Friday Flash: Sacrifice

This Friday Flash is based on this picture from wiki commons:

He staggered forward and fell to his knees. The gray stone in front of him was silent and unmoving. Rough to the touch, when he pressed his fingers against it. He imagined he was tracing the soft, worn cotton of his mother’s dress.

Why had she done it? Even for her, the sacrifice was breathtaking.

“Son, she -”


The word hit the air like a shard of ice in boiling water, soon to disappear under his father’s gaze. Like his mother had disappeared.

He pushed himself to his feet. “This is your doing. Yours. Don’t give me any shit about her choices. You never let her have choices.”

Bitterness coated his words like ice in winter. He wished he taken her away from this a long time ago. Somewhere south, to a warmer, softer land. “I am leaving. I am not coming back.”

“Her sacrifice will be for nothing. She gave herself to the ceremony to make you head -”

“Her sacrifice was for your dreams. Not mine. May you have the best of it, Father.”

He was leaving. He couldn’t stay here any longer.

flash friday · Short Story · Writing

Friday Flash: Land Grave

So . . . yeah I had speeches on the brain today. Don’t ask me why.

Greetings, my people

I come to you today fresh from the land grave of my beloved daughter.

She has surpassed all expectations. She has left this world, but she took with her many hundreds of the enemy. Hundreds more of them may yet follow, as their frail mortal flesh deteriorate in hardship.

Her forward waters and winds caused such damage to the enemy as to make recovery a long, costly affair. Their homes are destroyed and most mortals in the vicinity are left without life’s essentials.

We do not intend to allow the enemy such time as they need to recover.

To this end we have sent our youngest son to their shores, to coat their world in ice and darkness.

For the first time in her life, our second daughter knows joy. The poison the enemy slips into our waters has crippled her limbs, but in the wake of our enemy’s destruction, she knows joy. As do your children.

Our people who are poisoned, we shall starve the enemy in turn. Our people who are dying, you shall be avenged! We will poison their earth, as they have poisoned our waters.

And we shall live! We will move forward as the true heirs of this world.

Our waters will rule.

We will rule.

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.



Friday Flash: Food

I got a Friday flash! This one was inspired by Madison’s image prompt:

She stared at the copse of dead trees and the single raven perched on blackened branches.

The spell was supposed to bring her food. Despairing, she gazed down at the yellowed paper. The master had written Food Spell in his typical, cramped writing across the top of the page.

She sighed, gathered her empty satchel and scrambled over the hot sands to rest against the tree bark.

The raven made an odd sound above her. She looked up. It opened its beak, dropping a mouse into her lap.

She yelped. The mouse ran, probably soon to die in the desert.