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Post 16. Tuesday January 1616

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

When he was a child he had a plan; a plan to take him to where he wanted to be. But his goal was like buried treasure at the end of a rainbow. With every step forward it moved one step away.

He asked his grandfather for advice. “Lad,” he said, "to reach life’s goals you must run when you can”. But he ran too fast stumbling along the way leaving a trail of failures in his tracks. “Walk if you have to” he’d said. But he walked with head bowed passing so many of the opportunities that life offered him. “Crawl if you must,” his grandfather said. He crawled, he pleaded, he begged, but beseeching gained no favours.

When his grandfather passed away, black clouds of despair covered the blue sky of hope. The last words he’d uttered echoed in his mind. “Never give up lad” he’d said. With that, a rainbow appeared. He gazed heavenward. “I won’t let you down Grandad” he yelled.

This week's picture is provided by @any1mark66

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Post 1653. Tuesday, December 19

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Dinah dragged a brush through her hair, sucked in her tummy and smiled.

“Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the....”

Crash! It fell down and smashed to bits. So she went to the one in the bathroom.

“Mirror mirror on the wall who’s the .......”

It suddenly steamed up.

“I get it” she said. “You mirrors don’t have the heart to show me what you see, so from tomorrow... no, the day after tomorrow I’ll eat fruit instead of a chocolate,  a spoon less sugar to help my medicine go down and stop snacking in front of the telly. That way I’ll shed all this weight and I will be the fairest of them all.”

It didn’t last long though. So she got herself a new bedroom mirror. It was one of those funny ones you see in the in a Hall of Mirrors at the fun fair that make you look skinny when you're not! Dinah liked what she saw. It behaved itself, stayed put and made her look...well, pretty good actually!



Word count 174

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting and Yinglan for the picture.

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Post 1649. Tuesday December 12

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

What’s today? Monday? No, it’s Friday because I just ate fish and chips. There’s my plate. See? Yes, Friday.

I had a good memory once. I used to take part in quizzes.

I did – didn’t I?

Why is this happening to me? Why me? It makes me so ANGRY!

Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to shout.

It’s like mind is trying to look through a misted window. It makes out shapes but not the detail.

You wouldn't understand, why should you?

Who are you anyway?

My son? What son?

You’re an imposter. You are just after my money.

Sorry son. Sorry. Please forgive me.


My nurse is lovely. Jenny. No, Jacqui. I think.

You’d like her. She has the most beautiful black hair.

She understands me. She wipes my misty window, and for a few precious moments, everything makes sense.

But then it steams up again and I forget what I remembered.

Anyway, cheer up. We're having fish and chips tonight!  Do you want some? Julie will be bringing it soon.

She has the most beautiful blonde hair.

Thanks, Priceless Joy for hosting and Yarnspinnerr for the picture.

Word count 175

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Post 1645. December 5

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

A cat wandered into my apartment the other day, and no matter how often I sent it away it kept coming back. And yesterday it leaped into my car with me! Don’t laugh, it’s not funny. I mean, why on earth did it choose me? If cats are so clever, how come it doesn’t know I have a deep dislike of like them? Dogs, masters, cats, servants and all that.

My friends think it’s hilarious. Let it sit on your lap they say. No, I say. Take it for a walk on a lead they say. No, I say, I’d feel a right clot!

It asked for some milk the other day. I didn’t have any so I gave it a bowl of yogurt instead. It lapped it up then went hyper! Jumping, climbing the walls, somersaulting! Ok, that last part’s pure fiction, but it did send it a bit do-lally! I’ll try giving it that cream liqueur stuff next! Baileys, that’s it.

Anyway, it looks like I'm stuck with it so meeow for now!

Word count 169

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting and Enisa for the photo.

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Post 1640. Tuesday November 21

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

We used to love sitting here watching the setting sun, didn’t we? I remember one day we had a trivial conversation along the lines of ‘how’s work, how’s your mum, what did you have for lunch, you need a haircut... will you marry me?’ You should have seen your face. You had a fit of giggles and said ‘no!’ Then you looked me in the eye and said ‘of course I’ll marry you’

Then your sun set, too soon. Why? I blamed myself. I blamed your family, I blamed the doctors, I blamed God. How dare he? I was angry, so angry. But it was nobody’s fault. These things happen. To some. To you.

That was a long time ago, and here I am watching the setting sun again, just as we used to. The bench is still here; it's a bit weather-worn and wobbly, a bit like me. That oak tree’s still over there. It doesn’t look a day older, unlike me! There’s one thing missing. You are missing. You.

Word count 169

Thank you Priceless Joy for hosting and Footy and Feedy for the photo (I love a bit of alliteration!)

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Post 1635. Tuesday November 14

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

I should have seen

the writing on the wall

but I didn't

I never asked

when she came home late

why.

