The dream-catcher

(100-word flash fiction)

Happy as a lark he is, going about his dream-catcher’s job. Capturing dreams that people gave up, and safeguarding them until they wished to rekindle their dream, when he would give it back.

His is the dream job but secretly he sometimes wished people didn’t give up so easily on their dreams.

Today, he almost quit.

This dream had floated up, light-blue and translucent, all dolphin playfulness, gamboling like a frisky puppy, making him give chase until, laughing, he caught it. And then, dream and he, tripped and fell. And it broke.

An orphan’s dream it was, to be adopted.

~~~

A little whimsy and a tad sad after a not-too-good day. Thanks Rochelle for keeping us on track with working out our fiction-writing muscles 🙂 Lovely photo, I wonder if Jean made it himself / herself.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

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Colours

(flash fiction)

Eyes almost cobalt, Neil was her blue-eyed boy.  Amber with hair to match and a temper on-the ready to flare . Born yellow with jaundice, Sunny lived on to fill the house with laughter. Petal, dear Petal, with parrot eyes and always rescuing animals. Indigo, her daydreamer child, mostly lost in Piscean waters.

She hears their voices in the deep of night. Sees their faces in vibrant colour behind closed eye-lids.

She remembers how they were taken away,  one by one,  only she can’t remember why.

That must be when the colours started to leave her.  Now she sees the world only in monochrome.

Or, perhaps, grays are the only colours in the psychiatric ward.

Another phone composition in the dead of night. Because I’m addicted? All thanks to Rochelle. I  blame her 😁😆😂🤣
Photo prompt –

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Click on the frog picture to add your link.

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

Click the dancing frog to join the fun. 

 

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

Click to Add your story to the inLinkz

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!