sunday photo fiction

Flash Fiction: Little Lighthouse

Little Ben surveyed the ocean from his very own lighthouse.

Ben’s father, a Captain in the Imperial Navy would spend months away on the seas. Ben had inherited his father’s love for the deep blue. Upon this realization, father built a little lighthouse for little Ben.

Ben would spend all his spare time in the lighthouse, keeping a weather eye trained at the ocean. He kept a tab on the vessels that arrived and left port. Ben’s keen vision helped in saving the town from catastrophe during The Great Festival.

Ben was the first to spot the approaching Jolly Rogers…


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Sunday Photo Fiction Dec. 2, 2018

Advertisements

Flash Fiction: News

I can’t believe it.

No, not the fact that Nessie exists. I never doubted that part. I just can’t believe that the newspaper would make such a big deal out of it. A full page headline, really?

I must admit it was a real smart move. It draws the attention of readers and is going to boost their sales figures for sure. Well, we can’t lose to the competition. I think I am going to call marketing right now.

We need to get the story on that idiot trying to prove the existence of Global Warming. That ought to sell…


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Sunday Photo Fiction November 25, 2018

Flash Fiction: Eye Candy

I thought I could work this, but this is turning out to be a nightmare.

“Not like that doll, why don’t you deliver the dialogue just as we rehearsed?”

She smiles and nods, just like she did after the previous twenty failed takes. Come to think of it, it is that smile that made me select her over all the other potential leads  for my project. She’s absolutely stunning, a real eye candy. However, I hope I did not make a mistake in thinking that she’ll pick up on the acting bit. She got the pose part down to the t. The dialogue bit..oh well.

“Doll, let’s go through the order of the steps in the scene, again. So that you can get the flow right. First you pose, that’s perfect. Now, we just need to blend that pose with the dialogue.”

She looks at me clueless. I sigh. All she has to do is read it from the teleprompter. The scenery is perfect, she is looking perfect.

I guess I could hire someone to dub the dialogues. Sigh…..


Prompts:

Sunday Photo Fiction – November 4, 2018

Weekly Writing Challenge #166

Flash Fiction: Training

My sister stood behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders.

“Little brother, pay attention to what I teach you. We need you to be ready for when Jack-O-Lantern comes, this Halloween. We are counting on you.”

I nodded. My sister stepped back and continued.

“We will continue from where we left off yesterday. Now you know how to knock an arrow on the bow. You also know how to shoot. Today, we will learn how to aim. Remember, out there we have to learn to make every arrow count and prioritize our targets.”

I drew my bow.

“Good. Now, I want you to aim at those pumpkin heads. Make sure you fire slightly above where you intend to hit. Now, shoot.”

THWACK!

My arrow hit clown pumpkin right in the center…

(Read more about this family and their war against Jack-O-Lantern here – FLASH FICTION: PUMPKINS )


Word Count: 135

Prompts:

Sunday Photo Fiction – October 28, 2018

Weekend Writing Prompt #78 – Arrow

FOWC with Fandango — Prioritize

 

Flash Fiction: Lifetime

Old man Bob and granny Ginnie were sitting in their front garden.

The old couple clinked their glasses of chilled beer.

“Bob, this is bliss. Good wheat beer, a lovely breeze, and nothing to do but sit and enjoy the setting sun in each others company.”

Bob laughed.

“I agree, Ginnie. This is life at its very best.”

“That it is, darling.”

Bob and Ginnie took a long sip of the beer, draining their glasses.

“Ginnie, I have spent my life with you and spent it well. I would have no regrets even if I died right now.”

“I feel the same, Bob.”

At the very next moment, the heavy branch hanging over the couple snapped, falling on their heads with a sick thud…


Word Count: 124

Prompt: Sunday Photo Fiction October 21

Flash Fiction: The Food House

I was walking back home on an alternate route, with my friend, Emily,

“Andy, it is almost Halloween. We should not be here.”

“Why’s that?”

“The Food House appears here.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a house, that entices you into going inside by making you smell amazing food. And once you go inside…”

“…You never return. Right?”

I sniggered.

“Come on, Em. It’s a made-up story.”

Suddenly, I spotted a house and could smell delicious grilled chicken. Emily went into a hypnotic state and briskly started walking towards the door. I looked at the window.

