Posts Tagged ‘water’

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

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

monsters-dmm

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/2014/04/16/18-april-2014/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, but you mustn’t shut your eyes.

Here’s my contribution:

Don’t Even Blink

The word nightmare is not entirely accurate, not for everybody. Sure, most people experienced episodes during their sleeping hours and just occasionally, when the waves of stress and hormone fluctuations comingled with exhaustion, when your ambient subconscious defenses were fatigued, so said the professional literature.

But for Britney the situation was different. Her episodes, quite frankly, were less dependent upon the parameters suggested by research and science. All Britney need do was shut her eyes and they came, a rising wave enveloping you and lifting you off your toes then sucking you under, a wave which couldn’t be out run.

jKb

 

As an aside, I envisioned this child trying to keep her eyes open, the lubrication of her cornea thickening to a cataract, then her lid scraping and drooping toward closure, and dark things begin to leap at her from the shadows, not just from the corners of the room or from the closet or from beneath her bed but from the shadows of her very eyelashes, things she can just momentarily see as her lids drift lower, then there is a rapidly rising shriek, a sound probably only audible to her own ears. She jerks her head up and snaps it back and her eyes pop open. The dark things abate. The terrible sounds of the coming recede to a white hum like that which resides inside a conch shell. She sticks her fingers into the raw flesh of her eyes, she rubs.

Then it presses in again.

adamickes-boardwalk

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/2014/03/12/14-march-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 time to collect.

Here’s my contribution:

His Due

Brackish water swelled on the coming tide, choking the river basin, black as the moonless night, and full of dark terrors. Emory settled into his wooden chaise-longue at the dock termination, and closed his eyes. He breathed deeply the thick, humid night, tasted the salt and decay, and reveled in his remembrance of that long ago St. Augustine night. He recalled the clinging dress, the slow gyrations of her sinful hips, sweat beads like diamonds upon her neck and breasts, her full and hungry lips, and the jazz so sultry. He still owed that debt and how Ol’ Tick thirsted.

jKb

 These widgets have not been my friend. Just don’t seem to want to link up and work. Sorry.

FFF Prompt SpringHouse

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/2014/01/22/24-january-2014/

 

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, and you’ll need a shovel.

 

Here’s my contribution:

 

The Spring House

 

Trace toiled by hand and with the assistance of his mule, Gerald. While excavating the water source and preparing the ground for a stone foundation the mountainside wall dissolved revealing a deeper hollow.

 

Having retrieved his flashlight, Trace leaned inward exploring the darkness. Not ten feet away from his outstretched arm and previously concealed within the depths of the mountain was something huge, seemingly metallic based on how the light danced upon the surface, with a subtle curve, which his single light source could not fully expose.

 

Trace pushed through the opening and approached the strange thing.

 

What the hell?

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

 

FFF prompt ROOM with a view

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/2014/01/08/10-january-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, enjoy a night in The Room With A View.

Here’s my contribution:

The Room With A View

The warden simply said, “you’ve won the lottery, Nolley. Parole came through.”

Nolley peeled a faded photo from the wall, tucked it inside his breast pocket, then offered his bare wrists to receive the iron manacles beginning his out-processing. He was guided through several doors, down a long corridor, then out an external passage to a soggy, sandy expanse.

The surf churned hungrily.

Your room with a view.” Upon an obviously man-made boulder sat a single, barnacle-covered cell.

Haven’t noticed this from the yard.”

Yea, Can’t see it at high tide, and she’s a comin’ in.”

jKb

FFF Prompt dolphin_01

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/2013/12/18/20-december-2013/

FidayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, let me swallow you up.

Sea-Glass Succubus

Nana had fashioned the window using discards gathered from the world’s seas and shorelines, each glass fragment part of another’s life: a dream, a love, a wound. Such a varied conglomerate became something bewitching to gaze upon and as Nicole fathomed the depths captured therein she noticed the frosted surface becoming more fluid. She peered closer and the glass began to ripple, then swirl, as if beckoning and almost on command Nicole extended a curious finger toward the pool. The touch was slippery and warm and grew more and more pleasurable as she was drawn ever deeper, inch by inch.

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

 

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/2013/07/31/2-august-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, bob with me. I’ll be here all weekend.

Here’s my contribution:

And Then It Rained

Lounging upon a floating donut, Walter basked as the noon sun pinked his body. At the pool’s edge awaited another tall-boy, his fourth. He had two goals: become totally shit-faced and save any critters from his private ocean. With his hands-of-gawd he’d delivered them unto land, Salvation!, then observed. His latest saved, a soaked honey-bee, appeared drowned.

Such a pity.

He pulled from his can oblivious to the drone’s recovery, erratic flight and sudden injection of venom into his cheek.

A clutch seized Walter’s throat.

Ungrateful.

He sunk into his bobbing tube.

Day to night, night to day, Walter remained.

jKb