Tag Archives: flash fiction

Dusk – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

I hated to do it, but I had to get up and stretch.  After sitting for hours I was getting pretty stiff.  I was afraid, though I knew he’d forgive me if I missed him.  My sister, Martha, gave me a look that was both questioning and understanding.  It had been a very long day.

The sky was just beginning to catch the evening fire as I walked out of the back door.  I went to the edge of the yard, stopped and watched as the sun dipped towards the lake.

I had forgotten how beautiful it was around Mom and Dad’s house.

Memories of my childhood came back.  Playing in the fields just behind my parent’s house.  Swims in the lake.  Hikes in the hills.  I remembered the forts in the woods I made and lazy rainy days watching out of the window.

Dad and I had a major falling out when I was in my early 20s.  It was funny, I couldn’t ever remember exactly what it was about, but the resentments lingered.  As his sunset years approached, I reached out, tentatively at first.  We started to meet over at Martha’s house and last summer he had stayed with me. Continue reading




PHOTO PROMPT © Marie Gail Stratford

We entered the house, me in front, followed by Ben, who I knew held the gun.  He couldn’t see my smile.

My partner, Rose, would be out of sight and be able to strike Ben before he knew she was there.

Walking into the kitchen with confidence, I noticed the note.

“Finish the job or I nip this flower in the bud.”

“Rose?” I called out.

“Mr. Ng arrived first,” Ben said.

I turned to him.

“It’s you or her.”  He smiled.  “Partner.”  It wasn’t a nice smile.

I saw the dead flowers as we left and thought of Rose.

— — —

Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © Marie Gail Stratford.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

— — Continue reading

Between – #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

I had no idea where we were.  Sami, who was our impromptu navigator, said we were someplace southwest of Paris.  We had avoided the big cities.  Actually, we even avoided the villages.  We were afraid we would be sent back, sent back to death.

We had passed through field after field of yellow flowers.  Rasha told us that they were rapeseed.  She is the smartest of us and had been a Uni professor when the University was still in session, before it had been made into a rebel base and bombed.

A little dirt access road ran between two rapeseed fields.  The sun was high and there wasn’t a soul in sight.  We decided to take a break and have lunch.

It was a beautiful place, so full of peace.  I said that I wished we could stop here and live in these fields forever.  Everyone laughed. Continue reading


PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

I stared down the barrel of Ben’s pistol.  Why wasn’t I dead?

“Where is it?” He jabbed with the gun.

So, Ben was double-crossing Mr. Ng.

“It’s in Canada.”

“Canada?  That’s an awfully big country.”

I smiled.  “That’s why you need me.  Partners?”  I held out a hand.

“Partners.”  Ben shook my hand.

I reached for my gun.  “No, you stay unarmed.”  I shrugged.  He needed me.

48 hours later we landed at Mirabel.  We hit the suburbs by midnight.

It was snowing; from sweating to shivering in 2 days.

The house contained my real partner, not the attaché case.

— — —

Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © Dale Rogerson.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

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Note – This is a continuation of last week’s story, On the Run.  Come on Rochelle, why did you have to make it so hard with this choice of photos? ;)

Note 2 – I used to be an Air Traffic Controller and handed planes off to Montreal.  At that time, we called the airport Mirabel.  When I looked it up, the name had changed!  OK, so I still call DCA “National” and will never call it “Reagan”, so I will always call Montreal “Mirabel”…

Sanctuary, Part 2 – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

I walked slowly through the garden.  It was greatly reduced from the grand, wild place it had been when I was a child.  Most of the whimseys had been removed, but the most important was still in place.

All of the land for miles in all directions had been owned by my father and our ancestors.  From a slight rise I could see the fields and houses through the trees.  Most were owned by the grandchildren and the great-grandchildren of people who had been my father’s servants.  There also many new comers, though most of those lived in town.

It had snowed earlier in the day, leaving a thin, white blanket over the land.  The branches of the trees still had a coating, causing the woods to appear as a magical fairyland of crystal. Continue reading

On the Run



An unknown town in a little-known country.  It would be safe.

