flash fiction

Jar of Happiness

/ Dee / 14 Comments

Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for continuing Friday Fictioneers.  You can read more stories from other  Fictioneers here.

Image courtesy of Sean Fallon

The boy stands anxiously in line

Money clutched tightly in his hand

As one by one a box is taken from the pile on the counter

And handed to a mother, sister, grandfather, brother, father

He has none of these.

Nearing the front, he leans forward and tries to see if there is one for him

Then a brightly coloured jar catches his eye

It is full of cars, trains, planes and robots

Tucking it under his arm, he walks out smiling

His guardian waits to take him back to the home

Back to where the old toys are cheering

 

Danger from above

/ Dee / 13 Comments

The whitewashed walls reflected the sun’s glare. Alice adjusted her sunglasses.

Small stones skittered and bounced down a wall then, with a wail, a boy landed at her feet. He was small, dirty and frightened; Alice saw blood running down his left leg. She took off her rucksack, pulling out a bottle of water and some tissue.  She bathed his leg while he stared defiantly up at her. A battered car screeched to a halt, Alice stared in disbelief as the driver pulled out a gun. She screamed as a shot rang out. Pocketing his gun the boy hobbled away.

 

Thanks to Jan Morrill for the photograph and to Madison Woods for “Friday Fictioneers”. http://www.madison-woods.com/Wordpress/index-of-stories/101212-2/

 

 

Gran’s Angel

/ Dee / 19 Comments

We argue about him, Billy and me. Billy laughs, says there’s no such things as angels but I tell him not to be so stupid, course there are I tell him, says so in The Bible.

He’s been in the park for ever, well longer than my gran can remember and she’s old. We’re lucky to have him she says, he was brought from under the sea, from a shipwreck and there isn’t another like him in the whole world, my gran says.

Gran took very ill, we all went round and stood by her bed.

Billy’s wrong about angels.

 

(Thanks to Lora Mitchell for the photograph this week and to Madison Woods for the idea of Friday Fictioneers.  See other stories here http://madison-woods.com/index-of-stories/092112-2/ ) 

Friday Fictioneers – Cora’s Game

/ Dee / 20 Comments

Every web begins with a single thread.

Cora spun a fine line of flattery, compliments and praise that quickly got Ben’s attention

She set to work to help him with designs, never once criticising his obvious lack of ability

She drew him in with words of support when he lost a huge contract

Her admiration and intense feelings held him spellbound

Drinks after work led to dinner, presents and weekends away

Ben’s wife noticed the changes

His aftershave, his taste in music; lack of interest, lack of sex

Cora watched his life unravel, his wife leave, and closed the web

 

(Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for the photo prompt this week and Madison Woods  for “Friday Fictioneers”)

City Girl

/ Dee / 25 Comments

(thanks to Piya Singh for the photo)

The auction guide said 75,000; the place was almost a ruin it would take a lot of time and money to make it habitable.

Rose pouted, her Manolos were scratched, her hair a mess. Sam smiled, “could be beautiful” he said.

Rose glowered and thought of what she could buy with 75,000+

It would never be beautiful, she frowned, it was an old ugly mess. She was a city girl.

Sam took her arm and led her inside, showing her his plans for Rose Cottage.

Rose made the front cover of ‘Homes & Gardens.’

Smiling, looking beautiful.

 

Friday Fictioneers devised by Madison Woods http://madison-woods.com/blog/ 

Friday Fictioneers – Shrouded

/ Dee / 28 Comments

I reached the tree as the mist was crowding in. I found the slab and pulled it away, dragging the box out into the wet grass.

I saw the lock was intact. I reached for the key under the leather tag round my ankle. Their thorough body search had failed to find it. The pouch was there, the stones still inside. I took them, pushing the box back into its hiding place.

I heard them coming for me.  I slid over the wall into the ditch, covering myself with earth and moss.

The mist covered me; my shroud, my escape.

(Thanks to Maggie Duncan for the beautiful photograph)

This is something new for me. I like the challenge of 100 words.