Inspired by Carrot Ranch's Flash Fiction challenge prompt, https://carrotranch.com/2021/03/25/march-25-flash-fiction-challenge-2/, My 99 words on the theme of escape, and for once I am not falling back on poetry Transition Laying on the bed I couldn’t believe today had actually come. Looking out the window I could just make out the sea. The south coast of England … Continue reading Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction: Transition
If you leave now you leave with nothing
‘It’s my fault,’ Robbie told the policewoman earnestly. She looked like a nice lady who would understand...
Riley got up. ‘I will catch you all tomorrow, Cornecki, meet you here for 6.30 am, Macky, make sure she is up, I want her up to speed by the end of the week. Goodnight.’ It had been a week or so since Megan and began working with Riley...
Tom was ready. Ready to make his own life. He was fed up. Fed up of waiting for the bus ...
When the end of civilization as we know it happened, it wasn’t like everyone thought it would be. There was no great rapture of the holy, there was no huge explosion to wipe out the existence of life...
I drove home the long way round, dreading another scene as I walked through door. Jess and I had been married for six hellish months...
It was late when Megan followed Riley into the dimly lit Lodge house that was the senior officers’ accommodation. ‘I’ll show you to your room’ ...
Megan Cornecki stood in front of Riley’s messy desk while the older woman’s eyes gave her a disapproving once over or three. Megan was very aware she looked a sight...
‘You want a light?’ James Macky asked the tall guy in an undersized trench coat next to him with a half-smoked cigarette drooping from his lips. ..
It seemed strange to be moving on after all this time. This old house had been home for so long it felt like part of me, and I was part of it...
For the last 18 months life, if one can call it such, has been laying in shatters around me, just scraping by in an existence where living is what other people do. Frankly, my life was a mess. A broken marriage, a pokey bedsit I call home, and redundancy, you get the picture, yeah...
From the beautiful #writephoto prompt this week, thank you Sue...
The prompt from Sue, https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/3193846/posts/2846323574, I’d recognise that clock tower anywhere so know this is one of my fave places in this world. ..
Megan Cornecki sat in her bedsit with an electric shaver in her hand the day after watching the annihilation of the crowd of innocent people in the market square. Desperate people but innocent....
The Tunstine Gazette, a local evening paper, carried the headlines Another Crash on the New Bypass. The report cited brake failure caused the blue Mercedes to spin out of control causing a 30-minute tail back of traffic. The driver, in hospital, but not considered to be critical...
Evening fell, and the moon painted the town of Havenhallow with its glow. Major Grulraym was about to leave the incubation unit of the dragonborn research centre...
It’s Saturday morning and my head is throbbing. Vague recollections of Matt and a crowd of guys in Kelly’s Bar and a river of scotch...
We'd matched on Tinder. And now he was here. He was handsome; I was happy. Then I saw the slogan on his t-shirt.
Mark woke early on this Saturday morning and his eyes gently glazed over his wife sleeping beside him
A few months later Chepi and Bel sat outside their new home watching the young cubs play and enjoying a warm early autumn afternoon. What with building a new den and keeping on top of the cubs, Si and his goons seemed like a distant nightmare.
As the sun rose the next day Brach and Achak chatted as they watched over the lair. ‘Is it really all over, Brach?’
Chepi, the Young Vixen, sat down next to her aunt. She was exhausted. Bel handed her a cup of tea.
The next day the Young Vixen and Bel had just finished giving Skid and Achak’s pups their breakfast when one of the young male wolves returned to the lair. He had with him two fox cubs; a bit worse for wear but alive.
The Young Vixen and the Old Fox sat at the lair entrance staring into the forest and the sunset. ‘It’s almost like old times,’ said the Old Fox
Edge of Twilight 12 – Gathering the Pack Brach's pack is gathered and Rigby has some explaining to do.
Edge of Twilight 11 – Unexpected Guests The sun glistened on the lower limbs of the forest trees. Inside the wolf lair there was a kerfuffle in the main room. Six wolves stared at the two figures in the dim light. Brach turned to his mate. ‘Achak, wake up the Young Vixen’
The Edge of Twilight 10 - Introductions As the small group of travellers approached a clearing in the forest it was an awestruck Young Vixen who seemed lost in her thought, she didn’t notice the majestic grey-furred male wolf waiting at the far side watching them.
The Edge of Twilight – The Journey The sun had barely risen above Woodland Trails when Bel and the Old Fox gently woke the sleeping Young Vixen. The elegant figure of Zuzu was sat in the parlour sipping tea and waiting.
