Tag Archives: Flash Fiction

Holiday Trek

100 Word Wednesday: Week 66

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Photo by Bikurgurl

Holiday Trek

A holiday of our lifetime, she said.

Those words ring in my mind and at night the howler monkeys join in.

This trek, to meet the Sapanahua tribe deep in the Amazon forest, has become a nightmare.

Janet left a note; “I need time to myself to follow a different path in my career. Sorry, but it’s goodbye George.” She took the canoe and supplies.

What a headache I had after the ayahuasca tea she made and I slept like a log. It’s been twelve days and the Sapanahua are tracking me. Are they friendly or like me, very hungry?

 

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Romeo and Juliet – Cancun Style

Three Line Tales, Week 115

Romeo and Juliet – Cancun style.

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photo by Ronaldo Santos via Unsplash

Oh Pedro my spider man, at last we are alone.

Si, me amor, let us elope my darling Rosita, while we are young.

The door! Quick, the cup, Pedrito. My father is home.

Which Tree are You?

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Friday Fictioneers – 9th March

Which Tree are You?

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Photo by Sandra Crook

“Come tell me, Louise,” he said, pulling her from the water. “What happened to you?”
“Oh, Grandpa.” She laughed. “What a beautiful house, is it heaven?”
“For some. Such a dreadful war.”
‘Like you.”
“Yes. I was wounded at Sommesous. It broke her heart.” He ruffled Louise’s hair. “Ah, my Madam Lilly de Vogue and her hospital, our noble home.”
“My Grandma?”
“Yes. She saved many lives, but for every hero who died she planted a tree.”
“Is she here?”
“No, oh no.” He laughed.  “She lives with her lovers in Marseille. I wish her well.”
“Which tree are you?”
“My tree is the Colonel Marcel Pinion de Vogue.” He took her hand. “Now Louise, what happened to you?”
“I couldn’t swim, Grandpa.”

A Friend in Need

100 Word Wednesday – Bikurgurl

 

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Photo by Savs

A friend in need

Diane’s right, it’s lonely on that ranch by Alpine Springs.
She couldn’t ride in her condition; on the trail rounding up wild shorthorns around Badger Creek.
It sure broke my heart to see her cry when we lost our unborn.
Where the hell was I when she needed me!
Two weeks, branding them darn bullocks.
Burned my heart beyond despair as she told me, her pretty face all gutted up.
She’s a tough one, still I guess we need to mourn.
Tobacco Joe handed me one of his retriever pups.
Hope Diane’s still home and not left for Denver.

 

Ommetaphobia

Friday Fictioneers

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Photo by Victor and Sarah Potter

Ommetaphobia

The Professor was irritated since his metamorphosis was taking longer than expected. Although, this was no consolation to the Parkers who were transfixed in fear by his hypnotic stare. Their home was a breeding ground for his venomous arthropods.
Not long now, the Professor reassured himself and spun another silky yarn from the light shade.
The consumption of human flesh excited him, and such terrified eyes. He would suck them first, then wrap the bodies in cocoons, as he had already done with the boy. He would have to act before the trance wore off. Oh, to be human again.

Every Piece a Memory

Rochelle Wisoff- Fields.  Friday Fictioneers.

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Photo by Sarah Ann Hall

Every Piece a Memory

Early morning when I am alone I think of you.
Do you remember when we argued in the flea market, and I bartered furiously to please you. My reward, a glowing smile and a hug like mulled wine on a frosty day.
You saw ‘must have bargains’ and I told you I couldn’t carry any more, you pecked my cheek. I was annoyed lugging them through the Underground. Now, every piece is a memory, each one a moment when we laughed. Each you begged for, and whether you won or lost, your collection grew with our unfathomable love.
I miss you.

Last night I dreamt of Carmen.

Carmen. 100 word Wednesday

Good morning sunshine, you make my heart sting.
Cycling along to meet Carmen waiting by the falls.
My darling Carmen what secret do you have to tell?
I’m coming, cycling as fast as I can, I’m coming.
Please wait, I’m coming, I’m cycling as fast as I can.
What is it? What do you have to tell me, waiting by the falls?
I’m coming, cycling as fast as I can, I’m coming.
I see you smiling, crying. What is it? Keep away from the falls.
I’m coming, cycling as fast as I can, I’m coming.
I am cycling as fast as I can, tears rolling down my cheeks.
I wake, let me sleep, let me cycle. Every night Carmen waits.
I cycled as fast as I could.
Good morning sunshine. You make my heart sting.

 

A Secret Lover’s Diary

Three Line Tales Week, Week 88.

A Secret Lover’s Diary.

My intensity is afraid and when you read my words don’t judge me as a fool.
But every day I have written about my desires and dreams, and of your beauty.
Please; my secrets will remain invisible until you breathe life on my pages.

 

Green Fingers

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Happy Birthday Sally

Green Fingers.  100 Word Wednesday.

I ordered a vegetarian pizza with personality and was impressed with its photo-fit likeness of Sally. I fell over laughing. She stormed off taking the jeep. I begged her to return, but she cleared out my account and left to live up north with Hashish Bob. I counted myself lucky, it was a stolen jeep, and scammed account, but still I miss her, those pearly white dentures, large doe like eyes and her envious warm nature. Occasionally, I would find curly green fibres in my bed and I’d cry. Without her magical green fingers my life has gone to waste.

Head in the Sand

100 Word Wednesday – week 29

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Head in the Sand.

(DARK CONTENT WARNING)

Josh liked it that way, in the dark – laptop on his knees.
He typed his reply.
[yea it looks good}
[are you coming]
{No}
[Oh Josh – there’s no one near us. Come on]
{so!!}
[just us – warm sand and sea – we have a wind breaker, no one will see you]
{Yea heard that before}
[Don’t Josh, we love you]
.
.
[Josh, we are coming to get you]
{no don’t come round my Ma will kill me}
{we’re coming}
.
.
Josh checked his pile of candy bars – his hockey stick.
He pulled the AK47 from under his bed, it was loaded -safety off.
.
.
The knocking on the cellar door started.
“Josh! your friends are here.”
Ma is going to kill him.
“Come on Josh! I know you are in there.” she banged harder. “You can’t bury your head in the sand all your life.”
He pointed the barrel of the AK47 at the door.
What life?