LOCKSLEY

The priest held the heavy wooden chest tightly as the carriage bumped along the path. The coachman whipped the horses, travelling at breakneck speed.

They emerged from the forest and the pace relaxed. Out from the cover of the trees, no-one would dare ambush them now. The wheels rattled as they ran over the cobbled stones onto the bridge that led into the fort.

Just as the priest began to relax there was a jolt, an anguished cry from the horses, and the coach slammed into the side of the bridge before coming to a halt. Still clinging to the chest, the priest looked up.

‘Good evening to you, Father.’ The man wearing a hood said. ‘I don’t think the congregation will be happy that their hard earned offerings are going straight into the Sheriff’s coffers, do you?’

The priest gulped. The man took the chest from him.

‘You can tell the Sheriff that it was his old friend, Locksley of the Hood.’

With that he was gone and there was only silence on the bridge.


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© Joy Pixley

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story, in around 150 words based on the weekly photo prompt. For more information visit HERE.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

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HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

Steve hated Halloween. He hated dressing up. He hated Big Al’s Pizza Emporium. All three had conspired to have him standing in the street dressed as a furry Frankenstein’s Monster holding a placard that read: ‘Big Al’s Pizza Emporium: Halloween Special – All You Can Eat For £5’

He couldn’t get to the irritating itch on his nose. Another trickle of sweat ran down his back. The saving grace was the anonymity that the large, green uncomfortable head gave him.

A mother pushed a small girl towards him.

‘Get your photo next to the monster,’ she said, the smartphone ready to take the photo.

The child resisted.

‘Come on. Don’t let the big scary monster frighten you!’

The girl looked up at Steve. ‘He doesn’t frighten me,’ she said, and punched Steve in the solar plexus.

Steve crumpled to the ground, curled up in agony. The large, green head rolled off, revealing him to the crowd of onlookers.

The next day the local paper ran with the headline: ‘Halloween Special: Local School Girl Takes Down Frankenstein’s Monster’. There was a picture on the front page of the moment Steve had been struck, another of him hobbling away. There was a link on their website to video footage.

Big Al’s Pizza Emporium had its best Halloween trading ever.


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© A Mixed Bag

Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). For more details visit HERE.

To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

HUNTED

At the end of the secure tunnel the gate had been left open.

Jess stood at the other end of the tunnel and tried to judge the distance. A hundred metres?

She edged forward. Glancing up above the walls at the steel fencing, she sensed she was being watched.

A sudden flurry outside – snarling, shrieking and motion. No point in caution now. Jess sprinted along the tunnel, straining to get there before they could get in.

Jess grabbed for the gate just as they reached it on the outside. It was wrenched away from her, but she held on. She had to protect those left inside. If she could just force the latch closed…


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© Peter Abbey

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

DO PUMPKINS SINK OR FLOAT?

Bill and Trevor stared at the unwanted trailer and the selection of large orange oblate spheroids within it.

‘Who attaches a trailer to the back of a pickup anyway? How was I to know?’ Trevor moaned.

‘This time of year, apparently, it’s the local pumpkin farmer.’ Bill paused. ‘Hide the pickup in the back. We’ll need to get rid of the trailer.’

They drove the trailer to the waste ground under the flyover. Together they added some rubble to the trailer and heaved it over the embankment into the river.

After the initial splash they waited to make sure the trailer stayed underwater. One by one pumpkins bobbed to the surface until a group of them were floating along the river.

‘Happy Halloween,’ Bill said.

Far above them the local news helicopter, attracted by the pumpkin display on the water, zoomed its camera in on Bill and Trevor. That night they ran the story of the floating pumpkin display as their ‘And finally…’ piece.

The local pumpkin farmer saw it and made a call to the local police.


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© Yinglan

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story, in around 150 words based on the weekly photo prompt. For more information visit HERE.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

REBUILDING

The new Buckingham Palace looked exactly like the old one had from the air. The last remnants of the construction site had almost gone, only a large fence remained, to be removed before the official opening next week.

The pilot brought the Boeing 787 Dreamliner round in another long circle over the city as he waited for clearance to land. The Mall was still closed off, Green Park and St. James’s Park remained eerily empty. This was his first flight here since the day the old palace had been destroyed.

He thought back to the large crowds that had spread out as far as he could see below him that day. They cheered and celebrated as King William had been crowned.

He remembered the flash and fireball emanating from the palace, spreading like a wave, engulfing the thousands of individual specks, before the roar of the explosion reached him through the sky. He remembered having to correct the plane as it was hit by the turbulence, minor at that distance. His was the last plane to land before the airspace was shut down. He was in the sky long enough to glimpse through the smoke and flames and see the black hole were the palace had once stood.

Next week the monarch would be able to take up residence in the centre of London again. He banked once more and began his descent into the airport.


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© A Mixed Bag

Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). For more details visit HERE.

To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.