Archive for the ‘fiction’ Category

PHOTO PROMPT -© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/10/07/2-october-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction.

Come, enjoy a Snickers.

Here’s my contribution:

Super 8

The motel was called Super 8. Charlotte thought how apropos that name as she surveilled the vehicles in the lot below.

Eight.

They were all driverless, quiet, yet she couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched. They had been trapped here a week, no cell service, no wi-fi, a single Snickers remaining.

As Charlotte walked to 306 to check on Billy the Suburban began to purr, gravel crunched softly as the wheels tracked.

Would help come?

Billy and his bag were gone. From below, Charlotte heard crunching again as Billy broke across the lot.

The vehicles roared to life.

jKb

FFF Prompt bay-windows

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/09/02/4-september-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction.

Come, share some exhilaration.

Here’s my contribution:

Leap Of Faith

She taunted, “You’re too afraid. You can’t possibly love me.”

“Why don’t you believe me?” Philip called down from the third floor window. “Please don’t leave me.”

“You lack faith. And, sadly, it’s disturbing.”

She turned to walk away, but slowly. She was waiting.

“I can prove it.”

“You’ve had your opportunities, Philip, and you’ve squandered them.”

“Name it. I’ll do anything.” Bingo.

“Anything? Like wrestle an alligator?”

Philip was nodding emphatically, leaning way out, his face twisted in agony. “Yes.”

“Like eat dog shit?”

“Anything.”

He couldn’t resist. Her control overwhelmed him.

“Show me.

“Here boy.

“Go on.

“NOW!”

jKb

FFF Prompt moths

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/08/12/14-august-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction.

Come, enjoy another oldie. These bring back fond memories.

Here’s my contribution:

Dust

The facility far beneath the vacant cinder-block structure had been closed two years, a defunct burger front above. This reticent spicule of urban sprawl on the edge of Harrisonburg forever unsuspecting. Experiments, cries for mercy, now ghostly whispers wafting up twelve stories of cement throat, echoing into deserted prep zones once deploying manipulated strains of polyunsaturated fat. Something new flitted from the depths; like burnt smolders of paper, seething, came the vectors. Such lovely moths. Beautiful metamorphosis married biochemistry. Paralytic liquid secreted as wings unfurled, dried to dust, dispersed during gyroscopic flight.

Nearby, recess bells marked the beginning.

jKb

FRIDAYFictoneerPrompt-FAUCET

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/05/06/8-may-2015/

This prompt was from our MadisonWoods days. How far has this group come, anyway?

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, make a deal.

Here’s my contribution:

The Salesman

“It’s finished.”

“Will it work?”

“Just like I explained. After the pot’s done bubbling just drain it into this here metal bucket, then start the fire.”

“And the hose for the colder.”

“It’s called the ‘chiller’.”

“And what comes out will be pure shine?”

“Virgin pure.”

“Can’t thank you enough.”

“Sure you can.”

“How much do I owe ya?”

“I don’t want your money. I’ve got money.”

“Then what?”

“Payment due in full. Upon delivery.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Your daughter. Or, your wife. You choose.”

jKb

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/04/08/10-april-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, see what lurks beyond the secret door.

Here’s my contribution:

Beyond The Secret Door

“When Marshal’s guys rolled the car back so the electrician could access the relay station underneath, some stones from the back wall collapsed in.”

Sheriff Shoemacher swung his finger like he was stealing a taste of cake batter. “Not that way.” The deputy climbed down into the 5-foot square hole which housed the circuitry. He directed his flashlight beam into a dark recess which traveled beneath the old Red Caboose Museum and platform on which the Sheriff was standing. “That way.”

Shoemacher circled to the far side of the hole. In the shadowy depths of the recess was a door.

jKb

FFF Prompt david-stewart

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/03/25/27-march-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. This fellow rolled in to town when the Carnival of Screams appeared. Come, witness The Smith and all that he can be.

