Tag Archives: micro fiction

Great Aunt Isabel

shoes-and-books-by-magaly-guerrero

PHOTO PROMPT © Magaly Guerrero

Margret talked about her Great Aunt Isabel from the day I met her.  The matriarch of her clan had done everything, been everywhere.  Her family lived in this larger-than-life character’s enormous shadow.  Perhaps “great” was a title or description, not a generational mark.

I was nervous when I finally met her.   As we waited in the parlor, I noticed the stacks of oversized books here and there, and the random platform shoes tossed carelessly about.

When the giant of Margret’s family arrived, I went into shock.  She could barely see the table top, even seated on her stack of books. Continue reading

Final Celebration

dale-rogerson-pizza

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

I knew there was trouble when she left a message that she was celebrating our 15th anniversary.

It had been 15 years since the divorce, not the marriage.

Hey lady, we split because you had the affair, not me.  If my second marriage worked and yours didn’t, well, I’m sorry.

She didn’t answer or return my calls.  That was bad.

I used my spare to key to enter her apartment.  It was filthy.

I found the partially eaten pizza with the powder on top, the empty medicine vials and the half bottle of wine.  Then I saw the body.

Word count = 99

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.

Shadows of the Heart

jellico3

PHOTO PROMPT © Jellico’s Stationhouse

Mom tried to hide her tears when she was in my room.  I only smiled.

It was spring.  I knew Mom had gone down to the park for her walk.  I’m sure the park was filled with kids with their kites and balls and bikes.  I could imagine them playing and running and riding.

With my eyes I could only see the blank ceiling, but with my mind I could see more, the shadows etched in heart.  I knew what Mom saw as well; a shadow of my forever empty, lonely bicycle, the one that I’d never ride again.

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Authentic Pirate Cruise!

fatima-fakier-deria1

PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria

The sign said, “Harbour Cruise on a Pirate Ship!”  The three-master seemed out of place amongst the huge cargo ships, but we had to do it.

I was surprised that before we reached open water, the captain steered us between two hulking vessels.  We were soon surrounded by skiffs, the masked crewmen all carrying AK-47s.

The passengers were taken out, distributed in the small boats and then blindfolded.  The skiffs motored around for a while before returning us to the pier, where blindfolds were removed.

By the time I realized my wallet was missing, the ship and sign were gone.

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Security

Mansion through gate and trees

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

I had previously only seen the mansion from the road, the faded glory only a glimpse behind the fence and trees.  I knew that back in the day it was meant to be seen as a sign of wealth.  We were sneaking in the back way.

“Are you sure nobody watches this?”

“Positive.  Nobody will mess with their security.”

We entered the mansion in the pitch dark.

“You contradicted yourself there.”

“Nope.”

“So, if nobody watches the place, what’s their security?”

A glow met us at the end of the hall.  It resolved itself into a decomposing woman.

“Ghosts.”

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