Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction

The Runaway

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She sat huddled in a booth in the back of the diner. Clutching her backpack against her chest. That man had tried to sit down beside her. She’d told him she was only 15 years old. He finally left. Jeff, her boyfriend, would be here in a minute. Why make her come here, alone? He was late. He knew she’d walked miles from home to meet him here.

They were going to run away. Their parents wouldn’t let them be together. Jeff said he’d take care of the money.

He appeared beside her.

“Come on,” Jeff said. “I’m taking you home.”

 

100 words

#amwriting #amblogging #writing #flashfiction #fiction

This post part of Friday Fictioneers

Posted in Challenges, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Horses

She Ran Calling Wildfire

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It was early morning when I went to the barn to saddle him. It had been a year since the barn fire. We had pulled him out of that fire but he had lost his left eye. It took almost a year before I could get on his back again. His body was healed, that big, dark body, but I didn’t think his mind would ever be. Other horses always had to be on his right, else he was scared.

We went for a ride with Robert along the beach. Wildfire loved the beach. For the first time since the fire, he stretched his neck out and ran like the wind coming in off the ocean. The ocean was healing his soul….and mine.

124 words

#amwriting #amblogging #writing #FFfAW #Challenges #flashfiction #fiction

*This post part of the #FFfAW Challenge – Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Photo Credit to Iain Kelly

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction

Falling

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She had always wanted to visit Iceland. As a photographer, she knew that some of the most amazing pictures could be taken there and she made her living selling her photos. She had been in Iceland for several days and had taken incredible pictures. She had a day trip planned to Gullfoss Falls today, an amazing waterfall.

The tour group arrived at The Falls. As they walked toward The Falls, she was mesmerized because you can’t see the edge. It looks like the Hvita River just vanishes into the earth. She just started snapping pictures. All she could think about was that she could sell these pictures in the U.S. She and some other members of the group got closer. They called to her not to get too close. She had to get this last shot. But she slipped and tumbled over the rocks into the canyon.

147 words

#amwriting #amblogging #writing #Iceland #flashfiction #fiction

Post in response to Challenge whatpegmansaw using Google Maps

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction

The Veteran and Christmas Spirit

 

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The old guy sitting in the diner was a Vietnam vet. He didn’t know what to do. His last buddy, also his roommate, died today. That meant his home was gone too.

He had been there for hours. The manager had noticed him. She walked over and asked if he needed anything.

“A place to stay. My friends are gone.”

She got him to tell his story. She saw their Christmas tree and asked him if he would like to stay in their back room.

“I’m a good cook,” he exclaimed, as his whole face lit up with a smile.

 

100 words

#amblogging #amwriting #writing #flashfiction #fiction

This post is in response to Friday Fictioneers

Photo credit to Roger Bultot

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction, Horses

Wildfire and Rose

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“It’s going to be 19 degrees F. tonight and not more than 21 degrees tomorrow. We have to get the horses in,” Skip said.

“Especially Wildfire,” I replied. “His coat seems thin this year. He’s not out there with the other horses. I’m going to take Thunder and go to the back pastures to find him.”

“You can’t,” said Skip. “It’s so slick out there. What if Thunder slips?”

An hour later, Rose hadn’t returned. She would search for her beloved Wildfire until she found him. Suddenly, they heard a whinny. Wildfire was covered in snow by the door. So was Rose!

Photo credit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

100 words

#amblogging #amwriting #writing #flashfiction #fiction

Post in response to #FridayFictioneers Challenge

Thanks, Rochelle!

 

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction, Writing

Christmas Miracle

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The street light glowed brightly at the end of the side street of the dying town. It was Christmas Eve but the homeless men who huddled around the barrel glowing with fire didn’t notice. They were focused on getting warm. It was a frigid winter’s night.

Most of the men didn’t have gloves and held their hands over the fire. Some would probably not survive the night. All would sleep close to the barrel or in nearby doorways. The small town didn’t have funds to help the homeless.

They were hungry but their hunger took second place to the cold. Out of the darkness, a shadow appeared. The shadow approached the men slowly. It was a young girl carrying large brown bags in both hands.

She sat the bags on the ground and walked away. The smell of hot food was  unmistakable. The men slowly walked toward the bags and smiled at their Christmas miracle.

155 words

#amwriting #amblogging #writing #flashfiction #fiction

Photo credit to @Maria@Doodles and Scribbles

Thanks, Priceless Joy!

Posted in Fiction

Killing Her Softly

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He had made the decision. The decision to break off the relationship with her. He was going to have this last little fling and then it was going to be over. He could swing it. He knew how to manage it and no one had to be the wiser. He had convinced her that his wife wore the pants in his family. That she controlled him and everything he did. It had taken an elaborate story but she had bought it. He knew her well enough to tell. She was a gentle soul and she loved him. She’d believe anything he told her. He’d convinced her that he loved her. Anyway, he knew he would not be able to have sex with her much longer. He was flirting with impotence. He wasn’t mature enough to realize she didn’t care about that. He did.

He didn’t want to take the chance of losing his marriage. Not because he loved his wife. But because his wife came from a wealthy family. They had the money to travel and play at whatever they wanted. He didn’t want to screw that up just for a meaningless affair. He just got involved in this affair for a thrill anyway. The thrill was going away so he had to get out of it. He laughed to himself. He got bored easily. He had to put her in her place so she wouldn’t tell anyone, like his wife. She wasn’t stupid, even though she was trusting. He had to make his story complicated so she wouldn’t figure it out.

