Flash Fiction

Old Sparky

Friday Fictioneers is a writing challenge hosted by the talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Writers from near and far use the photo prompt provided to create a 100 word piece of fiction. Click the frog below this post to add your own story and check out everyone’s submissions.


Copyright Ted Strutz

“Don’t plug the damn thing in!” Riley screamed as he jumped out of the contraption nearly fumbling the instruction manual, and, truth be told, almost soiling his uniform.

Right now he missed Old Sparky, so easy to use and plenty of life left in him.

“Oh, sorry Boss” was all that his very own Barney Fife could say as he stood there daydreaming with the cord still too close to the juice for Riley’s liking. “Put that down. We aren’t there yet!”. “Once we’re ready to practice, I’ll let you know”.

“Boss, will I get to say ‘Dead man walking’?”

Flash Fiction

Ignorance and Bliss

This was written for Monday’s Finish the Story challenge. 100-150 word limit starting with “She was unaware she was being watched..” and using the photo prompt for inspiration.


Copyright – Barbara W. Beacham

She was unaware she was being watched, no coveted, by those fierce, golden orbs. That which would end her, hidden and waiting. It was probably for the best. Given an option of knowing or not knowing she always said she would choose the former and did. Always safe in the certain. Ignorance of what would be finally allowed her to live fully, even if briefly. Terror and the stabbing pain of her organs trying to win the race could have been the last thing she felt. Instead, as she navigated her way through the final minutes of beats and breath without a compass, nothing but bliss.

Flash Fiction

Remember When

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction Challenge.  200ish words of fiction based on the photo prompt:




Nostalgia immediately stirred her senses, making her happy and sad all at once. Her mouth watered as the tang of fresh baked sourdough hit her taste buds, reminding her of the warm little shop that used to be just a short bicycle ride from her home. Her toes wiggled, remembering how the cold edge of the shoehorn tickled her heal as it guided her foot into those loafers she coveted as a 6th grader. What ever happened to that nice man in his suit and tie who, after helping her on with the shoes, had watched her walk back and forth across his store, confirming that the fit was just right? Her eyes stung as she remembered shopping with her mother. The plan they followed didn’t begin and end with a single massive purveyor staffed with strangers. It required more thoughtfulness. “Mr. Selby sponsors your brother’s baseball team, so we’ll get the potroast at his butcher shop” her mother would tell her as they developed their route. Community and connectedness mattered more to her mother than the time it took to make multiple stops. As she stepped into that bookstore and smelled it’s glorious mustiness she thought “Sorry Amazon, we’re through.”

Flash Fiction


Every Friday writers from near and far are challenged to create a 100 word fiction story from a photo prompt. If you’d like to join in the fun, get all the details here: Friday Fictioneers. Click the frog at the end of my post to see other stories from this week’s challenge and to add your own.

antique boat

Copyright – Georgia Koch

Deep cracks in sun crisped lips now constantly taunted him with the tickle of moisture. His tongue couldn’t stay away from them no matter how many times it returned only their metallic disappointment. His bones ached as the weathered hardwood that would most certainly become his coffin dented and dispersed his increasingly tender and unresponsive flesh. He knew that he had earned this. How many days or weeks had it been since he abandoned them along with his integrity and solemn oath? The vast,shoreless blue surrounding him provided no answer. It only whispered over and over “down with the ship”.

Flash Fiction

Memory Surfer

Entry for Micro Bookends 1.14 challenge.  The story must be between 90 and 110 words, start with peace,end with prize and incorporate the photo prompt.

microbookends 1.14

Photo credit: Aaron Gilson

(110 words)

“Peace? “How can you possibly believe she is at peace?” I ask my relatives of the extended kind, interrupting their analysis of the mental waves that the body they once knew as a cousin was riding. What their limited appearances didn’t allow them to know is that the ebb into limbs with less dramatic angles and a quieter mind is always followed by a dramatic and painful flow back to the shore of her new normal. The caregiver who now needs constant care.  The mother who is now the child. The life of the party who is now the wallflower. Being swept out to sea for good, that’s her prize.