Tag: #microfiction

Posted in #FridayFictioneers, Flash Fiction

Morsels for Max

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

Friday Fictioneers – March 8, 2024

Photo Prompt @ Rowena Curtin

”Gran, we should plant the flowers sitting on the deck. It’s such a beautiful spring day.”

”We will, Thelma,” replied Gran. “That will give us time to spend with Max.” Max was their dog who lived in a kennel behind the house.

Thelma looked out back at Max’s kennel.

”Oh no, Gran,” Thelma exclaimed. “Max is gone! He isn’t in his kennel.”

When they walked onto the deck, there was Max. He had turned over his bowl and the watering can. The flowers were out of their containers and chewed into pieces. Max looked at them with a satisfied grin.

100 words

Thanks to Rochelle for the Friday Fictioneers challenge! See other Friday Fictioneer’s posts at inlinkz.

Posted in #FridayFictioneers, Flash Fiction

Revenge

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

Friday Fictioneers

Claire saw the old vehicle being lifted from the bottom of the lake. Her mother had drowned in that car and it was her fault. Her mom was teaching her to drive. She lost control of the car and they landed in the roadside lake.

The accident was months ago and she could see the damage to the car. Rust and a crooked door where her mom fought so hard to get out. Claire smiled, then looked around to see if anyone saw her. She had finally paid her mother back for all those injustices she’d suffered in her childhood.

100 words

Thanks to Rochelle and Friday Fictioneers and to Fleur Lind for the photo.

Posted in #FridayFictioneers, Flash Fiction

On the Run

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

”Where can we go to hide?” Amy Wu asked her fellow escapee, Chien-Chi.

”I know just the place where we can get lost,” Chien-Chi replied. “Follow me.”

Amy had escaped the mob who wanted to use her tiny Chinatown store to store weapons. She had refused. Her friend, Chien-Chi was trying to help.

Amy followed Chien-Chi as he sprinted through Chinatown, He skidded into a Chinese restaurant and she followed. It was busy and a maze. Easy to get lost.

Amy followed the owner to the back of the restaurant. There was the freezer. Her purserers stood right beside it.

For Friday Fictioneers. Thanks, Rochelle!

Posted in #FridayFictioneers, Flash Fiction

The Best of Times

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

She only saw the ocean once in her 78 years. A few years before she had to leave home, her brother-in-law arranged a trip to the beach for she and her sisters. They spent a week at the seashore and it was a glorious time. They had their coffee on the beach in the mornings and their nightcap at night,

She spent time collecting sea shells. She kept them in a glass dome after she returned home.

When she had to leave home for good, she took her shells. She thought of her sisters and remembered the best of times.

For Friday Fictioneers. Thanks, Rochelle!

Posted in #FridayFictioneers

The Migration

Posted on by R.M. Carlson
PHOTO PROMPT @ Bill Reynolds

He hated to be the first one to leave, the first generation not to work the family farm. He had no choice because farmers had to have another job to survive. There were no other jobs where he lived in West Virginia.

The last time the greenhouse had been active was when his grandfather worked it. HIs father died young and didn’t have the chance. Now, to survive, he had to go to the city. No remote work either.

He took a last look at the old greenhouse. For an instant, he saw it thriving, but then it was gone.

For Friday Fictioneers. Thanks, Rochelle!

Posted in #FridayFictioneers

Bad Luck

Posted on by R.M. Carlson
PHOTO PROMPT @Fleur Lind

“Congratulations and best wishes to the bridge and groom,” the best man toasted at the wedding. ”May you have a long and happy marriage!”

As was their custom, the best man smashed his champagne glass in the stone fireplace. One by one, the wedding guests made a wish for the happy couple and then smashed their glasses. The father of the groom shouted, ”May you have many children,” and followed suit.

After everyone left, the best man saw the champagne glass that was left.

”Oh no,” he said. “They will have 25 years of bad luck.”

For Friday Fictioneers. Thanks, Rochelle!

Posted in Flash Fiction

The Last Quarter

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

She had always been an introvert preferring her books, her writings and her piano to people. Her circumstances magnified her introversion. A country life, little exposure to people. She would want to be with school friends, but that seldom happened. She adored her family, depended on them, felt safe and protected.

Even after life changed and she had to at least pretend to be an extrovert for her work, secretly, she could never bring herself to trust other people. When she had trusted, she’d been hurt.

She’d always heard others say that you really only had a handful of true friends in your entire life. As she entered the last quarter of her life, she had learned that to be true from her own painful experiences. By then, her heart had hardened and any affinity for people she’d had sliced away leaving a scar.

For d’Verse Poets Prose Prompt

Posted in #FridayFictioneers, Flash Fiction

Freedom

Posted on by R.M. Carlson
PHOTO PROMPT @ Dale Rogerson

“Mama, I want to go out and ride my bike.”

”No, child, it isn’t safe. The government forces may do a surprise check. We aren’t supposed to be on the streets.”

”But why, Mama?”

”Darling child, we live under something called martial law. They have imposed a round-the-clock order that we must stay indoors.”

”Here’s Papa. Can I go outdoors, Papa?”

“No, child. For now, we just have to remember how it was when we could elect the government officials we wanted and when we lived in a free society and work to get back there.”

For Friday Fictioneers. Thanks, Rochelle!

Posted in #FridayFictioneers, Flash Fiction

The Spinning Woman

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

Spinning wheel in Appalachia
PHOTO PROMPT @ ROCHELLE WISOFF-FIELDS

Mary sat at the old spinning wheel that was passed down to her from her grandmother. Spinning wheels were formerly used to make thread that was then used to make clothes. Mary lived deep in the hills of Appalachia and she was preparing to start making the family’s clothes again.

The children couldn’t find jobs. The new autocratic government cut off unemployment benefits and all financial assistance. Her grandmother had taught her the basics of life, just for fun then. Now, she was glad she knew as her fingers flew on the spinning wheel, making magic.

For Friday Fictioneers. Thanks, Rochelle!

Posted in Fiction

The Book of Spells of Misfortune

Posted on by

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In a city in the North, she was the housekeeper for the handsome detective. She didn’t like him much. She was snowbound at his house overnight. He was gone on an assignment. She was bored that night and looked for something to read. She found a book with crumpled pages called The Book of Spells of Misfortune. Curious, she opened it.

She found a spell she would like to cast on him but she didn’t believe in that stuff. She started chanting it for fun. She heard something and there he stood. He had turned into a pillar of ice.

100 words

Photo Credit Dale Rogerson