sunday writing prompt

Flash Fiction: Trash

This was it, the last hope for me.

I plod towards the trash can, the only thing could save me from starvation. I could not recall the last time I had eaten a proper meal, which for me was half a sandwich. I opened the lid in hungry anticipation, only to find it completely empty. The garbage truck had come and gone before time.

Dejected, I looked around. My eyes met with a kid’s eyes. He was staring at me. In his left hand, he clutched a rather large lollipop. He saw me looking at it, and held it out towards me. He smiled at me as I shuffled towards him. I reached out my arm to take the lollipop. He promptly pulled back his hand and stuck the lollipop in his mouth. I could only watch as he finished the lollipop making sure I knew how much he was enjoying the lollipop. After he was done, he stuck out a purple tongue at me and turned around.

The lollipop looked tasty, but as my tummy grumbled, the kid began looking tastier…

Word Count: 182


Sunday Photo Fiction: January 6th, 2018

Flash Fiction: Treatment

“So, what can you see in this ink blot, Dennis?”

Dr. Cutberth watched intently, as Dennis stared at the Rorschach Test. Dennis stuttered.

“M..m..moons. I can see different moons.”

Dr. Cutberth scribbled on his notepad. He noticed Dennis’ piloerection. That was never a good sign.

“Okay, Dennis. Now, I want you to come up to the window and look at the sky. Tell me what you see.”

Dennis did as he was told.

“Doctor, I can see the clouds and the stars. And..and the moon.”

Dr. Cutberth found that quite curious. It was a no-moon night. There was no moon out there. He seated the shuddering Dennis down and offered him a cup of hot chocolate. Dennis clutched it in his hands and sipped on it.

“One last question, Dennis. These blackouts you mentioned. When did they start?”

“Around two months ago. I think I had around four of these blackouts. I just can’t recall anything about them.”

The doctor scribbled some more on his notepad. Dennis looked at the doctor with scared eyes.

“Am I going mad, doctor? Am I sick? Can you treat me?”

The doctor placed a comforting hand on Dennis’ shoulder and handed him a prescription note.

“Don’t worry Dennis. It will be taken care of. I have prescribed some Ag pellets for you. Just hand the slip to my assistant, Miss Blossom, outside. She will take care of it.”

Dennis shook the doctor’s hand.

“Thank You, doctor.”

The doctor smiled and shut the door of his room, as Dennis left. He quickly made a call on his phone.


“Another one. There is a sudden alarming rise in the population of werewolves. Let’s see what Helsing has to say about this…”

Word Count: 281


August 2018 Blog Battle

Sunday Writing Prompt “Rorschach Test 3”

Word of the Day Challenge “Blossom”

FOWC with Fandango “Treat”

SoCS August 11/18


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