Flash Fiction: Our Plan

We planned it perfectly.

We knew about his schedule. He was a man of habit and never swayed from his plans. That made it easy for us to hatch the plot. The servants were easy enough to get rid off. A coin here, a holiday there, and they weren’t going to cause any problems. His bodyguards were an issue, but wine and women had taken care of them.

On the planned date, he was all alone during his walk. The senile statesman did not even notice his solitude until our knives pierced him.

His reign was finally at an end…

Word Count: 100


Friday Fictioneers April 12 2019
PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot


Microfiction: Silence

Silence Is Quite Fabulous. I Had Warned The Neighbours. But, No.

Three Bullets Well Spent…


Weekend Writing Prompt #100 – Silence

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS April 6/19

Flash Fiction: Thorny Tree

It had been a week since I had slept well.

My hair had been keeping me up. It itched so much. I had used the best hair products, but to no avail. I asked my mother if I should visit a doctor, but she had refused, stating that such things happen when puberty hits.

That night, it was a lot worse. My hair felt as if it were ablaze. I stepped outside to get some fresh air, and that’s when it happened all of a sudden.

Thorny branches began growing from my hair, eventually falling off and becoming a tree….

Word Count: 100


Friday Fictioneers 5th April 2019
PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

Flash Fiction: Loom

Look at the power loom.

See how all these different threads are connected to the loom. They revolve around it just like the lives of so many people. The workers, the owner, the buyers, the gangs, the soldiers and even the king, are all like the threads that are interwoven by the loom. Even if one thread proves to be of an inferior quality and breaks, the loom will stop functioning.

But, maybe this society as it functions is already broken. Maybe it needs a new direction. This loom has power over our society.
Breaking it, will destroy the society…

Word Count: 100

Prompt: Friday Fictioneers 29th March 2019
PHOTO PROMPT© Sandra Crook

Flash Fiction: Cultists

“Wanna start a cult?”

I stared at my best friend’s face. Sometimes she had the weirdest of ideas. I played along.

“Okay, sure. So, what will our cult do?”

She thought about it for a few seconds and retorted.

“We will do cool things.”

I nodded.

“Like what?”

“I dunno. We’ll figure that out. But, we will have a cool club attire and codewords and tattoos.”

I smiled at her, slyly.

“And I presume we’ll cut up people and sacrifice them?”

She pouted at me.

“Don’t make fun of me. You know we already do that.”

I laughed as I cleaned my dagger, which was dripping with fresh blood.

“Then I guess we are already in a cult. Aren’t we?”

She paused again for a moment. And nodded.

“Yep, right you are, as always. Now come help me lift this body. We need to take it to the sacrificial slab..”

Word Count: 150


First Line Friday March 15th 2019

Flash Fiction: Wood Piano

It lay untouched by the entrance.

The eccentric restaurateur had purchased the wooden piano from the antique shop. He thought that it ornamentally fit in with his restaurant, The Musical Meal. After placing it by the entrance, he did not give it a second thought. He did not look at it until a few months later, when he heard a commotion outside the restaurant. He rushed outside to find a small crowd gathered. The people were all clapping and cheering for a ragged looking old man sitting at the wood piano, playing it.

As he played, flowers bloomed on it…

Word Count: 100


Friday Fictioneers 15 MARCH 2019

Flash Fiction: Silver Bike

We’ve found it.

The plate matches. We’ve found the getaway vehicle, just as the witnesses described: A silver roadster. Wow, this is one heck of a machine. No wonder we could not catch it. Only if the police department gave us better vehicles to work with.
Our suspect is a master thief. Somehow, he effortlessly broke into the most secure vault and stole the Count’s pendant without triggering any alarm, giving him enough time to mount his bike and get away from us. I think he’s a master sniper too. Why?

Because there’s a frigging laser dot on my chest…

Word Count: 100


Friday Fictioneers 8th March 2019

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


Friday Fictioneers 15th February 2019

Flash Fiction: Castles

There it crumbles, again.

It took me months to build it. Many months of planning, all wasted. This was supposed to be my magnum opus. It would have been my legacy. I dedicated so much of my prescious time and efforts into it. It took those cruel people only a matter of hours to bring it down.

What’s done is done. Now it’s time I rebuild it. That is the best part about them, they can be built again.

My grand castles in the air…

Word Count: 85


Tale Weaver #209

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


Friday Fictioneers 1st February, 2019

Carrot Ranch January 31: Flash Fiction Challenge