Monthly Archives: February 2014

Feeling good

Steven drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel. By his reckoning he’d now been sat behind this tractor for 15 minutes.

He honked his horn. He honked it hard.

Still nothing.

He turned off the engine but, keeping the battery active, he switched on the radio. Barry White was half way through one of his deep, sexy, love songs.

Steven smiled for the first time in 16 minutes. He loved a good juxtaposition.

Giles (the farmer) stared up at the blue sky. It had been a hard day, and the cushion of hay under his back was feeling damn good.

 

hay-bales-sandra-c

Submitted for Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. See if you can write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words.

 

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Over the hill

The 7th was a par 5. A long par 5 at that. If they’d let you have a par 6 it would have been a par 6.

Anyway, I teed off and hit a lovely ol’ shot. Straight down the fairway. Geoff followed. Landed in the rough about 45 yards from me.

No change there.

Shot 2 just about got us both over the hill. It was a real blind shot. The crest was such that you always have to wait for the bell to ring before you play.

Someone should have told the jokers behind us.

Poor old Geoff.

david-stewart

Submitted for Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. See if you can write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words.

 

 

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Poe Faced

James Frederick Evans, or “little Jimmy” as he was known to his nearest and dearest, had been imprisoned for over 3 years now. Trapped inside his little red cell with very little wriggle room. He’d run and jump and play never more.

He’d not seen the signs. He’d known not to keep off the grass. Known not that the green, green grass was there for visual pleasure only. Not to be felt under foot or hand or ball. It was purely there to be seen and nothing more.

Little Jimmy looked out upon the world in envy. The location of the prison his greatest torment. There he was, surrounded as far as the eye could see, by luscious emerald blades. Here he would languish forevermore.

 

Submitted as part of Sunday Photo Fiction.

47-02-february-16th-2014

 

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Forty Two

The gate squeaked, the gravel shuffled and the letterbox clattered as February 14th’s mail cascaded to the ground.

Mark grabbed his Spider-Man dressing gown and ran from the top of the stairs to the bottom. There he sat, crossed legged on the matt shuffling through the letters like a terrible dining room magician.

“Bill. Bill. Junk. Bill. Ugh. Booorrrrinnnggg” he sighed.

Just as he was giving up, a red envelope caught his eye. Dropping the others, he tore it open and pulled the card from within.

Mark smiled as he finally got dressed, text his mum and set-off to work.

Love-Hearts-Sweets--Valentines-Day_art

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The Interview

“…and so for as long as I can remember I’ve been in Spain, drinking in the sunshine and just enjoying life. Things are so much better when you can just let go, you know?
I mean, take Miguel, he looks chilled and cool but I’ve seen him after hours; the guy has serious issues. He needs to take a step back and just relax, you know? Just kick back and enjoy himself. Take some Miguel-time, you know?”

“Ah crap. Sorry, can you…”

“Que?”

“Sorry, we’re going to need to go again. MANUEL! BOOM MIC is in shot!”

“SANTA MARIA! MOTHER…”

janet-webbs-sangria

 

Submitted for Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. See if you can write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words.

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