I am taking part in the annual A to Z Challenge for the month of April.

My theme, after much debate, is a simple one – inspired by my children’s A to Z jigsaw, I’m planning to write a short story based on the pictured object for each letter of the alphabet. With a bit of luck all the stories will connect with each other in some way.

The jigsaw is pictured here to give a rundown of all the objects for each letter. The first story – A for Ant – will be published on Saturday 1st April, and after that each day, skipping Sundays.


For more information on the challenge, you can visit the website HERE. I hope you enjoy reading my efforts as much as I will enjoy taking part.

A2Z-BADGE-100 [2017]




They lay side-by-side on the bed.

The sun broke over the harbour. Helena sat up and drew her knees to her chest. Nick looked up at her. He knew it was over. He put his hand out to brush a hair from her face.

‘There is nothing more I can do?’ Nick asked. Helena’s hands smoothed her stomach where the scars gave a constant reminder of their loss.

‘There is nothing left to do,’ she said.

‘I will leave tomorrow,’ he said. ‘It’s time I returned home.’ Helena returned his gentle kiss and nodded.

They both knew they could survive apart.

© Fatima Fakier Deria

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 stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

This week I have cheated slightly and adapted and edited a previous piece of writing that the prompt photo reminded me of. The original, slightly longer version, A Summer In Crete, can be found HERE.


‘Why do you do it, mother?’ Jennie asked, as her mother tucked her into bed and prepared to return to her guests.

‘Do what, darling?’

‘The singing.’

‘What’s wrong with my singing?’

Jennie thought back to the after dinner entertainment. Father sat at the piano, Jennie next to him to turn his pages, and Mother standing in front of the gathered gentry from the city. Her voice screeched through the room, like nails being scratched down a blackboard. Afterwards, the guests would take it in turns to compliment her performance. Jennie thought they all must be mad or tone deaf.

‘It’s awful, mother,’ Jennie answered.

‘Of course it is, darling.’

‘But if you know you can’t sing, why do you do it?’

‘If these nouveau riche from the city want my patronage and my money, I like to make them earn it. It’s rather fun to watch them having to smile and clap politely and lie to me.’

‘What if they tell you the truth?’

‘Then they go up in my estimation completely. Goodnight dearest.’

© The Storyteller’s Abode

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. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.

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


Mum stopped on the wooden causeway. The wind swept the water over the sides, lapping at our feet.

Through the grey mist, a man stood. He wore a grey fedora and trench coat. Mum put her arms round my shoulders as he approached.

‘You shouldn’t have taken the kid. He might have let you go, but he would never let the kid go with you,’ he said.

‘You think I would let him grow up in that life?’ Mum said.

The man pointed the gun at Mum. ‘Give me the kid and I’ll let you go. I’ll tell him I took care of you.’

‘You’re not afraid one day he’ll look at him and see the similarities to you?’

The man moved forward and grasped Mum’s throat. My face was pushed against the wet, grey coat. ‘You always did have a big mouth,’ he sneered.

I heard a click next to my ear. Mum pushed the man away. The gun fell to the floor. The grey coat smeared black-red where the flick-knife was embedded.

‘He’ll hunt you down,’ the man said. ‘Whoever he sends next will kill you.’

‘Maybe,’ Mum said. ‘But not today.’

Mum turned and pulled me away. I looked back and saw the man keel over the edge of the causeway and disappear under the murky, grey waves.

© Jules Paige

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

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


Winston waved off the liner as the huge ship was towed away from the harbour.

He saw the Havillands and the Haliburtons waving back as he pocketed their money in his shirt pocket.

Didn’t he feel like a slave ferrying the rich tourists round the island in his car, taking them out fishing in his motor boat, showing them the sights of the island? At their call twenty-four seven, bowing and scraping. Yes, Boss. Sorry, Boss. Is the lady feeling the heat too much today, Boss?

Soon they would be back in their stuffy, cold houses, slaving away in their offices, stuck in their traffic jams.

Their stay in paradise was temporary, a fleeting glimpse. Winston had spent his whole life in paradise. He was perfectly happy to take their money when he needed to.

Thanks to the Havillands and the Haliburtons he had a couple of months relaxing in his hut by the beach to look forward to.


Written for ‘What Pegman Saw’, a weekly prompt based on a view from Google Maps. The idea is to write a piece of fiction of around 150 words based on the prompt. Full details can be found HERE. This week we’re off to Nassau in the Bahamas for a purely fictional tale.

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

Feature Image – Aqua Beach by Daniel Piraino via Google Maps.