I never asked

when she took those calls

from whom

she’s left, but why?

no warning, no reason

no note

this morning a kiss goodbye

as usual

quite normal

now her things are gone

everything except

her ring

she’s gone

but where, who with ?

what went wrong?

I should have seen

the writing on the wall

but I didn't

Word count 78

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting and any1mark66 for the picture.

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Post 1627. Tuesday October 30

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Whilst wandering twixt the trees I came upon a little man slumped upon the leaf-strewn forest floor. As I ambled towards him he gazed at me through tear-drenched eyes. A sorrowful shroud of loneliness hung over his sagging shoulders, his soul as empty as the abandoned termite’s nest against which he leaned. I sensed his pain and knew my charge was to offer him succor to soothe his sadness. I reached into my pocket and flung a shower of shimmering stars into the air. As they fluttered down and settled around him he smiled and as he did, the sun cast off its cloak of cloud and bathed him in a pool of gold. He stood, smiled, turned, and was gone. Never will I know what troubled him, nor need I, for my task was done. I love being an angel!

Word count 144

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting and Yarnspinnerr for the picture of what I hope is a termite's nest!

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Post 1623. Tuesday October 24

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Just twenty minutes until my job interview. I mustn’t be late. I checked the address on the letter then set off. Five minutes later I was lost.

I asked a passing priest for help. ‘Walk until you reach St Peter’s church, turn left and it’s on your right’ he said. I crossed myself and trotted off. Five minutes later I was lost.

I spotted a chap on a bench swigging a can of beer and asked him for directions. ‘Walk to the Flying Fish, turn right and it’s there’ he slurred. Five minutes later... you guessed!

I stopped a little old lady. ’See the retirement home?’ she squeaked, ‘turn left there, left, and left again’ Five minutes later I was back where I started.

Surprisingly I made it and got the job! On the way back I donated to an old folks charity, said a prayer of thanks in the church and popped into the pub for a celebratory drink. Twenty minutes later I stepped outside tripped and fell flat on my face.

‘Can you direct me to the emergency department?’ I asked a passing stranger.

*I originally used the term A&E in the last sentence, but have now changed it to the emergency department as it seemed to confuse my readers from outside the UK!


This week's photo is supplied by Dorothy.

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Post 1617. Tuesday October 17

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

I should have seen the writing on the wall. He’s no good they said. Look what he did to her they said. That was their own fault said I. He loves me. How wrong I was.

You’re safe now they said. A safe house, he can’t trouble you now. But they lied. They bloody lied because he’s here. I can see him through the crack in the closet doors. He's over there, see? There, wandering to and fro, fro and to, a crowbar clenched in his white-knuckled fist.  He’s going from one room to another, up the stairs and down again. Room to room, room to room, this way and that, that way and...this.  My heart is beating, he’s getting closer, my heart is throbbing, he's snarling, I’m dizzy, he’s reaching for the door, I’m..I’m..I’m….

It’s a safe house they said. You're safe now they lied.

121 words.

This week's photo is by Gant-Sud.

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Post 1613. Tuesday October 10

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 136

As a child, he would sit on the towpath and wave to passing barges loaded with heaps of coal and piles of timber, dragged along by enormous plodding horses. He was fascinated by the brightly painted flowerpots and kettles scattered along their roofs, and sagging lines of washing fluttering in the breeze. How he envied the urchin children that ran around the decks without a care in the world.

He longed to become a bargee when he grew up, a grimy-faced captain with rolled up sleeves proudly guiding his boat and family along meandering narrow canals. But it wasn't to be.

Barges no longer silently ply their trade along the waterways of rural England. Now they travel the rivers, horses replaced by throbbing diesel engines belching clouds of smoke.

He still sits on the towpath, but now just holidaymakers float past oblivious to the fact that generations lived and toiled where they now enjoy their wine and fine food. He no longer waves.

Word count 163

Thank you Priceless Joy for hosting, and Barb CT for the picture.

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Post 1612. Tuesday October 3

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

A girl sits cross-legged on the grass. In her hand, a flickering candle. 'All you need is love' she whispers. One by one the village folk join her. 'All you need is love' they sing.

Somewhere in Russia, a devushka wanders into a square clutching a candle. Minutes later the square is filled with people singing. 'Vvse, chto tebe nuzhno - eto lyubov'. All you need is love.

Across the Latin world, joyful crowds gather. ‘Todo lo que necesitas es amor’ they sing as golden flames dance to the tune.

Across Africa, Asia and the Middle East people join in song. The world is illuminated by candles, brightened by song. To the east, south, north, and the farthest west they sing.

In war-torn countries, they lay down their arms and pick up candles. Sworn enemies sing together. 'Kl ma tahtaj 'iilayh hu alhabu'. Suddenly the world is a happy place, we sing as one. All you need is love.

Then all is quiet. A girl sits alone on the grass. ‘Love is all we need' she whispers…..

Word count 176

My story was inspired by this week's picture which has kindly been provided by Elaine Farrington Johnson.