I saw an old lady wearing a chef’s hat, brandishing a spatula, smiling a toothless smile….


Word Count: 110

Prompts:

Sunday Photo Fiction Sept 30, 2018

Weekend Writing Prompt #74 – Brandish

 

Flash Fiction: Highway to Hell

Mathew pushed down on the accelerator, breezing on the highway.

He turned up the music when the familiar AC/DC track began playing on the radio. Mathew sniggered.

How appropriate.

Mathew knew that there was a bleak chance at best to defeat the berserk demon. The scars on his breast began throbbing, because his borrowed vitality was fading. Mathew thought back on last week when the demon had appeared in front of him in a black billow of smoke. Mathew had looked into its bloodshot eyes, before it had swiftly struck him down. Its razor-sharp nails had made a huge gash on his chest. He remembered the spray of blood pouring out from it, causing him to collapse on the ground. As he lay in a pool of his blood, Mathew could only watch as the demon proceeded to briskly destroy his family and friends, shredding them to pieces and feasting on their flesh and bones. Mathew had felt himself falling into a bottomless pit of darkness. That is when he had heard a voice, offering him a deal. An eternity of servitude in exchange for vengeance. Mathew had accepted.

Now, he was bringing hell to the demon…

(Read the sequel here – Flash Fiction: Nemesis )


Word Count: 200

Prompts:

Bonus Wordle “The Letter B”

Sunday Photo Fiction – Sept 23, 2018

Manic Mondays 3 Way Prompt: Scars

 

Flash Fiction: Sunday At Sea

The weather was perfect for a nice day at the sea.

It was Sunday, their Sea-day. Every week for the last four years, the couple had gone sunbathing in the sea. This Sunday was no different. The two had booked their regular floating double-chair, waddled their way to it, and plopped themselves on it. It was their recharge zone. The swaying waves, delightful breeze and the mild sun helped them relax their bodies and minds after slogging hard at work. The two slept back, listening to the jazz on their waterproof i-pods. They painted a picture of sheer serenity with the sunlight being reflected off the suntan gloss on their resting bodies.

The picture remained serene only for a couple of hours. The oblivious couple failed to notice the crowd rushing out of the sea.

They also failed to notice the approaching giant shark fin.


Word Count: 145

Prompts:

Sunday Photo Fiction – Sept 16 2018

Word of the Day Challenge – Gloss

Flash Fiction: Bagpiper

“Well laddie, are you sure about this? It won’t be easy.”

The burly man was looking at me with doubtful eyes.

“Yes, sir. I’m sure.”

He nodded at me.

“Very well. Then I suggest…”

Before he could finish his sentence, I heard my friends running towards me.

“Hey Ian! Whatchya doing here? Let’s go to the guitar section.”

“You go on ahead, guys. I will join you in a bit.”

Darren looked at me suspiciously.

“Say Ian, are you interested in bagpipes?”

I nodded at him. My friends looked at each other for a second and then burst out laughing.

“You are such a loser, Ian. Everyone knows bagpipes is for old men. Guitars are the cool stuff. Let’s go guys!”

I watched as my friends turned around and went towards the guitar section of the exhibition. I looked up at the man, who had witnessed my interaction with my friends. I could feel tears welling up. The man smiled at me and ruffled my hair.

“Don’t listen to them, laddie. If you really want to learn bagpipes, do it. I will teach you. Do your best, and prove them wrong.”

I smiled back, at my new mentor.


Word Count: 198

Prompts:

Sunday Photo Fiction – Sept 9, 2018

Tale Weaver #187 – Doing Your Best – 6th September

 

Flash Fiction: Outlaw

Another day, another kill.

As a kid, I loved outlaws. Listening about their exploits: those daring raids, those glorious heists and that volatile lifestyle, I adored all of it. It was every kid’s dream to become an outlaw in the wild west. Then, it all changed. Outlaws attacked my family ranch. Dragged me and my parents out of the house, and made me watch as they shot them.

Now, I loathe outlaws. And they fear me, The Dark Sheriff.


Word Count: 79

Prompts:

Sunday Photo Fiction – Sept 2, 2018

Weekend Writing Prompt #70 – Outlaw

FOWC with Fandango — Loathe

Word of the Day Challenge – Volatile