FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~I Pray You Sing (A Letter From Rachel)~

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/2015/08/05/7-august-2015/

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

Come, let your body rest before you begin your next fantastic journey.

This, from May 2012.

Here’s my contribution:

I Pray You Sing (a letter from Rachel)

Dearest Mother,

I’m sorry. I haven’t always been easiest or prettiest and certainly I’ve let you down. Please understand, I’ve been angry. Children can be. So I ran.

Laying here, grasses crushed beneath, I wonder, can I still feel? Soothing sun. Coaxing breeze. Branches sway. Naked. As I am. Unblinking, imagining our world whole, yet, color fades, Mother, shudder, my heart stops.

Now, I traverse this awakening of permanent sleep, my understanding greater, my love for you ever deeper.

Left me here. Alone.

Cry for me not, Mother. I pray you sing, for I am coming Home.

Ever yours,

Rachel

jKb

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FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~What I Can Offer~

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/2014/09/10/12-september-2014/

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

Here’s my contribution:

What I Can Offer

“Nothing is forever, dear. Not even love.” The elder mistress comforted and soothed as she turned him toward the mirror. She kissed his neck and caressed his sex. “She’s left, but oh what I can offer.” He gazed upon the image and witnessed her back and shoulders were straighter, her hair somehow fuller, her eyes regained a glow long since dissipated. She pulled against him, urgently pressing the fullness of her breasts against his back. And as her image flickered and faded she sank deep and tasted her youthful ecstasy, hot and salty and filling her mouth, feeding her lust.

jKb

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~Till Death Do Us Part~

I’ve been MIA and have no good excuse. I actually do but it’s a secret. Enough of that, let’s just get on with it, shall we?

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/2014/08/13/15-august-2014/

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

Here’s my contribution:

Till Death Do Us Part

Wick gathered the necessary: charred bones, tar, pitch, water. Parts when combined produced ink.

There were also variations to the formula, modifications which were designed to achieve desired results. For instance he could substitute water with tears to produce sorrow, or semen for love, or blood for, well, blood.

Of all these Wick had learned.

To complete this enchantment and thus set the snare Wick need only breathe the words of his desire across the drying ink, then deliver his impregnated letter.

He composed his confession of love, and as he did, he whispered of release. And of sweet death.

jKb

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~Lover’s Knotty Tree~

This prompt brought forth a story many of you have already read. It was placed into Madison Woods’ Anthology and selected as the Editor’s Pick. If you are unfamiliar with the publication here is the link:

http://www.amazon.com/1-x-50-100-ebook/dp/B00GU57UWA

I remember writing this story very specifically. My family and I had just finished with a research trip disguised as a vacation to Maine. So beautiful. I was typing notes into my laptop while sipping a thick cup of coffee on my couch. I flipped over to see the prompt for the week and this story fell on me like an avalanche.

So I say thank you to MadisonWoods for all her work.

She passed the torch to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields to whom I’d also like to say thank you for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/06/25/27-june-2014-summer-rerun-ii/

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

Here is my contribution:

Lover’s Knotty Tree

Seamus gouged letters into the body of the behemoth, his blade old but capable, swiped from the tool shed. Digging, twisting, he outlined with a heart, deepened the grooves, declared his love for Ginny.

He whistled.

He smiled.

He whittled away.

The outstretched arms above shivered as if capturing some invisible breath. Seamus, still working his knife, peered upward.  Leaves spiraled.

Seamus’ world trembled.

The tree groaned, arose, a bleeding heart pulsing on the sleeve of bark. Dirt and rocks flung high, roots poised like octopus tentacles.

A hush.

Seamus stumbled, fell. The giant pounced.

Horrid shrieks echoed through the woodlands.

jKb

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~A Gift~

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. And, a double thanks for this prompt which gave me such joy as I read through years of twisted postings. But back to it…you can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/06/18/18-june-2014-summer-rerun/

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

Here’s my contribution from back when:

A Gift

Boards long since pried from window casings, no longer barred entrance. Through the portal, shafts of moonlight pierced darkness, an opaline pool glimmered amidst abandoned filth. Therein, upon that stage, a pristine chair, wooden, hand-tooled, polished to high luster, iridescent in majesty.