Here’s my contribution:

The Smith Comes

Allen rests his bones upon the Post Office stoop, metal tool box upon his thighs, scraggy grays tied back into something that resembles a wet rat. He wriggles his nose and samples the crowd. He awaits Mrs. Right, or Mr.–Allen’s an open-minded opportunist. With feminine, surgically nimble, and overly ring-adorned phalanges he twirls errant whiskers. His beady eyes and highly attuned nose identifies her from within the docile masses. Mrs. Right is distracted on her phone, she’s arguing, her left fist is clenched yet it sparkles, dazzles. Allen slides open a metal draw retrieving his most precious instrument.

jKb

FFF Prompt rachel-bjerke

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/03/18/20-march-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction.

I wonder if they ever looked in the fountain.

Come, tell me if you can hear it too.

Here’s my contribution:

Listen

“It happened in a wooded area very near here,” Trish continued her tale, treading deeper into the woodland, a string of small children ambling in her wake.

“What happened, Ms. Trish?”

“The story goes that seven year-old Tessa was drawn into the woods by a life-sized raggedy doll. Her brother Jeremy saw it too, peeking around trees, smiling at her with stitched mouth and button eyes. It was calling to her and waving to follow.”

“Then what?”

“She went off down a trail like this one. Jeremy said he could hear talking just ahead.”

“What was that?”

“Shhhh.”

“Listen.”

Come!

jKb

FFF PROMPT frost-on-a-stump-sandra-crook

 

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/03/11/13-march-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. I tried for about 3 minutes to restrain myself to 100 words this week. Some stories resist control. Anyway, hope you enjoy. And do come in from the cold.

Here’s my contribution:

Eight Years Old

I first noticed my shine when I was just a wee little girl. I had this stuffed bunny, Isabella, Izzy for short, and I’d drag her ‘round with me wherever I’d go. Just the two of us, an inseparable pair. Bobby, my older brother, he’s long gone now, but Bobby didn’t much care for my liking of Izzy. So, on a hot August afternoon, when Ma was at the grocery and Pa was off working or fornicating with Ms. Mabel, or maybe just getting drunk, I don’t much recall that part, but I do remember Bobby had made off with Izzy and ran away faster than I could out into the deep part of the yard. I watched as, in one motion, Bobby lopped off Izzy’s head with ma’s sewing shears and tossed her, body and head, off into the woods that lined the property. I can still see through the eyes of a five-year-old as Izzy’s cotton guts stretched and became tangled on some branches. I shrieked. Bobby, he laughed and laughed. That’s when I felt the cold chill come over me. Well, it was more like it emanated ‘from’ me. Things started to frost over and wilt as it spread like spilt milk. I cried and shuddered and choked on tears and snot and the cold spread faster and faster. Poor Bobby. Poor, poor Bobby.

jKb

FFF Prompt grapevine2bgoo1

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/08/27/29-august-2014/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, let me ask you. How’s your bones?

This bit is a teaser for something I’ve been working on.

Here’s my contribution:

Seekanauk

His jaw ached and two ribs were certainly cracked. Bradley swung his feet onto the wide-planked pine and sat at the bed edge. All for a girl, he thought feeling his nose. The pain was worse in his sinuses but he couldn’t recall the impacts, just voices, a sucker-punch from the side, and then cold salt-flat mud. He’d been thrown from the dock and left for dead but the rising tide had roused him. And now, as he looked upon his battered reflection there was a tickle, and he saw, what was that, a crab leg wriggling into his nostril?

jKb

FFF Prompt  parked

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/08/20/22-august-2014/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, tell us your hopes and dreams.

Here’s my contribution:

Target Practice

Dale’s head rumbled like the five pin on the last frame when everything was on the line. And everything was on the line. Bank took the house and Cherri ran off with the kids and the dog while he was swapping oil filters at the shop. He knew she’d be gone, too. She’d become quiet and cold and hell if she hadn’t voted for this guy with his hope and change. Dale squinted off the shards of light coming through the windshield of his new living arrangement and eyed a bumper sticker. Just politics he thought and squeezed the trigger.

jKb