Posts Tagged ‘crazy’

FFF Prompt demolition-4

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/2015/08/19/21-august-2015/

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

Come, celebrate with the birthday boy.

Here’s my contribution:

The Artist’s Method

The crimson plume had nearly scorched off Oscar’s face. He rubbed thumb and forefinger across his brow and giggled.

I’ve been a naughty boy!

He peeked above the parapet as sirens warbled. Oscar was so excited he thought he might pee himself, so he twisted it closed. And giggled again. He thought about the mother screaming when she found her bound daughter. Oscar had smashed her head with of all things a frying pan, blew out the pilot and turned on the burners, then quickly lit a birthday candle on the far end of the apartment before making his wish.

jKb

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FFF Prompt THE WORK BENCH still-life-with-doug

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/2014/10/15/17-october-2014/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, it’s gonna be a blast.

Here’s my contribution:

Deep Seeded

Everything has its place, thought Mitch Winkle, precisely arranging the items on his work bench, careful to rotate and align and to not knock into anything. There was no room for clumsiness.

Wouldn’t want a mess, now. Shouldn’t spill. He heard his mother’s voice, chastising.

He was particularly careful of the Semtex filled glass bottle with the sensitive mercury switch.

Nothing is random. Just another random thought which seeped in? “No,” he answered himself. Then, “Yes,” the internal struggle.

Mitch retrieved his map, spread it upon the table, and blindly poked a finger down. “Huh, Bristleburg Farmer’s Market it is.”

jKb

bjc3b6rn-15

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/2014/04/23/25-april-2014/

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

Here’s my contribution:

The Set Back

Marco ran his arpeggiation with learned alacrity, the tones so delicious that Gerald found he had ceased his accompaniment and was simply savoring the effect. With no hint of arthritic hindrance, Marco plucked away, eyes closed, head slightly canted, lilting along with a subtle curl to his lips.

It is true, music does soothe the savage, and in this fleeting moment Gerald was placated. Not a slip in nearly thirty evenings. But for all his strength Gerald’s will was weakening. And those lips curving, smug, pompous–was Marco laughing? The rhythm of Marco’s nodding head said yeeesssss.

Laughing.

At you!

jKb