I walked along the quay, heading for the dilapidated hotel.  The rainbow hues of the river were chopped by heavy traffic; the pier’s bustle a conflagration of noise and activity.    At only 9 AM, I was already sweating.

The receptionist didn’t know English, French, or Spanish.  Hard cash, as always, was clearly understood.

I tossed my backpack onto the bed, my .45 Semi-Automatic as well.  I went into the washroom.  Returning, I met Ben, his gun aimed at me.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

— — —

Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © JS Brand.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

Note: this was continued with Partners  and Rose.  I also started a long version.

Shrine – #writephoto


Photo by Sue Vincent

We were rushed for time and the last thing I wanted to do was visit an old estate.  But I caught a quick glimpse through the hedge of giant manor and something pulled at me.  I had to stop.

“What are you doing?” Vish asked.  She’s our lead singer.

“I want to see if they allow public here.  You know, tours or anything.”

She rolled her eyes at me.

I understood.  We had a once in a lifetime opportunity, six UK concerts.  We rented some equipment and, after our London shows, we rented a “lorry”, though it looked like a small delivery truck to us.  The rest of the guys crammed into the truck and drove to the next gig, but Vish and I wanted to visit some of the great historical sites.  Places that we’d only dreamed about back in the States.  You might not think we’re the cultural type, but I could never pass up an opportunity to visit places that had been made famous by the Stones, The Kinks, The Sex Pistols, The Clash and other heroes.

Manor houses were definitely not on the list. Continue reading

The Spirits of the Trees


PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Tera laughed all of the way to my parent’s house.  When we got there, though, her face fell.

Opening the back door, she ran out into the field instead of towards her grandparents.

Last time we were there, I had noticed that the two beautiful trees in the field had died.  Now they were just stumps and piles of logs.

Tera approached my mom, tears in her eyes.  “Grandma, what about the fairies?  Where did they go when the trees were chopped down?”

Isn’t she old to believe in fairies?

But Mom knew.  “I planted new trees.  They’ll be back.”

— — —

Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © Sandra Crook.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

Woodland – Part 2

I could not leave well enough alone ;)  I used some of the comments to come up with a part two of our poor intergalactic deer’s adventure. (Part 1)

The large ship winked into existence.  It was still traveling an astonishing fraction of the speed of light towards the star.  They had just lost a ship in this system and were looking for survivors.

Telemetry raised her antler-like antenna and thought, “Captain.  We have evidence that an emergency pod was launched.  It crashed into the third planet.”

“Set a course for the third planet,” the captain said using psi powers.

The massive matter-antimatter engines came to life, yet inside the starship all was still.  The GAS, Gravity-Antiacceleration-Shielding, was doing its job.  It wasn’t long before the mighty ship entered orbit in full stealth mode, just in case there were life forms able to detect their presence.

Telemetry used her third set of appendages to touch the equipment, usually unnecessary with her psi-powers, then brought them back in so she appeared a four legged creature.  “Orbit confirmed,” she thought.

“Emergency pod located,” Science and Scanning (S&S) thought.  “An individual from planet Odocoileus has been located.”

“Launch rescue craft,” the captain thought. Continue reading

Woodland – #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

I crawled out of the wreckage of the emergency pod.  How had I survived?  I couldn’t see any signs of other parts of the ship.  I shouldn’t have been surprised.  At a quarter of the speed of light it would have hit the star around a half an hour after I had ejected.  If it had hit this planet at that speed, well, there wouldn’t have been much left standing.

For the first time I realized I had no suit on, that I was in the open.  I briefly panicked, but then calmed down.  If I wasn’t dead yet, I figured, I shouldn’t worry.  Luckily the atmosphere had plenty of oxygen, so I could breathe unaided.

I looked around, taking my bearings.

I was in some sort of woodland, not too different from how Home must have looked thousands of years ago.  My heart sank.  I knew that there had been no contact with this system, but I had hoped that there was intelligent life and perhaps even a civilization.  I was going to be stuck on the planet for quite a while, if not the rest of my life, and didn’t want to learn basic survival at this late stage.  Give me a good city with some cocktails over camping out any day. Continue reading