Flash Fiction

An Audition to Remember

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.

garden-maze

Copyright – Melanie Greenwood

I seem to be seeing the brain, specifically my mom’s brain, in every challenge lately.

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Her thoughts and movements were like a troupe of actors reinventing themselves, weaving through the maze of roles that were new and more difficult to them. Their greeness kept her trapped in a maddening script of continuous wrong turns. Lefts pretended to be rights and rights swore they were lefts.¬†She shuffled and bumped into the shadowed corners of their stage, stuck until the faint memory shone through and illuminated her mark, briefly. When darkness returned, as it would today, tomorrow, and always, rehearsal began again. She’d practice, not knowing the curtain would fall before she ever perfected her part.

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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.

electricity

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’?”

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Flash Fiction

Wrecked

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”.

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Flash Fiction

What To Do About Her?

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.

 

courtyard

He had lived on their periphery long enough and they were well aware that he required starkness, sameness. Neutrality kept his mind quiet and them safe. They knew this. It must have been her, in 1B. The one who greeted him with bigger volume and enthusiasm everytime they passed in the hall, convincing herself that he just hadn’t heard her the last 10 times. It had to be her. Her blood red buds were creating a cacophony in his head, just like she did, and they tore a hole in the beautiful gray tapestry of his courtyard. What to do about her?

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Flash Fiction

Unthink and Begin

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.

route 66

Copyright – Jean L. Hays

“Ha!” He didn’t know where that had come from really. It escaped his lungs the way air from the hose at a gas station does when making the PSI just right, sounding as if the H should have been replaced by a P, or, at the very least, preceded by one. The signs made him do it and now they couldn’t be unseen. How many times had he come to a crossroads only to turn and look behind him for guidance? Countless. No more. These signs couldn’t be ignored. They were begging him to begin. Start anew. Unthink what’s been.

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