Category: Flash Fiction

Monitoring the Monitor

leg-up-jhc
Photo (c) J Hardy Carroll

Monitoring the Monitor

Words 100

“I hate these senseless wars! Why can’t people be more empathetic, have more compassion? Can’t you do something?”

“We’re building a repository of all vibrations emitted by living beings.”

“Vibrations!? But why?”

“Don’t you know it all began with Om which is the vibration of the universe? Our bodies are a container of vibrations made of thoughts and emotions.”

“Hmm. So?”

“The repository will synchronize the vibrations of people, enable them feel the pain of others and stop them from hurting them. There will be no wars, no destruction, no power games.”

“But who will harmonize the vibrations?”

“I will.”

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and J Hardy Carroll for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here

 

 

 

Whimsical Notes

music-room
Photo (c) Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Whimsical Notes

Words 100

“Do your homework.” She told her seven-year-old, who was sprawled on the bed, his nose buried in a book. “I’m going to the market.”

He scrabbled up. “Market? I’m coming with you.” He hunted for his shoes.

“What?! No!” She was taken aback. “It’s only vegetable shopping. You hate that…”

“Bad things happen to girls in parking lots.” He said darkly. “I can’t do anything,” he admitted, “but I can shout for help.”

My baby, my knight!

“Would you like to learn to play the guitar?” Perhaps that would distract him.

“Does he have a mustache?”

“The teacher? Yes.”

“Okay.”

***

A true account written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and the photo prompt. To read the other stories click here

 

 

A New Breed of Terrorists

Photo (c) Fatima Fakier

A New Breed of Terrorists

Words 100

“Mamma!” A scream of pure terror rent the lazy afternoon silence.

David.

Carol’s heart stopped.

She dropped the casserole and ran out into the backyard.

She stopped short in horror.

An unkempt dark skinned man held a knife at her son’s throat.

“Stop. Stop. Stop. Please!” Carol begged falling to her knees. “What do you want? Take it. Take everything anything just leave him. Please.” She sobbed.

“I want,” His eyes were crazed, “to make you feel my pain.”

She struggled to her feet.

“A child for a child.” He waved his knife.

“No! Please!”

“Tell the President.” He vanished.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and Fatima for the photo prompt. To read and participate in the challenge click here.

The link to the picture? I am sorry but I cannot ‘see’ anything else….

Feet of Clay

bowl-and-leaves
Photo (c) Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Feet of Clay

Words 200

“Mom!” Shilpa wailed, “Look at the cake.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Reema consoled, “Layer it with cream and fruits. Your Dad will love it.” She looked at the clock. “Why isn’t Vishal back with the ice cream yet?”

“Won’t Daddy be surprised!?” Shilpa rubbed her hands in glee.

“I was surprised when so many congratulated me!” Reema bustled about. “I felt like a celebrity!”

“He’s the bestest smartest Daddy in the whole world!” Shilpa twirled.

“Vishal!” Reema gasped. “What happened?”

Shirt torn, hair askew, Vishal tottered in.

“Liars!” he spat.

“Who?”

“Everyone! They’re accusing Daddy…”

“…Of…?

“…Sexual misconduct at the workplace.”

***

PS. Not Morgan Freeman! Are there no good men?

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and the beautiful photo prompt. To read the other stories (and participate in the challenge) click here.

SPF: A Rough Draft

DSCF8715
Photo (c) Susan Spaulding

A Rough Draft

Words 200

“Well? Is it done?”

“Sort of. Whether it is well or otherwise is not for me to judge.”

“Very funny. So aren’t you going to show off?”

“Umm. Not sure whether it’s worth bragging about.”

“Come on! Are you digging for compliments?”

“From you?! Who hasn’t even looked at it once?”

“That’s a dig!”

“Haha. Very funny.”

“How does it feel to have finished the story you were working on for over two years?”

“Mostly drained.”

“That’s it?”

“So much more remains to be done!”

“You have a complete story! Go find a publisher and just rake in the moolah.”

“If only it were that easy!”

“Isn’t it?

“Before I can even think of contacting a publisher, I have to edit my novel.”

“Isn’t that the editor’s job?”

“Nope! He just draws red lines through manuscripts before throwing it in the trash.”

“Ouch!”

“Exactly. Ideally one should spend at least thrice the amount of time editing as writing.”

“Wow! You don’t like editing?”

“I do but despite the difficult subject, writing was so much fun.”

“How’s that possible?”

