Tag: #FFfAW

Posted in Flash Fiction

The Light Show

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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Cyrus had worked all day. A convention was coming to Las Vegas. A convention of Harley-Davidson owners and bikers. The convention hotel was planning a light show for them on the Strip as they rolled into town tonight and a crew of technicians, including Cyrus, had been installing the equipment. It was finally done. Now to sit back in his room, overlooking the strip, and watch the fun.

There they came. Those beautiful bikes! Hundreds of them.They stopped at the barrier erected on the strip, before getting to Cyrus’s room.

The light show started. Lights coming from everywhere. They all sat still in awe. They didn’t expect the finale. A chorus of white angels in the sky before them.  Just a little touch thrown in. There were gasps in the crowd. All the bikers revved their bikes at once. Cyrus heard later it was a great hit!

Posted in Flash Fiction

The Old Man and Daisy

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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“Daisy, you and me, we gotta have ourselves a talk,” the old man said.

Lately, he thought to himself, Daisy wasn’t answering him very often. Usually, she coughed or sputtered or something. These days, not a peep.

“Did you hear me, old girl? Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he shouted. He kicked her in the side.

Still nothing. The old man didn’t understand. She always backtalked him. He had noticed she wasn’t looking so good these days.

Then he heard a voice but it didn’t sound like Daisy. He looked up. His nurse was saying, “Mr. Stevens, it’s time for your supper. Did you hear me? Who was that you were talking to when I came in anyway?”

Posted in Flash Fiction

Wising Up

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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“I thought your parents were coming tonight?” James said.

“They are. They said they would meet us here at the restaurant at 6,” replied Barbara.

“I’m only waiting five more minutes,” James stated angrily.

Barbara sighed. James could be so angry sometimes. She didn’t understand it. She had hoped tonight would be special. James was standing beside her tapping his foot, arms crossed. She thought he might ask her to marry him after dinner.

“Barb, you’re so spoiled when you’re with your family. I’d rather have dinner just with you,” James said.

Barbara just looked at him. She knew he didn’t like her family but he’d never said anything like that.

“You wouldn’t be that spoiled if you were living with me.”

Barbara started walking away and ran into her parents.

“Dad, take me home. With you,” Barbara said to her dad.

Posted in Flash Fiction

Escape

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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They were in Europe for only two weeks. The kids wanted to take a boat ride on the canals. It was the week before Trump’s inauguration as President of the United States. Every American that possibly could was escaping the country. The word was out that Putin of Russia had bought and paid for Trump. Americans were scared of what would happen after the inauguration.

The family was on its way to Australia along with many other Americans. Others were going to Canada. There was panic in the streets at home. Kelly supposed that even the vast Outback in Australia couldn’t hold all the Americans that wanted a homestead there.

Kelly smiled at Pete and tried to relax and enjoy riding on the canals. She would never forget the shining city on the hill.

 

*Photo credit to The Storyteller’s Abode

Posted in Flash Fiction

A Rocky Relationship

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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We drove out to Red Rock Canyon that day. I’ll never forget it. Life had not been good for us for awhile. We both loved that canyon, the beautiful scenery, the peace.

Peter wanted to walk and take some photos. I walked with him for a bit but then veered off on my own. I took some photos of my own, including one of Peter sitting on the rocks resting and thinking.

He got up, walked back to me and said, “Carolyn, you’re my girl. You’ve always been. Can’t we work this out? What can I do?”

“You can be the Peter I used to know. Before the affair. You decided to stay, but you aren’t really here.”

Peter said, “I can’t help it, Carolyn. It changed me. She changed me.”

“Go back to her. You’re not my Peter anymore.”

140 words

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Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction, Writing

Christmas Miracle

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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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

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Photo credit to @Maria@Doodles and Scribbles

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Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction, Uncategorized

The Letter

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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June 18, 1899

Dear Miss Chandler:

Thank you for your letter concerning our patient, Mrs. Monica Chandler. I understand that you recently discovered that she is your mother and would like to know her condition and whether you can visit.

Mrs. Chandler came to us almost 20 years ago due to a diagnosis of post-partum depression. I believe this was after the birth of her second child, a female. She was committed to our institution by her husband, August Chandler.

For the last five years, Mrs. Chandler has been in a catatonic state, despite the efforts of our doctors. She has never had visitors to my knowledge. Although you can visit, I don’t think you or Mrs. Chandler would find such a visit very satisfactory.

Sincerely,

Dr. Charles Wetherly

Medford Mental Facility

 

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*This post sponsored by Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.

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Posted in Fiction

Mother, May I?

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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As they drove home from the city, the sky looked ominous. They were late and her mother was going to be waiting on her dinner. They had needed time to themselves today. Her mother was always there. They never had any alone time. She hated thinking things like this. Her mother was ill. They had stayed as late as possible and had even had a wonderful French dinner.

Because her mother felt badly, she didn’t want anyone else to feel good so she always gave them the evil eye when they laughed even the tiniest bit at home. Sometimes she shocked herself at the sound of her own laughter, she heard it so seldom.

As they got out of the car, they heard voices in the house and laughter. What could that be? They raced inside. There sat her mother with friends, talking, laughing, looking quite guilty. She sat down at the table and cried. #amwriting #amblogging #writing #romance #depression

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Posted in Fiction

Waiting

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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There was so much between us during that year. No one, but us, will ever know. He left from this very dock. He went to the mainland from this spot. The night before, he told me not to worry, that he would never be out of my life. I trust him. It doesn’t matter what anyone says. Just because someone has a relationship with someone else doesn’t mean they are sick. How cruel could that be? How silly does that sound? That only means they are trying to keep us apart.

It seems like I’m waiting wherever I am. Work. School. Home. I know he will figure it out. I know he’ll come back for me.

So I’ll wait. Right here on this dilapidated dock where he can find me. #amwriting #amblogging #writing #romance #flashfiction #fiction

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Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction

The Chess Master

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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The boy ran toward the old man. The mother tried to stop him but couldn’t.

He flopped down in the chair across from the man. “You’re nothing but an old man. I can beat you at chess any day,” the boy sneered.

“Nelson!” cried his mother. “Apologize right now.” Nelson didn’t apologize. He just started playing chess.

The old man shrugged his shoulders and in just a couple of minutes, the game seemed to be over. Nelson had cleared the board.

The old man saw something Nelson didn’t. He started to grab the chess pieces, his hand hovering over them, but quickly drew it back. He had decided to give the boy the game. He seemed to need it badly.

“Checkmate, you stupid old man,” Nelson said.

The old man reconsidered his decision. He picked up the chess pieces and dropped them on the boy’s side of the board.

“Learn to respect your elders, son.” #amwriting #amblogging #writing #FFfAW

 

*Brought to you by FFfAW

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