They sat by the sea watching children play on the beach.

‘Alright?’ he put his arm around her shoulder.

The tears slowly running down her face gave him his answer.

It had taken her twenty years to return. Years of pain and guilt. She had been their teacher. They had trusted in her. She was supposed to protect them.

A school outing before the summer holiday began. A visit to the local museum for a bit of history and then a trip to the beach. It wasn’t her fault the terrorists had come that day.

The images still haunted her. They would never leave her. The panic, the terror, the fear in those young faces. The blood. The dead.

Governments fought aimless wars and encouraged segregation and hate. Religions tried to absolve themselves of blame. Terrorists continued to kill with no purpose, never furthering their cause.

She was beyond all this. She had only her memories and sorrow. She wouldn’t let them count her as their victim. She was here. She had not let them win.

This was her defiance.

Copyright 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.

Influenced by events in Manchester this week, my thoughts are with all involved, especially those children and parents affected by this devastating and abhorrent act.



5th July 1592

We continue to follow De Orellana. The river seems to be endless. It has been seven months since we set out.

Today we were attacked by a group of savages. Without a common language took us for enemies. They hurled sharpened rocks as we fled back to the boat.

It was not the men that attacked us but the females, the like of which I have never seen before. With long, muscular legs they bounded after us. They beat to death any man they caught with clubs and bare hands. I was gripped by one, held by arms as strong as a toro. Gonzalez used his sword to injure my captor and I struggled free. Gonzalez has read of such women existing in ancient Greece, they were called Amazons. It seems a fitting name. They were as barbaric and dense as the forest surrounding us.

In all, another fifteen men were killed. Only thirteen from the sixty that began the expedition are left. De Orellana refuses to turn back until we have claimed the full length of the river for the King.


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 Brazil on an expedition down the Amazon river. Read more about the Spanish explorers and their encounters with the native tribes HERE.

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

Feature Image © Steve Wallace