Posts Tagged ‘Murder’

FFF Prompt Bridge trg3

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/2015/09/23/25-september-2015/

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

Come, have a taste.

Here’s my contribution:

Beggars Can’t Be Choosers

Those casual words, said as if rehearsed, spat so naturally. I looked up and watched your jowls quiver. As you belittled me you didn’t realize I was taking note of your face, the cut of your suit, the watch on your wrist, the click of your heels, your scent.

Later, your address.

You could have just dropped your coins into my cup, but no, you seasoned with insult. So now, as I pull up this string secured to your meaty hand and scoop up some beautiful blue-claws for dinner I chuckle as I think, ‘Does it taste just like chicken?’

jKb

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FFF Prompt on-on-off

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/2015/01/28/23-january-2015/

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

Here’s my contribution:

Blind-Date

“It’s painted black.”

“Yes, my play room.” Justine pressed all hundred-nine pounds against him and bit into his flesh. “You came here with a purpose, so let’s play.”

Benson exhaled both pain and pleasure; he grasped deeply into her dark curls then yanked. “That’s right, bitch.” He kissed her hard. She responded with tongue flicks before biting his lip. She shoved him back into a bolted down wooden chair.

He smiled, murderously.

Using Velcro straps she secured his wrists and ankles, then secured a blindfold. The final piece plugged directly into a rigged outlet and snugged over his head.

jKb

FFF Prompt campfire

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/2014/09/03/5-september-2014/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, you’ll never believe how hard 100-words can hit.

Here’s my contribution:

The Ballad of Jacob and Emma

The trek in was perfectly wonderful enhanced by the crispness of the day, the damp soil carpeted by moldering pine needles, and the beckoningly soft footfalls. He pitched their tent beside a burbling creek, set up the camp including a ring of rock and a romantic fire. Jacob could think of no better setting to make his proposal and Emma was his princess. He uncorked wine. He tuned his acoustic and strummed a serenade designed to enchant. Then, upon bent knee he pitched. Emma gave response. Without hesitation Jacob stood, instrument firmly in hand, and cut his most perfect swing.

jKb

FFF Prompt  antique-desk

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

FFF Prompt Gothic Arch jennifer-pendergast4

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

FFF PROMPT hay-bales-sandra-c

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

 Not sure why the code for my link hasn’t been working?

FFF Prompt Lamps

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

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/02/05/7-february-2014/

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

I resisted the urge to tell the story of Ms. Rebecca finding love at a yard sale while searching for an urn to house her late husband’s remains. Only because such a story would demand much more space.

Here’s my contribution:

What’s A Girl To Do?

 

During the last few weeks Miriam listened as Ms. Rebecca drifted in and out of lucidity. Miriam would clean or fold laundry or prepare meals as Ms. Rebecca regaled with suddenly vivid tales of great adventure, spelunking caves, crossing barren expanses within the belly of a dirigible, riding swells upon the high seas. At one point Ms. Rebecca grasped Miriam by the collar with incredibly strong hands, pulled her close upsetting the cat from her blanketed lap, and said, “The ship is sinking. Bring the ducats from inside the lamp. Then, save yourself!”

 

Miriam reached for the embroidered pillow.

jKb

Rising Water copyright-erin-leary

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

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/01/15/17-january-2014/

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

Here’s my contribution:

Hold Your Breath

The throbbing behind his eyes seemed to grow as the morning sun angled higher, partially concealed behind the haze of an early morning shower. The earth was soggy behind his matted hair and cold beneath his bound body. He struggled against the cord – something electrical, a wire of some sort he recollected through a haze of his own.

Pieces came together: a land deal and contaminated water. His vision focused on the muddy edge of the hole he was in. And then the water, it spilled over the edge.

It rose slowly.

It wet his body.

It filled his ears.

jKb

 

photo-88

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

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/10/16/18-october-2013/

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

Here’s my contribution:

What Lies Beneath

Albert Bunn, ankle deep, watched as a few percolations broke the surface, grew to a roiling effervescence, and finally when the submerged hollow collapsed into a momentary sink hole, smiled as that piece-of-shit-nuisance Sonneborn and his front page story were swallowed by the steadily rising water. Details of Bunn’s transgressions would be kept safe beneath the incoming 22 feet of reservoir water.

“Gets what he deserves.” Bunn spat into the now knee-deep drink then spun to affect his escape, still muttering pleasantries.

Several new streams of expanding bubbles assaulted the surface surrounding Bunn, the dirt bottom sucked at his boots.

jKb

 

FLASH PROMPT window-dressing-janet-webb

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

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/05/29/31-may-2013-2/

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

Here’s my contribution:

Heat Wave

A canyon breeze ruffled the many pleats and folds. This frock, the fifth identical so far, was purchased from the super store on the city bypass. Playfully displayed from the escape, an advertisement really, titillating others with hue and cut and flow.

Inside lounged a young lovely upon linoleum flooring, windpipe crushed, her only fault having unwittingly purchased this flirty number while Tanis observed.

And to think, there were seven more lovelies still admiring this dress in their bedroom mirrors.

This was going to be a busy but oh-so-fun week. Finally, something to take her mind off this blasted heat.

jKb