flash friday · General · Short Story · Writing

Undead

This flash was inspired by the letter U!

She pondered the picture.

It showed a lady, dead from drowning. She knew that face.

She glanced over her shoulder at the rest of her class; they wandered the room, looking up at the photographs on the wall. Her teacher was across the room, with most of the kids.

She turned back to the picture. It was colored, but not pretty. She took a step a closer and peered closer at the woman’s face.

She took her wallet out of her bag and slipped out a picture hidden away behind her school id and transport card. The black-and-white photo was yellow with age and tattered at the edges. Grandmother was young in this picture; she grinned into the camera, knee-deep in the ocean, holding up her printed maxi out of the water.

She studied the picture on the wall, then her wallet picture and back again.

“Girls and boys!” The teacher clapped her hands. “Gather around now. I want to introduce to artist. She composed these photographs with herself as the model.”

A woman who looked exactly like the picture of her grandmother stood beside the teacher.

flash friday · Short Story · Writing

Friday Flash: A Wish for Power

I don’t believe this flash has a story or even constitutes a complete scene. Maybe a complete scene. But it’s the only thing in my head right now. That’s probably a sign of exhaustion. I am posting due to encouragement from Twitter. 🙂 Go Twitter!!!

Someone’s groin pressed too close, but there was no room to twitch away. The crowd was too close, noisy, and upset voices called out: “Move in, move in, move in.”

If only there was space to move in.

The bus driver shouted: “Let them off. Get off and get back in.”

No one moved, but instead held fast as the departing shoved themselves a clear path.

The bus crawled along, bypassing hordes of waiting people. Someone, exhausted, crouched on the floor. Her hands moved from purse to her folded legs, caressing many other calves, knees and ankles in the process.

People sped past on bikes and skateboards and their own legs. Below, the river was as calm as sunlight.

And then – freedom. People disappeared like flung droplets to the trains, the taxis and the still-dark streets.

A hard plastic chair never felt so good.

 

General · Short Story · Writing

Flash Friday: Quiet Contemplation

This is the first time I am doing Friday flash. Flash fiction is defined as 1000 words or less, but I am doing a 100 words only. I figure it will be easier.

As always, I found a picture to inspire me. Today’s photo prompt comes from wiki commons.

I contemplated the sight. Birdsong rang in my ears and the scent of green growing things filled my nose. I loved our new home.
So different from the war zone. I could relax without wondering if I would be alive or whole tomorrow.

I walked down to the water’s edge. My husband looked up from the rowboat and smiled. His smile sank into my soul, filled up the holes left by gunfire and blood.

“We got an hour left,” he said.

I climbed in.

He pushed off. The rocking and splash of the oars was soothing.

This was everything I needed.