What he didn’t know is that the girl already knew something was wrong between them. He was a heavy drinker and he had let some things slip when he got drunk. He was also bipolar. Sometimes, he thought he was thinking to himself, only he was thinking out loud and the girl heard him talking to himself. She was already suspicious before she left him at the airport that last time. He was in a manic period and was drinking more than usual so he could sleep. The mania was worse than the girl had ever seen. The mental illness had gotten worse since she had last seen him. She never could have guessed the lengths he would go to in order to get rid of her. She never would have guessed he would try to get rid of her at all. They had seen each other for 35 years, even if it had been off and on.

The man thought he had convinced the girl his wife was a mean bitch. A dictatorial, manipulative woman who controlled him completely. He’d told her that the wife was a computer hacker, that she would ruin her life if she found out about them. He’d forgotten that the girl had known him when he’d been with other women and that he’d never be with anyone like that. If anyone was controlling, it would be him. She knew he’d be sneaky about it.

The girl already knew he was a liar. Even during their current short relationship, he contradicted himself dozens of times. The mental illness kept him from realizing it as did the liquor. The girl remembered every single instance. He first said that he had paid one of his ex-wives off with $250,000. The next day, it became $500,000. Apparently, he didn’t think she had a memory either. She remembered it all. Her brain had not been pickled in liquor and ruined by uncontrolled bipolar disease.

That did not mean that the girl was prepared for what happened next. She had never known him to be cruel. Troubled, yes. A pathological liar, yes. Cruel, no. The years had indeed changed him.

It happened three days after they parted the last time. He was particularly sweet that day, professing his undying love. Over and over and over. Then, suddenly, the girl got a message supposedly from his wife saying that he had been found out and threatening her. It took her a little while to think the whole thing through. To realize that the message from his wife was really a message from him. His cowardly way out of the relationship. At first, she was shattered. It took weeks for her to think straight. She had trusted him in spite of herself. Psychopaths can be quite convincing because they believe their own lies.

He cut off her access to him all the while blaming his wife. At first, all she wanted was an explanation but she couldn’t get that. Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall together for her. He thought he was very smart but he had made some fundamental mistakes. Gradually, she figured out each mistake he had made. She started to realize that his wife probably did not even know he had an affair. He had ended it before she found out but in the most horrible way, the cruelest way, possible. In his very sick bipolar mind, he had to play out an elaborate scenario and hurt the girl badly.

Looking back, the girl shook her head. All he had to do was tell her that the affair was not working for him. He knew that she would never want someone who didn’t want her. She would have just left and he would never have heard from her again. It would have been so much simpler. He even needed the thrill of hurting her. In the process, he probably caused her to never be able to trust again. Cruel and psychopathic people do not care about those things. They care only about themselves.*

#amwriting #amblogging #writing #fiction

*This is an excerpt from a larger body of work.

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Cee’s Photography Blog has a cool challenge that I’ve decided to participate in for a bit. The title is self-explanatory. Cee asks four questions each week:

1. What do I value most in a friend?

That’s an easy answer. Trust. Complete trust. Not just the kind of trust where the other person keeps your confidence, but the kind of trust where the other person can be counted on to be there for you and to genuinely care about your welfare. Some say that you won’t more than one handful of this type of friend in your lifetime. I believe this is true. I would love to get comments in the section below about what YOU value most in a friend. I’ve been lucky. I have friends like this.

 

2. Do you prefer eating the frosting of the cake or the cupcake first? Do you prefer a specific flavor?

I can’t really answer this question because I don’t eat sweets! I know, I’m weird.

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3. Have you ever been in a submarine? If you haven’t, would you want to?

No, I have never been in a submarine. I love the water….the ocean. I love to swim in it, wade in it, get slammed by the waves in it, snorkel in it, cruise on a ship in it, but a submarine. It gives me claustrophobia just to think of it!

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4. If 100 people your age were chosen at random, how many do you think you’d find leading a more satisfying life than yours?

If you look at it from simply a statistical point of review, you can assume that 50% have had a more satisfying life and 50% have had a less satisfying life.

 

 

Share Your World – 2016 Week 49

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction, romance

Desolation

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They unpacked their luggage in the room on the top floor of the old house. The view was magnificent as they looked out onto the flats. Magnificent but disturbing somehow.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

She thought about it and looked at his face. A face that she was just now seeing for the first time in so many years.

“Why did you bring me here,” she asked, “to this desolate place?”

“I need to be with my girl.”

“Let’s relax and enjoy the view. Just be together,” she replied.

He smiled. He didn’t smile much anymore.

 

98 words

#amwriting #amblogging #writing

*This post in response to Friday Fictioneers

Photo Credit to Lucy Fridkin

Posted in Fantasy and Magic, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Uncategorized

The Firefly

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Petra, the pixie fairy flying ahead of the others, saw it first. The glow in the grass.

“Decla,” she called to another pixie. “Do you see that glow in the grass?”

The two fairies flew down and gently landed in the grass, near the glow. It was a diamond that appeared to be glowing green because of the surrounding grass. It appeared to be growing out of a stalk, upside down.

“We have to retrieve it, Decla,” Petra exclaimed. “Call the group.”

Down swooped the group, plucked the diamond, and they flew off with the group carrying it. It flickered as they carried it through the sky.

Down below a small girl thought it was a firefly. She hadn’t seen one in a long time. She made a wish that the firefly meant her Daddy would come home. As she turned, there stood her Daddy.

145 words

#amwriting #amblogging #writing #flashfiction #fiction

Photo credit to Jade Wong

Post in response to FFfAW – Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers