Tag Archives: writing

Enough

“…that’s when they said I should leave.” Mike searched the bottom of his glass.
“Hit me again, will ya Sammy?” he pushed his bone-dry shot glass towards the man behind the bar.

Sam popped the top from the bottle and poured another shot.

“Cheers,” he said, scooping up the drink. “You just can’t trust them. None of them. Not a single one.”

Sammy raised an eyebrow.

“Not you Sammy. You’re alright. Hit me again.”

Sam breathed deeply and poured another shot.

Mike nodded in vague appreciation.

“It’s the others.

Hit me.”

Sammy considered it.
He considered it long and hard.


 

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This story, my weekly dip into trying to write something creative, is part of Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. If you’ve taken the time to read this far then I thank you but please take a few more minutes to go read some of the other wonderful entries.

 

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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!

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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.

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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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Jessica and the teeth

The sound of the air being sucked in through his less-than-white front teeth sent shivers down Jessica’s spine. It wasn’t that she was afraid of the inevitable cost soon to be revealed to her. Nor was it the fear of the “complicated and confusing world of manly motors, complete with greasy nuts, oily patches and red-hot pistons”.

No, Jessica recognised the feeling almost at once. They were entirely pleasant, and always welcomed.

Jessica smiled at the five-figure sum. She always felt a tingle of anticipation tickle her skin, moments before putting an ill-educated man firmly in his place.


Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers. Get yourself there and join in with the weekly 100 word challenge!

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Arthur

Arthur Junior (son of Arthur Senior) had taken to sitting at his father’s slightly wonky writing desk every second Wednesday of the month. His father, whom like any self-respecting gentleman, was very particular about his particulars, never missed a hunt.

The trick to never getting into trouble, Arthur Junior had observed, was to never get caught.

His theory was challenged last Wednesday afternoon, however, when upon leafing through the Dictionary he accidentally tore the page he had been studying. Though at first he was struck by fear, he finally conceded his father would never notice the tear in his vagina.


 

This piece was submitted as part of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. 1 photograph. 100 words. Sometimes over 100 people taking part.

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