The Edge of Twilight 8 – Old Fox Returns It was late in the evening when the Old Fox returned. He entered Bel’s kitchen and was immediately hushed by Bel. ‘Let her sleep,’ Bel whispered, nodding her head towards the Young Vixen sleeping in the chair by the fire.
The Edge of Twilight 7 – The Young Vixen’s Surprise The next morning a small group of foxes made their way through the Dark Forest. The Young Vixen and stood with Bel and the Old Fox as Vanda and the cubs disappeared with two muscular dog foxes.
Edge of Twilight 6 – Gone Missing The next day the Young Vixen was woken by the sharp knocking at her door. As she opened it three boisterous cubs rushed past her and she saw Vanda standing there, her face weary with worry. ‘Come in,’ said the Young Vixen.
The Young Vixen had managed to convince Bel to employ Vanda and Reynard. Bel had been unsure, but the Young Vixen had argued it would look more professional. In return she had promised to tempt the Old Fox into joining them too. ‘He’d would look so dapper in some of her more gentlemanly fashions,’ Bel had said.
The Edge of Twilight 4 – TV and Pizza The following day Si was sat in his plush leopard-print office, beneath what he called his penthouse flat which in fact was the two storeys above his photographic shop, watching re-runs of ‘The Dogs of Chaos’ on the floor to ceiling pencil thin plasma tv.
Edge of Twilight 3 – The Young Vixen’s Dilemma The words of the Masked Bandit haunted the Young Vixen in the days following their confrontation. In normal circumstances she would have talked things out with the Old Fox, hoping he would have some gem of wisdom to help her. This time she was under no illusions, if she told the Old Fox what Rigby Raccoon had said to her, he would be insistent she gave up her new job.
Edge of Twilight 2 - The Masked Bandit Reynard gave his permission to the Young Vixen but with one proviso – he did not care for nudity in advertising and she was to keep her modesty at all times.
Edge of Twilight Part 1 As they sat on the old wooden bench at the edge of twilight the Old Fox and the Young Vixen stared into the fading horizon. They snacked on pink sherbet popcorn and drank the remains of a bottle of alcohol-free wine.
Flash Fiction - Romance A misty rain was falling making the amber street lights shimmer as the clubland folk started hustled through the town centre looking for a good time. I sheltered in a shop doorway opposite the cluster of pale-yellow lights that hung over the fountain and watched the water drops play while I waited for Kim to arrive.
A cosy night in. Good wine, good food and hot sex. Is there any better way of celebrating your first anniversary?
Flash Fiction 350 - Fantasy Langstone Crescent had once been the elite part of town, where the privileged wealthy had set up home. Now, the once height of fashion homes looked shabby and rundown as the rest of the town. Still Margot Jennings tried to keep lofty standards and still considered herself a cut above the other inhabitants of the town.
Flash Fiction 350: Erotica Last night he had come to her call for help. He hadn’t said a word but drove her home in silence as she babbled the excuses for her presence at the pub on the wrong side of town. He had said it was a bad idea and she wasn’t to go but she did anyway.
Flash Fiction 350: Crime Two weeks ago, Tess White had been found dead in her parents’ apartment. She had come in late from a party complaining of feeling unwell. Her parents had assumed it was a result of too much alcohol.
Flash Fiction 350 word limit Genre: Sci-fi It had been some years since they had started living among us. I was just a child when they first arrived and don’t really remember the transition of Earth being a human planet to a home to beings from many worlds. To me that was normal. In fact I loved the diversity.
Flash Fiction I have lost count of the days that I have been here. They are just notch marks on the branches that make the walls of the hut I built. And I built that a fair few notches ago. The only life I have seen in all that time has been seagulls and fish and they don’t say much.
Flash Fiction Serial During the second winter, Arina’s health began to fail. It was shortly after my graduation from school when she collapsed that first time. Even the doctors put it down to the excitement of the day.
Romantic Flash Fiction Helena, she was my perfection. From girl to woman I had watched her grow, always showing her the natural clarity of her beauty.
I got home to a letter from my pen pal, Lynne, in England. Inside were photographs and postcards from her holiday, each numbered on the back, so I could follow the descriptive within her letter.
Across the crowded dance floor, I saw her. Her soft blonde hair cascading in loose curls over her shoulders. Her sparkling eyes staring into the darkness of the room. Her lips curling softly under the ruby gloss.
One morning in late spring Loban was sat in the kitchen finishing his breakfast. I sat sipping tea and he looked at me. ‘Kip, it has been quiet too long!’
Even months after escaping the grip of the System and finding freedom I cannot quite get used to being able speak freely and without fear. Even the simple act of writing my journals would have found me put before a firing squad. Expressing the truth or an opinion carried an automatic death sentence. They could not stop the mind from thinking though.