JUST DESERTS

Frank was drunk. Julia’s leaving party started at 6 in the office with a glass of champagne for everyone. Frank drank half a bottle.

While some had headed off home to start their family weekends, others had headed over to the bar across the street. Frank hadn’t been specifically invited, but he tagged along at the back and no one seemed to mind. After tonight he would never see her again. For two years he had watched her coming and going. She worked on the floor above him. He had never plucked up the courage to talk to her.

Julia stood with her group of friends – all female. Frank stood across the bar with Colin and Ed. He tried to think of an excuse to move over to join Julia’s group. No matter how he racked his brain, he couldn’t think of an excuse. Instead, he was stuck listening to Colin and Ed arguing about the Mets and Yankees again. Continue reading “JUST DESERTS”

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ORPHAN

The metal chair was cold against his thighs, he heard only muffled voices from behind the door.

He looked at the shaft of sunlight that played across the wall and floor of the white corridor. Small particles of dust danced in the still air.

His mother’s face appeared before him, her kind smile and comforting eyes wrapped him in safety.

They were back at their favourite spot, sitting under the tree in the park. Her ghostly hands formed shapes in the air and created shadow monsters. He heard her voice as the shadow beasts spoke. He shrieked and laughed as the monsters crept towards him, then enveloped him. In his mother’s embrace, he remembered the scent of her skin and the smooth, warm feeling nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

The door opened, blocking the sunlight from the window. The wisps of shadow vanished. His mother disappeared.

‘Okay, Peter. This is Frank and Mary. They’re going to look after you from now on.’


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Copyright Artycaptures

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.

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.

CLASS SOCIETY

‘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.’


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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. 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.