Posts Tagged ‘sky’

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

 

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FFF prompt goats_and_graves_3_randy_mazie

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/2013/07/10/12-july-2013/  

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

Here’s my contribution:

Cometh The Gruff

Reap arrived on a cool breeze, accompanied by a looming harvest moon pregnant with Mother Earth’s bounty. As was tradition, the town-folk opened their coffers to celebrate. The folks dressed in their finest; the children wore masks and paint. Music played and rhymes sung, all the while the feast was being prepared in the town square.

There, a pit was dug, and the well-seasoned iron spit erected.

The lottery jar passed from child to child and numbered stones were drawn, each pull rewarded with a treat.

Then his number was drawn and the air suddenly thickened.

Oh, how he hungered.

jKb

FLASHFICTIONFRIDAY PROMPT WATERTOWER

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/2013/07/03/5-july-2013/

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

Much thanks to Mr. Bradbury, I feel like a thief.

Here’s my contribution:

Carnival Of Screams

It was from this vantage, high up where the belly of the water tower only yesterday marked the town of Bristleburg, five teens had climbed to watch the sun dissolve behind the Blue Ridge. The cork pop of the dandelion wine seemed to bring forth a queer gurgling of engines and mechanical music. These children bore witness as the Nightshade Carnival of Screams arrived.

The top hat man who’d called himself James was festooned in ink and knots of scarred tissue. Despite the appearance, his velvety voice soothed and beckoned, aroused and titillated the town-folk.

He’d charmed them all.

Almost.

jKb

FLASHPROMPT Said The Moon  copyright-managua-gunn

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/2013/06/19/1328/

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

Here’s my contribution:

Asked The Moon

Twice they had come.

The first was a seven year voyage through high seas of youthful inexperience. Positioned perfectly, they were, yet were merely passing vessels. How the fates laughed.

The second was some years thereafter, within a common port, a reprieve from the wear of traveler’s lives. Their hands and hearts touched, minds met, holiness recognized, and they held tightly, shuddering, but their grip did necessarily slip as circumstances dictated.

Again, that fated laughter.

Will there be a third?” asked the moon. “Will armor be worn or will vulnerability and the tender heart prevail?”

The stars remained ever silent.

jKb



FlashFictionPrompt aqueduct-sarah-ann-hall

I lay in bed, reading a long lost friend. No. Nothing like that, not really. That sounds too fantastic, too contrived. I missed some modern greats in my youth for I was doing other than reading. What I was doing was living (something we forget all too often). I was by the sword which was a guitar and all that came with. Never the less, there I was not minutes ago, book in hand, two sheets to the wind, the courthouse tower ringing out the hour only steps away, and this thought would not settle, damn it, for all I wanted was to learn what the Gunslinger would do next and enjoy my sweet buzz. Someone (thing) was speaking. Get up you fool, the voice said. Not the first time in my life, I might add. And I know this voice, we’ve become enemies of a sort because I’m stubborn and don’t play by the conventions. But tonight I was moved, so I ventured down through narrow passage lighted by street torches beyond, fumbled the cork and poured, and then powered up the old faithful. So here I now sit, upon a bar stool, with a freshly poured Cab, pecking at the keys. By the time one reads this the cab will be dry and my neighbors might know my level of apnea induced by reds and pollen. Fair well and fear appropriately, my friends.

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/2013/05/15/17-may-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, sneak a peek inside, what wonders you shall behold.

Here’s my contribution:

What Truth Awaits?

She fled through the window which once framed everything wonderful. Down the blossom covered trellis, her escape made.

Could hate be love deceived?

Twelve.

Mustn’t there be other?

Beyond white pickets and onward, nigh three crush petals and scattered memories, she ran, guided by the only lover she would ever know.

A prying light.

Another fence.

This iron, a barrier inward or out she cared not. She climbed, leaped. She crouched seeking shadow’s shelter.

In silvering moonlight she could just see the grid upon which she now stood, then, something moved. Nearby, a hungry grinding began to chew the earth.

jKb



FLASHFICTIONPROMPT Library by claire-fuller

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/2013/04/24/26-april-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, sneak a peek inside, what wonders you shall behold.

Here’s my contribution:

Keep-safe

“A jewelry box?” Dor queried descending the library ladder.

“Of a kind. Go ahead, open it.” Dor obliged, then softly cooed. The interior was lined in deep red velvet, an inlaid mirror adorned the hinged lid. Nana relished the child’s awe. “Tell me, Dor. What do you see?”

“A home for my bracelets! But the mirror, it looks like a stormy sky.”

“It’s my Keep-safe box, Dor, which is now yours. Whatever you place inside stays locked away; safe forever. However, you mustn’t ever place something inside without which you cannot live.”

“I don’t understand?”

“It contains secrets, my dear.”



A bit more of a tease…. 