“It was possible thanks to all the people who kept me company through the tortuous paths and cheered me from the sidelines.”

***

A/N Sorry about that I simply couldn’t resist bragging in a (not so) roundabout way 😉 I finished Moonshine the story for which I began blogging (240 chapters!) and the reason I’ve been away – just in case any of you noticed 😛 A genuine and heartfelt thank you to all you alpha readers – silent and otherwise 🙏

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less. Thanks to Susan Spaulding for hosting the challenge and the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

When the Calling Calls

k-rawson
Photo (c) K Rawson

When the Calling Calls

Words 100

Skipping along the road of life she halted. Her eyes sparkled.

Don’t go down that road, they warned, it is a dead end.

Others said it was tricky treacherous path.

A one-way road to hell.

Quicksand that engulfs and suffocates you.

What rubbish! She tossed her mane and scoffed at the naysayers. You are such scaredy-cats and so darn negative.

We are realists, they claimed, and you but a babe in the woods. You know nothing of life, of sweat, blood, the struggle, the agony…

Perhaps, she laced her shoes, heaved her rucksack, but you can’t see what I can.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and K Rawson for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

Well did you see what I saw or was it too obscure? Do let me know!

 

Faith & Fury

mt-lemmon-with-tree
Photo (c) Jan Wayne Fields

Faith & Fury

Words 101

“Khushiiii!” Heart in his mouth Arnav ran towards the edge.

Sweating and panting, bit-by-bit, he pulled her back and into his arms, for an infinitesimal second, before going on a verbal rampage. “What the hell Khushi! Can’t you do anything right? What if something had happened dammit?”

“But nothing happened!” Khushi inspected her scraped arms. “In any case, it’s all Devi Maiyya’s* wish. If She wants me who am I to fight Her?”

Arnav’s face grew blacker.

Khushi held out her hand. “Help me.”

“Ask your precious Devi Maiyya.” He snapped.

“I did.” Khushi twinkled. “She told me to ask you.”

***

*Devi Maiyya: Mother Goddess

Side note: Just a snapshot of my favorite couple Khushi and Arnav. I didn’t mean to write about them (100 words is not enough) but they have a habit of inveigling themselves and not letting go – apologies if it didn’t make much sense.

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and Jan Wayne Fields for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

 

SPF: Life Notes

157-05-may-22nd-2016

Life Notes

Words 200

“Cheers!” They clinked glasses of preferred poisons.

“When did we last meet?” Priya asked.

“Rhea’s wedding.” Molly winked at Priya as she raised her glass in a toast to Rhea. “So Rhea, did our advice help?”

They giggled at her blank look.

“The birds and the bees.” Priya prodded.

“Oh please!” Rhea smacked her forehead. “Couldn’t you girls have given me some better advice?”

“Like what?”

“Like how disastrous it is to have a joint bank account with your spouse.” Rhea shuddered. “If only someone had told me to keep our accounts separate.”

“Money sweeter than honey.” Molly giggled.

Priya poked Molly. “What would you have done differently?”

“I would’ve prayed harder for my children to ignore me.”

They stared.

“When my children left home and promptly forgot about me, I was devastated.” Molly said. “After several tragedies, broken hearts and late night calls I realized the harsh fact of life.” She grinned. “If your loved ones don’t miss you, they are in a happy place.”

“Your turn.” They looked at Priya.

“I would’ve stayed connected.” Priya looked at them. “I would’ve stolen some time for my friends.” She swallowed. “Invested more in myself, my constant and often only companion.”

***

This photo prompt was one of my earliest (second or perhaps the third) attempts at flash fiction. You can read it here if you wish and let me know which one you prefer – if at all!

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less. Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting the challenge and the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

Another Dead End

photoa

Another Dead End

Words 101

“I hate them! I’m never going back again.” She smashed a cup.

Granny continued rocking.

“I don’t matter, only society matters. Just because Rahul’s poor….”

“…Unemployed.” Granny cut in. “Just think! No money. No roof.”

“I… we’ll stay with you Dadi. You’re lonely.”

“I don’t mind. Not now. Would Rahul like to stay so far away…? ”

“…. He would! He can draw and paint in peace.”

“And you?”

“I’ll be with him.” She giggled. “Whispering sweet nothings.”

“What’ll you eat?”

“Whatever you cook.”

“I don’t cook anymore.”

“Why not?”

Granny gave a cackle and vanished in a puff of smoke.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and Yarnspinner for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.