The dry breeze stings my face.

This sand, this air, are slowly choking the life out of me. I want to get back to my old life. I had power, I had purpose, but most importantly, I had freedom. Here, I feel trapped. My injuries did not kill me, merely forced me to retire. However, I wish I had died before I retired. I wish I was buried at the sea, like a true captain.

I long for the darkness to find me, as much as I long for the sea mist to caress my face, one last time.


Word Count: 99

Prompts:

Friday Fictioneers 1st February, 2019

Carrot Ranch January 31: Flash Fiction Challenge

Flash Fiction: The Woods

Find the prequels here:

Part 1- Twittering Tale: Campfire

Part 2- Flash Fiction: Boots

Part 3- Flash Fiction: Stay Out

Part 4- Flash Fiction: Into The Woods

Part 5- Flash Fiction: Into The Woods
Now the story continues…


The three boys kept their eyes peeled.

For a split second, Gary thought he spotted a shadow moving inside the fog. However, it vanished as soon as he realised he had seen it. In fact, all of the fog began receding into the denser woods.

Gary sighed in relief and turned to face his friends, only to realise that only Roger was standing there. Roger and Gary heard their friend’s cries for help coming from the woods.

Without a word, they followed his voice. It led them to a clearing, where they saw a vintage abandoned car.

Kye continued screaming…

(Find the next part here- Flash Fiction: The Woods 2 )


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 25 Jan 2019

Flash Fiction: Door

Looking at the door nervously, I backed up into the kitchen.

“Mom!”

She replied with a quick hmmm, refusing to divert her attention away from the vegetables she was chopping.

“It’s the door!”

She dropped down her knife and rushed towards the door. I could see the colour draining from her face.

“Call up Father Lorenzo. Tell him the paper charms are coming off.”

I nodded and took a step back. Before dialling the number on my phone I turned to mom.

“Mom, does this mean dad woke up?”

Mom stared at me.

“Yes, my child! And he is hungry!”


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 18 January 2019

Flash Fiction: Paper Chits

Jon looked at the jar full of paper chits, as he trembled in his tiny shoes.

His father walked towards the jar and reached his arm to pick it up. It felt like eternity for Jon. Finally, the jar was open, and the paper chits tumbled out. The colourful chits were all sources of fear for Jon. He heard his father murmuring,

“What will it be today?”

Father picked up the chit and opened it. Jon gulped as his father read out the chit.

“Ten whacks with a rod. This will be fun!”

Jon cursed the coloured punishing paper chits…


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 11 Jan, 2019

Photo Credit – https://priyreflects.com/

Flash Fiction: Vengeful Rocks

Ha! Look how they cower behind their fence.

Many years ago, those same people had confronted my family and thrown us outside the fence. Our only crime was that we did not look human enough. Our flinty faces had been enough of a motive. They never cared about whether we were good at heart or not. They indiscriminately tossed us out like trash.

Now, my rocky wave will crush them all. My moving mountain will flatten everything they own. There will be no discrimination at all.

Everyone will die by my vengeful rocks…


Word Count: 93

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 4th January 2019

Flash Fiction: Grave

It gets lonely here.

All alone, no company. The neighbours have left their graves, choosing to move on to the next world. They were ready for their judgement. I would guess heaven was the place they would end up. They seemed like nice people.

Now, with them gone, I have no one here, and no interest in moving on. I do get ocassional visitors: risque couples, grave robbers and horror enthusiasts. Today, it’s this goat.

Here boy, stay right here till night settles in.

Lamb chops would be a nice dinner…


Word Count: 91

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 28 December 2018

Flash Fiction: Embarrassed

It all started at the fancy dress competition.

Little Joey’s parents had made him dress up as a cowboy and participate in the competition. He had never wanted to do it. He hated the idea of standing in front of doting parents and boisterous children. However, Joey’s words of protests fell on the deaf ears of his parents. He was pushed on to the stage. Little Joey tripped over his shoes, falling right out of them, much to the amusement of the crowd and his embarrassment. It is at this moment it happened.

Little Joey discovered he could turn invisible…


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 21st December, 2018

 

Photo Copyright – Adam Ickes

 

Flash Fiction: My Globe

Kids can be wise.

I was sitting in my workshop, working on my project – a model of earth. My ten year old son walked in. He looked at the globe for a few seconds and then turned to me.

“This is wrong, Dad. We have learnt about the earth. It does not look like this.”

“This is my globe of the future, kiddo. Global warming has sunk most of the land, leaving only few far off island areas.”

“Then, I prefer the globe of the past. Where all land was together, all people were close.”

He was right…


Word Count: 100

Prompt: Friday Fictioneers 14th December 2018

Flash Fiction: Bridge

The job was almost over.

The Skulls Mercenaries would collect yet another feather in their cap. Having never failed a mission, we were tasked with guarding the train. Rather, we were tasked with guarding the precious cargo on it.

The journey had been long and intense. Two days of shooting and being shot at. There were many injuries, but not one casualty. My men were the toughest soldiers out there, my personal picks. They would never fail.

This was it, the last bridge to the tunnel, and a heavy pay day.

That was the plan, until the bridge blew up..


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 7th December 2018