“When you have a secret that requires extra safe keeping, something that needs to disappear, you turn the key to the right two times, until it clicks, then open the lid and put your secret inside.” Dor’s expression made Nana think of what a Picasso meant to capture bewilderment must look like. “This is very important, child. Turn the key to the right, two times, until it clicks. You must always turn the key to the right.”

“Why ‘always to the right’?”

“Sugar, we wouldn’t want these kinds of secrets escaping.”

jKb

ShannonOldroyd Orange Skies Of New Jersey

What is the purpose of your art?

Time to share.

A friend from years past made a social media posting that essentially stated ‘The first five people who respond to this post will receive a free piece of my art.’ I was instantly struck by her generosity. The gist was that the recipients should then bare the responsibility to pay it forward, and so on.

The great ripple effect had begin.

My problem was I wasn’t one of the five. Story of my life. I responded anyway. I mean, why not? I risked nothing in doing so. In fact, by even giving my response I was letting her know her reach and influence was broader than she anticipated. She soon responded back that I too could participate.

That was a few weeks ago, the pact was nearly forgotten, until I heard the sound of dogs barking, which is the sound that accompanies the approaching mailman each day. Wise as he is, he walks the neighborhood with a pocket full of dog treats.

Who knew this day would not be like each other? It sounded very much the same.

Hanging from the mouth of the mailbox just outside my front door was a special delivery. Enclosed inside the cushioned mailer pouch was a 3 inch square painted canvas mounted on a wooden frame and, something from a lost era, a handwritten note. These blessings arrived yesterday.

I am completely moved by the thought, the effort, the freely shared energy, the connection.

Being who I am and having the limited gifts that I do, I was motivated to write a flash of fiction based on her art, and then share with all of you and invite you to perhaps continue her experiment in some fashion.

In a complete abuse of the #FridayFictioneers I’ve tagged and linked (and hope Rochelle appreciates and understands; the story does however fit with this weeks prompt) so that you all might take this gem and toss your own art-sharing-pebble.

After all, what are we striving for anyway?

The copyright on this art belongs to S.O.

So, here we go. My contribution:

Where The Crow Roosts

Soft footfalls upon layered molderings, careless boney whispers between leafless trees, these the witnesses to the broken man’s burden as he trudged, ever onward, driven by a need for simple answers, for self discovery and a truth of his own, or perhaps for something broader, more absolute.

And a key; not something crafted of iron, but an understanding.

A rusted throaty utterance halted his progression, interrupted his brooding. Refocused, he immediately recalled this place and what he had done. And as an iridescent form settled among the boughs above, he understood this place would hold importance for him yet again.

jKb



FLASHFICTIONFRIDAY Bronze Sculpter

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

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. See if you can’t swallow the truth almong the chunks of fiction.

Here’s my contribution:

Cleansing

Upon a rubber mat, before the copper effigy of her teacher, SungHe floated through yogi poses seeming to defy the forces of nature and gravity. An increasing rain failed to dissuade onlookers, mesmerized by her beauty and grace; she swam through poses as a jellyfish rides the currents of the sea.

While her body flowed she spoke, as with ancient authority, of Mankind returning to nature, needing to cleanse their souls.  She bid them join hands.

The sky darkened, the air thickened with ozone.

One of the linked reached out to behold the power pulsing within the effigy, as instructed.

jKb



FLASHFICTIONFRIDAY UNITED AIRWAYS RICH VOZA

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/2013/02/06/8-february-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, let’s fly. Just don’t look down.

Langoliers anyone?

Here’s my contribution:

Twilight Race

It continued in relentless pursuit, like some inexhaustible force, just coming, so hungry, getting bigger, brighter, chewing up the following horizon.

Our ship was refueled, my arms full of whatever provisions I could scavenge as we reembarked.

Prepare for departure.” The box crackled. “We’ve put on a little distance. With any luck we’ll make Hawaii.”

The captain ignited the engines, pointed the nose westward, and accelerated down the uneven macadam, running yet another leg of this twisted twilight race.

Or, we get torched when it catches us,” I muttered. “Fuckit, I always wanted to see Hawaii.”

jKb



FlashFictionFriday Globe and Laptop

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/2012/12/12/14-december-2012/

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

Here’s my contribution:

Say Goodbye

She’s a beaut, he thought, setting his torch down. With lover’s lips he blew on the cooling joint. His device was finally assembled.

Ratchet checked the laptop then eyed the soft cumuli.

“It’s time” flashed upon the screen with a ping.

The cylinder hissed cold on Ratchet’s palm as he torqued it to the armed position. He reassured himself this was the only way to limit the infection. Yes, the chemistry posed concerns, but the side-effects were purportedly within biological tolerances.

He released the contraption and watched it drift higher as something thicker than tears began to clot his vision.

jKb