THE GIRL ON THE OLD TRAM

Modern, sleek cars had been rolled out along the route.  At the time Jonathan travelled every morning an ancient tram still clanked and rattled along.

Accompanying him each day were the unchanging faces that shared this journey. The familiar smile and muttered greeting part of their set routine.

She appeared one grey morning. A ray of light piercing the everyday gloom. She sat opposite him. For the first few days he couldn’t making eye contact.

After a fortnight they established a nodded ‘hello’ when she took her seat.

Now Jonathan began to dream. Should he speak to her? What should he say? Was there a future for them? He resolved to talk to her the following Monday.

When she got on the tram that morning she was talking to Richard. Richard was another regular on the old tram. Richard boarded at the same stop as her.

She nodded to Jonathan as usual, then spent the rest of the journey chatting to Richard.

The next day Jonathan got an earlier tram. It was modern and sleek.


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Copyright 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. 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.

JUDE

The last note faded on the strings. The gathered handful of listeners gave polite applause. One guy flipped a coin into my bag.

People bustled past on their commutes. As I was about to begin my next song I saw her. She was exiting the train station in a hurry as usual.

For the last three months I had seen her every weekday morning. She never stopped to listen, just kept on walking without pausing. I had tried different songs: fast and slow; loud and soft; romantic and angry. Nothing seemed to interest her.

Last Friday, as she sped past, a piece of paper had fallen from her pocket. I stopped mid-song to pick it up.

Now it was time to put my weekend’s work into action. I struck the opening chord on my guitar and sang as loudly as I could.

‘Hey Jude…’

I saw her stop and turn. Our eyes met. She smiled, turned and walked on.

Tomorrow she will be back. Maybe she will smile at me again.


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© Sunayana MoiPensieve

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.

FIRST DATE

Walking down the brightly-lit street, Darryl took Victoria’s arm in his.

The evening couldn’t have gone any better. Dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant where the conversation and wine had flowed. His month’s wage had just covered the bill.

Now he was beside this elegant woman. Her skin flawless, hair dark and straight, eyes deep and mysterious.

How he would manage beyond this first meeting he hadn’t figured out. She would realise his dating site profile wasn’t entirely truthful eventually. Right now he was enjoying the moment. He would walk back to her flat. If she invited him in for a nightcap, all the better.

They stopped at traffic lights and waited to cross the road. A group of youths on scooters stopped at the lights.

It couldn’t be, Darryl thought, not tonight.

One of the riders, wearing ripped jeans and an old leather jacket, looked over.

‘Alright Darryl, what you doing walking around the posh part of town?’ he shouted. ‘And where’d you get the fancy clothes?’

Darryl’s heart sank. Victoria stared at him.


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© Sunayana / MoiPensieve

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.

VALENTINE’S DAY IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN

Under the huge glass dome, Benny sat nervously on a bench.

‘A new addition to our Mediterranean Biome is this perfume garden inspired by Moorish gardens of old,’ said a guide as a group of tourists shuffled passed. ‘Roses, lilies and jasmine are just some of the wonderful scents you can find in here.’

Benny watched them go and looked at the pink-red rose he held. He hoped it was a good one. Dating a Biome Supervisor at the Eden Project made giving flowers as a gift a whole lot more complicated.

Kathryn came out the staff door. Radiant in a burgundy dress, her red hair shining, caught by the sun glinting through the glass roof. Benny stood to greet her and held out the rose.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day.’

‘A Wildeve,’ Kathryn smiled, taking the rose.

‘Eve in the Garden of Eden,’ Benny said.

‘I get it, Benny.’ She pulled a small box from her bag and gave it to him. ‘Happy Valentine’s Day.’

Benny opened the box. Inside was a red apple. Benny looked at Kathryn.

‘A Discovery apple. First raised in Essex in 1949. Crisp and juicy.’

Benny looked into Kathryn’s deep brown eyes.

‘Tempted?’ she asked.


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© Sascha Darlington

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.

Visit the Eden Project website HERE.

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

LETTER OF DESTRUCTION

It was a beautiful morning. The sunshine streamed in through the window. The flowers were in full bloom and gladdened her heart. Dolores put on her favourite lace dress and took care over her make-up and hair.

Today, Thomas was expected back and she was sure he would come with a proposal.

 Then Matilda had brought the letter.

‘Dear Dolores,’ he had written. Not his usual loving opening, Dolores thought. ‘I hope this finds you well.’

Dolores felt a knot in her stomach. She scanned the rest of the page. Words jumped out at her: ‘ill-advised;’ ‘drunken;’ ‘one night;’ ‘pregnant;’ ‘duty.’

She slumped in a chair. Another victim of the war.

Everything that had seemed beautiful moments before seemed ugly to her now. She rose from her chair and picked up a fine China teapot. She let it fall onto the wooden floor. It smashed. The destruction felt good. A teacup followed. Saucers. A coffee pot. Finally, the vase of flowers.

It may not bring Thomas back to her, but Dolores felt much better.


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© 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. For more information visit HERE.

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