Category Archives: Flash Fiction

Telling stories in a few words

Writing 101 Day 5: Someone’s Lost Their Ride – 100 Word Story

Writing 101, Day 5 assignment - Be Brief 
You stumble upon a random letter on the path. You read it. It affects you deeply, and you wish it could be returned to the person to which it’s addressed. Write a story about this encounter. Today’s twist: Approach this post in as few words as possible.

“I wrote a letter to my love and on the way I lost it…” I distractedly sing the children’s rhyme, my eyes on the treacherous path. I see something…

White paper napkin, black scrawling writing, red lipstick smudges. Crumpled up. Carelessly lost. Or deliberately thrown? Placed in my path by pesky wind.

Picking it up, I read:

“8 o’clock. Be there. The ship sails. Never to return.”

Well someone’s lost their ride. I sigh, smell the rich perfume still on the paper. My fingers feel dampness. Of tears?

The church bell tolls nine times.

Tears come unbidden to my eyes.

Just don’t go there! Three trick questions to NEVER ask me!

Daily prompt: A Pulitzer-winning reporter is writing an in-depth piece – about you. What are the three questions you really hope she doesn’t ask you?

Best is to stay away from these questions:

  1. What's wrong? Nothing! Rather ask me "What's up?" or "What's on your mind?"
  2. Are you sure? Off course I'm sure, just trust what I just said ok?
  3. Why? Because... (and that's all you'll get). Rather ask me "What was your motivation for...?" or "What are you reasons for...?" or "How did you arrive at that?"

What questions do you NOT want to be asked at all?

Click here for more of WordPress bloggers’s trick questions posts.

The Purple 18-Wheeler – Part 2

She slowly came to, the disembodied voice still resonating in her mind somewhere “…purple 18-wheeler…armed and dangerous…do not approach…”

She grunted as she realised that she was lying on her stomach her left arm painfully caught under her, her twisted pose pushing her face into the dirt. The dirt smelt of sweet almond tart.

“Breathe…take deep breaths, you can still breathe,” she repeated over and over again lest she lose consciousness again.

After what seemed like hours, she painfully rolled over onto her back and blinked at the brightness of the the sun directly overhead.

“It’s midday,” she thought, “I’ve been out for hours, they must think I’ve defected.” She scrambled, panicked, to her feet, slipping and sliding in the dirt until she could stand groggily looking around her, “at least there’s nothing broken.”

Whatever she was in was taller than her. Looking up again at the top of the stalks she realised that she was in the middle of a cornfield. She listened for sounds.  None came. She was in the middle of nowhere, unsure if she was in some kind of limbo or Jungian dreamworld.

Slowly she started remembering the details. The chase, the purple 18-wheeler, the flash disk still secure in her pocket. Realising her friends at The Hide wouldn’t be looking for her she sat in the dirt again and put her head in her hands.

She knew the rules – out of contact for more than a day and you’re presumed defected, or taken, or dead. She was all alone now. With a flash disk in her pocket that could restore sanity to an insane world.

*******

She’d been running for hours and still hadn’t reached the end of the cornfield. She’d slipped and fallen many times, the knees of her jeans non-existent, the grazes stinging and stiff making it difficult to run faster.

It was still daylight but she couldn’t see the sun anymore. It would soon become dark and cold and the wolflings would come out, howling at the 2 red moons in the sky, perpetually full. She needed to find shelter for the night.

Questions played over and over in her mind. Where were they? Why hadn’t they followed her into the field? Where was her car? Why was she still alive?

Continuing on from the 1st part - the Purple 18-Wheeler, if you're liking this story...where would you like it to go? What questions should I be asking...and answering? Let me know and let's write Part 3 together. What fun it can be!

Flash Fiction: The purple 18-wheeler

A booming honk. I jump out of my skin. Through the rearview mirror I see a purple 18-wheeler, it’s windows blacked out.

“How did they find me…?”
I pick up speed, trying to outrun it. My little car’s engine screams in protest.

The T-junction comes up suddenly. Left or right? I glimpse at the maps app on my tablet – it’s not updating. The voice in my head mocks “I told you, there’s no cell phone signal in the middle of nowhere.”

I pump the brakes, down-gear, execute a perfect handbrake turn to the right. The back of the car fishtails as I accelerate. More cornfields on both sides of the road. All that food, for nothing, what a shame.

The 18-wheeler also turns right and thunders behind me, too close for safety, its trailer swinging wildly behind it!

“You can’t hide in the middle of nowhere!”, the voice in my head continues mocking, “they always find you. Better to be at The Hide.”

I pat my pocket to assure myself that the flash disk is still there. How archaic to still put things on flash disks. The boffins at The Hide will decipher it and end this nightmare.

Or must the nightmare end so that I can reach The Hide?

Reality swims in and out of my consciousness. I smell sweet almond tart. In the rearview mirror the purple 18-wheeler disappears in sticky vapour.

As I descend into un-consciousness a disembodied voice comes from the radio, “Beware all units. 30 year old white female, armed and dangerous, driving a purple 18-wheeler has been spotted on highway 99. Do not approach. I repeat. Do. Not. Approach!”

 

Author's note: Story inspired by one of my favourite authors of all time - Phillip K. Dick!

The week that was

Blogging daily? Really?

It’s always my intention to blog daily. I’ve managed to do this many times. Sometimes, however, I over-estimate the time available to blog, and invariably this is what gets left behind.

I need my sleep!

As time marches on to the midnight hour, the energy left for blogging becomes less as the need for sleep becomes more.

What? Only 11 posts so far?

…well…12 if you count this one…and I so wanted to have a full 30 posts this month!

But this isn’t a competition…

…or a race, but you see…each day I don’t post is a day that I have deprived myself of the joy of writing and to log it as one more day of experience towards being a better writer.

Enough self-pity, you had a good week!

Yes, yes I did!

Easter with family.

A dear friend who lives in another country spent a few days with me.

Traffic was a breeze ‘cos of school holidays.

Another 3 day weekend!

And going to the Teatro at Montecasino to watch The Sound of Music!