Category Archives: Flash Fiction

The Honey-Trap

Friday Fictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

The Honey-trap

Anya was naked and walked past.
I stopped reading.
(Mrs Newsome wanted Strether to rescue Chadwick from a wicked woman.)
I was dressed when Anya emerged from the bathroom.
‘Ready?’ She adjusted her blouse.
In East-Berlin, we had met in a provocative gaze across a crowded room.
‘Will he be alone?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘My flight is tonight.’
Col Kryuchkov met us at Marx’s Tomb in Highgate, and I gave him the USB memory.
‘I love you.’ I kissed Anya. ‘Goodbye.’
The encrypted files were bogus lists of double agents.
Another time, they may return to poison me.

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A Wonderful World of Plants

Friday Fictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © Penny Gadd

A Wonderful World of Plants

A woman in green came to our school; she told us about a wonderful world where dreams came true. She believed how plants could care for us; they were special.
‘Take this moon rock,’ she said. ‘Put it in a jar and keep it in the dark overnight.’
Everyone in our street had one.
It seemed miraculous, the speed it grew, up and over the kitchen walls. No one knew what it was. The cats were first to vanish then, Bertie, our dog.
Then one day!
‘Good morning,’ the plant said, trailing a tentacle around my neck. ‘I’m so hungry.’

My Grandmother’s Bucket List

Friday Fictioneers – The Gang

PHOTO PROMPT © Linda Kreger

My Grandmother’s Bucket List

She sky-dived, and landing she broke her ankles. The family came to help.
She would race across the Sahara; a push but worth a try. Then she’d climb Kilimanjaro; her second option since her doctor suggested the cold on Everest would aggravate her arthritis.
What does he know?
Her colostomy bag will float as she swims the English Channel. A trek along the Great Wall of China, a canoe up the Amazon and visits to the Taj Mahal and Machu Picchu.
Her bucket list was growing.
If only the gang could navigate the way out of the care home carpark.

Beryl my Zombie Girlfriend

Friday Fictioneers.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Beryl my Zombie Girlfriend.

Meet me in the scary café, she had said. Her favourite place.
I was on my second, deep black death coffee, it was delicious and tasted like reconstituted tar. Where was she?
Yea, what a fun place.
Try the putrid burgers, the dried blood is to die for, she had said. Don’t mind the wiggly maggots, they taste sweet with the  sauce.
Where is she?
People are staring, I fill with a desire to hug them, and stroke their soft necks.
My new overwhelming compulsive urge.
Beryl promised to teach me.
Being alive and dead is awesome, she had said.

Huntress in Suburbia

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

Huntress in Suburbia

It always happens to me. Melissa kicked a bucket.
Ouch, it was full of sand. Had she broken her toe?
More rain to come, so the welcome BBQ was off. What will they think?
She had escaped squatting in a squalid basement flat, and after they took her baby, Ellen, away, inside she died. Her pimp, a weak drug dealing scum, had a fortune stashed beneath the floorboards. She put a mickey in his vein and left him to rot.
She bought into suburbia – clean and with a teaching job –an ambitious single woman out to trap a rich husband.

Love from Lizard Island

Friday Fictioneers.

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Lizard Island

From the jetty, I watch the plane skip and skim over the lake. Its engine roaring as it lifts high into the Autumn sky, and like a migrating swan it glides southward towards a warmer horizon.
I suppressed my tears and wave a frantic farewell as pride fills my lungs.  Mary promised to return as she is free from our genetic abnormality.
She will confront the ignorant multitude to overcome the prejudice that holds our people quarantined on this island.
Other teenagers have tried, they never come home.
I stroke the scales on my claws and wonder; will she succeed?

Independence Day Parade

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Independence Day Parade

‘Marcel are you coming.’
‘No, not until I get nuggets.’
‘Get out from under the table. Do you want to see the parade?’
‘Yes, but I want nuggets.’
‘Don’t spoil the holiday, son. We’re going now. Bye.’
‘Wait! I want turkey nuggets.’
‘Mom’s already gone to watch the parade. Now come or stay.’
‘Can you buy me nuggets?’
‘Sorry son, Mom’s taken her purse.’
‘Dad, why do we always have to do what Mom’s says?’
‘Let’s go watch the bands.’
‘Okay. Will Mom buy the nuggets afterwards?’
‘Maybe. Just remember independence and freedom works better, if you’re nice to Mom.’

Infatuation

 

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Infatuation

The draft wafted a fragrance of jasmine across the counter: I looked up.
‘Carmen!’
‘Hello Joe, can I have one for the matinee?’ She fumbled in her handbag. ‘Usual seat, please.’
‘One? What’s happened to John?’
‘Please, I am in a hurry.’ She passed over the ten-dollar bill and grabbed the ticket. A silver ring rolled from her purse and fell behind the counter.
‘I’ll get that.’ I held it up as she walked away. ‘Carmen, your ring.’
‘Keep it, throw it. I don’t care.’
She slammed the door as she rushed out.
Yes! Tomorrow, I’ll ask her to dinner.

 

______________________________

This week I prepared a basic book trailer for my novel MISSING. It is on my author page, if you would like to watch it..

Author Page- James McEwan

 

Grandma’s Home

Friday Fictioneers – ttps://rochellewisoff.com/2019/06/12/14-june-2019/#like-8927

PHOTO PROMPT © Valerie J. Barrett

Grandma’s Home

My Grandma’s cottage is a museum now; clean and full of curiosities that visitors point at. Her blackened kettle and the old iron shine as if new.

She was a small woman, but resilient, strong and religiously devout. Like my grandfather and father, I would shake in terror when she called us for dinner.

She rapped our knuckles with the spoon if any hands, faces or finger nails showed traces of lead dust. We prayed, thankful for our cleanliness and our daily bread.

Grandma believed that personal pride was above poverty, and every home in our community washed their steps.

***

This week’s photograph remined me of my visits to Wanlockhead – now a tourist/museum site.

https://www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/wanlockhead/wanlockhead/index.html

 

Blind Faith

 

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Friday Fictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll 

Chantal was five today, and we played her favourite game.
When she was three someone asked why she didn’t wear a blindfold like everyone else.
‘If the other children wear blindfolds, then I want one too,’ she declared.
I smiled, she needed to be like everyone else, inclusive, and fair.
It was as if she had a sixth sense and pinned the tail on the rear rump of the donkey accurately. How does she do it?
‘I just imagine what you describe. Am I right?’ she said.
Next week her Labrador arrives, and we’ll watch them walk in the park.