Another gift from mother. A baleful reminder of lessons administered.

Beside awaited a sleeping candle and sooted spoon. Glazed eyes surveilled, the impotent King approached, claimed again his stony throne. Flame melted rock, barrel loaded, leather-belt secured with teeth.

Plunger depressed.

A blissful sigh.

An utterance as veiled death flooded his veins.

“Happy Mother’s Day.”

jKb

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~In Good Faith~

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/2014/05/28/30-may-2014/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, just don’t try to sell me something.

Most of this is true, except where it is not.

Here’s my contribution:

In Good Faith

Entirely sober, more or less, and enjoying a read involving the demise of a fellow named Barlow when I was interrupted by three lovely stalkers from St. John the Evangelist. They endeavored to explain Jesus loves me and wants me to attend their church so that I may be saved.

Me?

Their faded late model sedan is still sitting with its wheel turned to the curb, their broken bodies are neatly stowed in the root cellar along with several pamphlets promising everlasting life, and now I’m sweaty, thirsty and in need of a shower.

I pray their faith wasn’t false.

jKb

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~If Only It Were A Dream~

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/2014/05/21/23-may-2014/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, join us, we are wide awake, and dreaming.

Here’s my contribution:

If Only It Were A Dream

My fever had lifted. At first light I left the coolness of my sheets to venture outdoors thinking fresh air would revive my soul. The scent of damp earth, the chortle of morning birds, dewy grasses licking my ankles, tickling sunlight upon my cheeks, all sensations of joy and living, yet all were unattainable.

Today there stood a fence, foreign to me, extending beyond my sight and which was certainly designed to contain. But what? I glanced down. In one hand was a can, the other a thick dripping brush, and it was clotted red.

From above a blackbird mocked.

jKb

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~ Not What You’re Thinking ~

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/2014/05/14/16-may-2014/

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

Here’s my contribution:

Not What You’re Thinking

The heat was high, the day long, and the night would be even longer. Willy minded his control panel and his lazy eye gazed across the grounds as the gate opened. The flood of prospects spilled into his world.

He swallowed his welling saliva with savoring anticipation.

Willy hadn’t shaved, hadn’t even bathed in two days but he paid it no mind because here they came, these bewitchers, each manicured to perfection, so fresh and nubile. He felt that little tingle and his mind drifted to pleasures and lust and pain and screams.

Yes, tonight would be a good night.

 jKb

Two nights prior Nightshade’s Carnival of Screams had rolled into this very quaint Virginian town. With this carnival comes worse horrors than ‘ol Willy. He’s quite a docile soul when things are right. Mostly he takes tickets and smiles and operates the spinning cups. But like many, he is darker in some places, deeper place, secret places. I think you’re putting the pieces together. So, it’s not what you were thinking. It’s way, way worse.

 

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~Wick Whispers~

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/2014/04/30/2-may-2014/

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

Here’s my contribution:

Wick Whispers

Her honed blade easily divided meat and sinew from the gelatinous yellow fat, the result of sickening gluttony. She hummed as she toiled, tossing chunks into the heavy cast pot set upon a rendering flame. The mass would consume several hours before uniformly liquefying which afforded Marta opportunity to arrange her wicks and embellish the simple glass jars with her signature label, Spirit Essence Votive. These were her best sellers for how the melted wax seemed to stretch and reach and some clients would talk of wick whispers.

Marta understood.

Each votive contained a secret ingredient which yearned for escape.

jKb

 

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY ~Coffee and Cream~

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/2014/02/26/28-february-2014/

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

Here’s my contribution:

Coffee and Cream

How the village has changed, thought Ripley, as he peered between the drapes of his attic apartment. He rocked and reminisced and stroked the luxurious fur of Cheryl, his long-time companion. Ripley had done his life’s work here, he’d left his mark for certain. And if he hadn’t, surely Marcus, his protégé, would ensure the townsfolk would remember, would believe. It was nearing breakfast, Marcus was due to return and share the previous night’s haunts, the enchanting, the seduction turned to taunting, the welling fear, the terror of realization, stifled screams and penetrating thrusts, labored breaths, the sensuous final beat.

jKb

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