Tag Archives: short stories

June

Ever since she’d been little she’d harboured romantic notions of curling up by the fire with a steaming hot chocolate and a good book, every now and then turning to read aloud the bits that made her smile to the one she loved.

But it had been a long winter. There was no fire. No chocolate (hot or otherwise). The books had been read, sold & turned into sustenance.

Her wrinkled fingers shakily pulled the itchy blanket close to her chin. The ball of fur on her lap twitched an ear.

She closed her eyes as the bitterness kissed her lips.


Back once again after another hiatus. Here’s a little 100-worder for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. Please feel free to comment, critique, like or subscribe for more!

Oh, and don’t forget to check out the other stories based on this picture.

roger-bultot-flower

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Big Shop

Sunglasses, vest-top, short shorts, liberally applied factor 50 and flip-flops. Aside from grabbing the canvas bags and car keys, Sandra was ready. The supermarket wasn’t far, but today was Wednesday – “Big Shop” day, and she was buggered if she was going to carry it up the hill.

Two left turns, a roundabout and one set of traffic lights and apparently Sandra had crossed time zones. Sunglasses were removed and wipers were set to stun. Two climate changes later, she arrived.

“The great British summer,” she mocked as she reached for the umbrella tucked inside the emergency wellington boots behind her seat.


Oh my word, it’s been a while but here we go with another slice of Friday Fictioneers. I’ve seen this prompt before – choosing then to let my imagination go on a strange journey for 40 days and 40 nights.

Be sure to check out the other entries for this week’s prompt by CLICKING THIS LINK!

photo-88

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Mushrooms

Gaston was a terrible gardener and equally appalling cook. The latter of these annoyed him the most. With a name like Gaston he felt sure that his lot in life was becoming a head chef in a French bistro or some swanky London hotel.

He had all the tools. Expensive japanese knives, copper-bottomed pots and pans, specialist slicers for bananas, garlic, carrots and eggs. He even started his own allotment to encourage creativity and healthy eating. Alas, it was to no avail. After 5 full seasons all he had managed to grow was impatient, a ginger beard and five mushrooms.

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Catch up with the rest of the Friday Fiction stories over at Rochelle’s blog. 1 photo. 100 words. Endless possibilities.

erin-leary

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Walkies

I used to love it when he took me for walks. The longer the better.
We’d often end up off the beaten track; looking for exciting, unexplored areas behind the city. A quiet escape from the usual bustle of everyday life.

It was tiring. She was always quite demanding but the older she got the more those demands irked. Scratching at the door to be walked, or for food, or to see her friends. The incontinence was bad enough, but one day she turned and bit me.

Last Sunday, I strolled behind as I took her for one last walk.

c2a9dawn_landau

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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers, and to all those that read and comment. I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve come up with this week.

Friday Fictioneers. Your favourite Friday flash fiction… every Wednesday.

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Downsize

“The album’s on hold. I’ve downsized,” he would tell people. “You’ve been kicked out,” they would hear. “We grew apart, went our separate ways,” he would continue. “You cheated on your wife, she found out, took the kids and rinsed you for everything you had,” they would interpret.

Frank took a deep breath and moved to the kitchen.
“Vacuum the house, wash the sheets, pay the water bills.” His mind was a muddle of chores. “But first,” he thought aloud, “tea.”
As he stirred the brew he recited his list.
“Pay the sheets, water the spare room, tidy the oven.”


leverage-room-1

This week I’ve attempted to rewrite an extract from a story I’ve been (trying) to write over the last year. The story of down and out, Frank – a failed musician, trying to get his life back on track. Whilst I have a synopsis, characters and a plan, I’ve not made much progress. I really ought to change that.

The photograph reminded me of the sort of space Frank had been left with.

So I hope you’ll indulge me a little – besides, it was fun (as well as a good exercise) trying to edit this paragraph or two down to 100 words.

This piece was submitted as part of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. 1 photograph. 100 words. Follow the link and give it a try yourself!

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