Lost and Found (Friday Fictioneers #6)

A picture prompt, a 100-word story that links dozens of awesome writer bloggers! Thank you, Rochelle Wishoff-Fields!

Photo prompt – Copyright: Douglas McIlroy

Nero is gone. His absence is a tangible thing, messing with my insides. It feels like a death of a person—debilitating pain then numbing hollowness. A rusty coin flipping around at will.

I look around frantically. What now? He’s nowhere? Nothing?

Suddenly, I become restless. I rush into the shed and put the box of hodgepodge, on-the-way-out stuff on the working bench. A moment ago they were nothing, too. I will change that.

That I can do.

75 words

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Only yesterday, I read a heart-wrenching story/tribute to a pet gone by my writer friend Effrosyni Moschoudi (here’s her blog post). I read that after an uplifting visit to another writer friend, Nicholas Rossis, whose own dog stole my heart. I’m not really a dog person, but this week’s story had to be about person’s best friend. (Had to politically rectify the term.) Here are my friends with their beloved pets. Nerina is a living memory, Meli is a sweet physical presence. My story is about creating something from (visibly) nothing.

Effrosyni and Nerina
Nicholas and Meli

For more great flash fiction, click on the linky.

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Silence (Friday Fictioneers #4)

This flash fiction Friday event is both fun and a great writing exercise. A picture prompt, a 100-word story that links dozens of awesome writer bloggers! Thank you, Rochelle Wishoff-Fields!

Here’s my fourth attempt entitled “Silence”.

PHOTO PROMPT Copyright – Ted Strutz

 

SILENCE

99 words

The whirring in my mouth was goose-flesh inducing, but I had already tucked it away in the past. I was already on the docked ferry, its yawning mouth mimicking my own. I was already alone, far from the crying, whining, screaming—all that ruckus that made the noise in my cavity a welcome respite.

By the time Gus found out I was missing, I’d be far away. Huddled in a cozy, silent room.

Let Gus handle the ruckus for the rest of the week. Four days of peace was all I wanted. I deserved as much.

Then I’d return.

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That story draws from personal need. Almost always when I ride the train to work, I think of going down to the terminal station at the port of Piraeus and board any outbound ship. Just be left to my own devices for a few days. Not talk to a living soul. Just silence.

For more stories and totally different takes on this prompt click on the linky:

Breathe! (Friday Fictioneers #3)

This flash fiction Friday event is both fun and a great writing exercise. A picture prompt, a 100-word story that links dozens of awesome writer bloggers! Thank you, Rochelle Wishoff-Fields!

Here’s my third attempt entitled “Breathe!

PHOTO PROMPT Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

 

BREATHE!

99 words

“No!” Mary’s cry sliced the silence of the cabin like a sharp blade.

The smeared spoon, the lighter on the table, Amy’s body slouched on the chair, the tablet idle on her lap.

Amy’s eyes cracked open. Mary braced herself for the vacant, red look of a daughter gone. It had been five years. No!

Amy stretched like a cat. “Jeez, I guess I snoozed. There was a power cut, so I heated the soup on the gas cooker.” She gave her mother a sheepish smile. “I’m a slob.”

Mary shuddered, as relief exploded in her. “Any soup left?”

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When I saw this picture, impulsively I zoomed in to discern any actual drug paraphernalia. It just took me there, hence the story.

For more stories and totally different takes on this prompt click on the linky:

Owned (Friday Fictioneers #2 )

What an awesome idea! A picture prompt, a 100-word story every Friday that links dozens of writer bloggers! Thank you, Rochelle Wishoff-Fields!

Here’s my second attempt entitled “Owned”.

Picture prompt – Copyright: Jennifer Pendergast

Owned

 

I sit on my favorite bench facing the archway. Two young men pass by, engrossed in conversation. One turns and gives me a genuine smile. I smile back. Freshmen for sure. Seniors reserve a different look for me.

An old sedan pulls up. A man steps out.

“Whatcha doin’ slackin’?”

I stand up and tug at my too short skirt to hide the marks. “Five minutes, Bob!”

“I give you five minutes when the jitters come tonight. See how five minutes feel then!” He climbs back into the car and drives away.

With one last look beyond the archway, I trudge back to my dark corner.
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For more stories on this prompt, click on the linky:

Vivid (Friday Fictioneers #1)

What an awesome idea! A picture prompt, a 100-word story every Friday that links dozens of writer bloggers! Thank you, Rochelle Wishoff-Fields!

Here’s my first attempt entitled “Vivid”.

Copyright Erin Leary
Picture Prompt – Copyright Erin Leary

Vivid

 

The foreground is crisp and clear just like the breeze wafting in from the open window. I need mossy green. Perfect. Now burnt orange. A drop of blood red gives me persimmon. I shrug. Sepia, tawny strokes slash my canvas. I cock my head. The gnarly twigs give me a thumbs-up. Two flicks of my wrist, and I add vertical lines. Then a dewy drop at the tip to soften their descent. I ponder on the foggy background. I let it be.

One deep breath, and I open my eyes. Feeling for the edge of the window panes, I shut the breeze out and count the five steps to the door, smiling.

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I’d love your feedback! Also, if you’d like to check out other bloggers’ stories for this prompt, click on the linky: