Clean up

(100-word flash fiction)

“Ugh!”

She surveys the bench-top, disgust billowing within her. All the evidence points to his visit. Mess, filth. Disorder.

She has to find a way of keeping him out. Even if it means killing him.

Poison, she decides. That will be slow and sure. She was never the one for violence.

She plans her next move carefully. How and when. And most importantly, how much. She’s sure there’s some in the cupboard. The same cupboard he has messed up not knowing his death was sitting right there, right where his dirty paws had touched.

“Hunh! You’re dead, you dirty rodent!”

***

Genre : Frivolous thriller non-fiction 🙂

And so, thanks to Rochelle the eclectic group of Fictioneers fictioneering on Friday meet again 🙂

Photo prompt –

PHOTO PROMPT @ A. Noni Mouse

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Signals

(100-word flash fiction)

“Another mocktail?”

“Sure!” she says, laughing. He sidles closer.

GREEN, he thinks.

“I’ve told you my entire life story but all I know is your name.”

“My life’s so boring. Nothing ever happens.”

“To a drop-dead gorgeous girl like you?”

“Truth!” She says, inching closer and dropping her voice. “My father won’t let me do anything. He’s all powerful and all.”

AMBER. AMBER.

“He can’t be the President!” He does manage a nervous laugh.

“He’s a gang leader, a Godfather or something.” She speaks directly into his ear. “I have 6 disguised bodyguards scattered around, watching us.”

RED. RED. RED.


Thanks to the wonderful Rochelle, here we meet again 🙂 I am happy I wrangled another story out of the muse. I must admit it’s hard sometimes because it’s bedtime here and the brain does not always co-operate when all it wants is to do is zone out. 🙂 This this story does not make sense to you, now you know 🙂

credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehudah

 

Mangoes

(100-word flash fiction)

It all started with mangoes. There she was, hiding among her backyard trees, wolfing down the juicy, golden fruit. An innocent teen, cloistered in the inner courtyard of a Brahmin household, far from the eyes of the world.

The crash had startled the mango from her grasp. A young, ripped body had followed the fallen coconut down the tree. She had burst out laughing. He had fallen in love. Well! She too. Isn’t whatever is forbidden the most enticing?

Eventually, her folks found out. She was married off, hastily, to a Brahmin boy. His body was found in a ditch.

This is something that could very easily have happened 100 years ago in the south of India, in the coconut palm laden villages. Brahmin girls and women were cloistered and not allowed to move about in public view. Their contact with men was limited to only close family members and so, sometimes when they accidentally met men, like in this case, the coconut-feller, who would have been from a lower caste, romance blossomed. It was usually cut short with the girl’s marriage and the guy’s exile or death.

Many thanks, once again, to our head-mistress Rochelle, who keeps us Friday Fictioneers in line ♥

Photo prompt –

PHOTO PROMPT © Todd Foltz

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Fall

(100-word flash fiction)

He fell from the 10th floor balcony, free- falling onto Mother Earth like a home-coming son.

At exactly the same time, on the 5th floor, Bill pulled out a gun and fired. Luckily for Ben he had quicksilver reflexes. The bullet whizzed past his ear sailing through the open window, hitting the totally unexpected falling body passing outside. Even Bill was horrified at the soft thunk.

They couldn’t decide if the fall killed him or the bullet. Or if he was already dead when he fell?

The case was closed without concluding if it was suicide or murder or accident.

******

So much death in the news, can’t escape it. I fear I might get unsensitised. Rochelle, you’re doing a great job bringing us all together for Friday Fictioneers. A big thank you to you ♥

Photo prompt –

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

CLICK!

Deflated

(100-word flash fiction)

‘Deflated’ her mind intones while she watches Barry slowly crumble as he puts the phone down. ‘Punctured’. She feels the energy seep out of him.

“Was that your boss?” His chin sinks in answer.

Long days and nights at the office. Birthdays forgotten. Missed graduation. Fights, tears, then stony silence.

She is numb as these vignettes march across her mind. She would have reached out to comfort him but his workaholism has put a chasm between them, filled with searing absence, with bitter resentment that he chose his job over them.

Instead, she asks, “Who got the job?”

“Hot-air Harry!”

***

Thanks Rochelle for hosting yet another scintillating Friday Fictioneers party 🙂

Photo prompt –

PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

CLICK ON THE FROG for other FF stories

The last chip

(100-word flash fiction)

She bit into the last chip, its salty crispiness flooding her mouth. She was so ravenous for comfort that she forgot.

It was only when he entered the room that she remembered. The last of everything was to be ALWAYS his, the last cookie, the last piece of cake, the last chip.

“I was hungry,“ she stammered, as he examined the packet, almost banal in its emptiness.

The first blow caught her in mid-whimper.  The second landed her on the floor. The boot knocked her out.

The lock-down is on. No one will see her bruises for a long time.

***

Domestic violence cases have gone up by more than 20% since the lock-down started. Violence is so much on the mind, I couldn’t find any playfulness 😦

***

I hope all of you in the US are safe. Thanks Rochelle for hosting the fabulous Friday Fictioneers fabulously, as always.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Click the frog for adventures in literature!

 

Unrequited love

(100-word flash fiction)

The toad was heart-broken. He had spent the summer, belting out the most melodious croaks, while she remained unmoved. All his mates had spawned families that were frolicking in gay abandon, while he mooned over this divine other-worldly creature.

Not surprisingly, he was the talk of the entire pond. Toad families came to gaze at him even as he gazed at his loved one, quite lost in the throes of love. Poetic toads were even writing ballads about his unrequited love.

Finally, his mother arrived, took one look and gagged in incredulity, “How can you have toadlets with a lotus?”

*****

Wanted to stay clear of seriousness, as there is too much of it in the real world. Much love to Rochelle for hosting the wonderfully eclectic Friday Fictioneers. 🙂

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

Click on the froggie to read all the other stories.

Band aid

(100-word flash fiction)

She was hooked the very first time. The music pulsated through her, crackling, drumbeating, laughing, dancing, exploding, just as surely as any drug. How could she resist when adventure called?

Dan, the stable guy, was soon dispatched.

Thirty years later, here they are, quietly sipping tea.

“You wrote a book, I hear.” He breaks a long silence.

She knows he hasn’t read it, but lets it pass.

“You didn’t marry, Dan? What about the kids and family life you wanted?”

“You have five.”

“The stars, they never wanted their kids to carry their name. I gave them yours, Dan Jones.”

***

Groupies were also called ‘band aids’

***

Thanks Rochelle for hosting another excellent episode of the Friday Fictioneers 🙂

Photo prompt below –

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

Come on along and click the dancing frog to join the fun!

Aloha

(100-word flash fiction)

Melania is infuriated.

Everyone else’s in lockdown, having a break, but she is still expected to get up, dress up and turn up. She’s tired of pretending to listen, pretending to look intelligent, pretending to care.

She would rather take long baths and catch up with what the Kardashians are doing.

But, this is the last straw. Day in and day out, even to official meetings, her husband now wears this floral cap that says ‘Aloha!’

Trump’s logic. “If you run away from the virus, it will catch you. But if you welcome it, it will run away from you.”

————-

Couldn’t resist a wee dig at our chief entertainer.

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For the Fiday Fictioneers prompt, head over to our chief shepheress’ page. For more stories, click on the colourful frog icon below.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

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The quarry

(100-word flash fiction)

He’s already tired of the 21st century. People wore far too many clothes. Sweat gathers under his disguise of bright floral tunic and the matching cap squashes his golden curls.

Jove’s brief had been clear and after many moons he has found his quarry. Here she is, emerging from this seaside shack.

What? No. Of all the nubile nymphs Jove has seduced, she is the skinniest. Why, he himself could boast more curves. As she sashays closer, he almost drops his tools in shock. She’s a MAN.

But, no time for distractions.  Cupid raises his bow and arrow and aims.

—————————————————–

Jove is another name for the Roman god Jupiter.

****

Thanks Rochelle for hosting yet another party of Friday Fictioneers.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

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