F is for Flash Fiction

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PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

It doesn’t look like much, does it?

The emptiness has replaced the commotion and people have no reason to come around anymore. When chatter about ripping it down started up, I was tormented with thoughts of our home going down with it.

We almost just up and left but here we stand – you, me, the trees and this vacant structure.

It’s kind of beautiful.

Listen to me and listen to me good, Son; when you need to fly, you fly. But, patience? That will take you places. I may be a bird, but oh for the things I’ve seen.


A-Z Challenge: Day Six

This was written in response to: Friday FictioneersThe objective is to challenge yourself to write a 100 word (or less) story that is influenced by a single photo. To read other submissions written for this photo, click HERE.

 

 

More Food Less Flowers

Most people females would be delighted at the sight of a huge bouquet of flowers awaiting their arrival.

Surprise!

They’d pick them up and proceed to bury their face into the overgrown blossoming buds, take an exaggerated whiff and end the transaction with a soft, pleasant smile. Me? I’d stand about 5 feet away, one eyebrow arched and wonder who they are supposed to be for; Brandin wouldn’t do that.

My husband enjoys the instant gratification of handing me flowers, besides… I’m not super keen on them. I’d rather have food; he knows snacks and treats are better than a bunch of flowers that are going to die (mostly because after the initial feeding of the white powder, I’ll never water them again). Worse yet, they’ll die and stay put in the vase longer than they should.

Food is just better.

These flowers, wildflowers, tulips, roses (which I dislike most of all)…however you’d like to picture them: go imagination crazy. There’s no card. No explanation of who they could be from or for?  I have to assume this hypothetical bouquet was left by mistake. If you’re leaving flowers with no correspondence attached, they are fair game…

…so, I’d take them and enjoy them.

The unfortunate thing is, every time I looked at them I’d wonder if some guy is bitter that his lady friend didn’t guess they were from him. He’s probably not wanting to mention it to the intended recipient in fear of coming across like a complete douchebag.

So, uh… you never said anything about the flowers.

Obviously it wasn’t done for the recognition – otherwise he would have left a card or hand delivered them! Who just leaves a bouquet of flowers sitting out with no direction? Seriously…what an idiot.

Later, in this hypothetical day I’m having, my husband would come home from work and I’d begin spouting off about what kind of a person leaves flowers with no card? I’d go on and on and on until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Then, I’d apologize because they were indeed from my husband and I ruined yet another surprise.

That is the story of our married life.


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Secret Admirers.”

[You return home to discover a huge flower bouquet waiting for you, no card attached. Who is it from — and why did they send it to you?]

Could Be Worse [Friday Fictioneers]

PHOTO PROMPT -© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
PHOTO PROMPT -© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

I knew this place would be a dump.

Be grateful there’s a place at all… sleep out in the rain if you want.

It’s not my fault we’re in this godawful situation, but her tone always implies otherwise.

I rested my unwashed head and couldn’t help but wonder if the overripe stench was me or this questionable pillow. Fighting it, my eyes shifted in the direction of my mother; watching her body sob silently, I drifted.

I love you, kid.

I heard it, I’m just not sure if it was real or if I was dreaming.

Goodnight.


This flash fiction entry was written in response to Friday Fictioneers.
The objective of Friday Fictioneers is to challenge yourself to write a 100 word or less story that is influenced by a single photo. If you’d like to learn more and/or participate, click on the photo prompt above.
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Escape [Friday Fictioneers]

I’m the oil, you’re the water

perhaps you can save yourself.

This day has been coming

I warned you.

I’ll create a hurt you’ve never experienced.

No one ever listens!  

Why are you still here?

No choice will be given

only a perfect opportunity.

Watching the disaster unfold

creates bittersweet ambiance.

Like it or not

an escape has been planned.


PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
This was written in response to: Friday Fictioneers.
The objective of Friday Fictioneers is to challenge yourself to write a 100 word or less story that is influenced by a single photo. If you’d like to learn more and/or participate, click on the photo prompt above.

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