TERRORIST

Blackness enveloped the city.

The power curfew began at midnight. The grid was shutdown.

Homes were silent. Streetlights dark. A flicker of rare candlelight betrayed the restaurant or club that refused to close.

An occasional set of car headlights crept passed, driven by those lucky enough to still have access to the electricity needed to power them.

Beside the river rose two bright towers, the only illumination for miles around. The weapons factory was kept open twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year.

A shuttle train deposited the night shift. A fleet of robots fully charged and ready to work. The exhausted day shift departed, taken back to their pods to be re-energised.

As the train left the security monitor didn’t notice the tiny figure who leapt across the tracks.

In the shadows, Alejandro waited. He double-checked the wiring and the fuse on the package.

His death was imminent. His hope was that it would not be in vain.

Tonight, humanity began the fight back.


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Copyright Pamela S. Canepa

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

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DEFIANCE

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.


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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.

DELAYED

They had been waiting for three hours in the airport terminal. The departure boards were full of yellow-highlighted rectangles reading ‘DELAYED.’ The fog looked thicker than ever out the window.

The children were climbing on the seats again.

‘Joe get down from there and let go of your sister,’ Claire said.

The kids ignored her. Pete gave a look of apology to the serious-looking woman sitting opposite them.

A loud groan grew around them. The yellow rectangles turned to red – ‘CANCELLED.’ An announcement came over the loudspeakers. Pete managed to pick out the phrase ‘return to your airline check-in desk to make alternative flight arrangements.’

There was nothing else they could do. Pete grabbed the carry-on luggage and Claire rounded up the kids. They joined the disgruntled crowd heading back to the check-in area.

The woman who had sat opposite them remained. What should she do now? The explosive belt strapped underneath her clothing gripped tightly to her sweating skin.

She had no instructions for this eventuality.


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© Dawn Miller

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.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

She glanced at her watch again, then out the window at the black sky. From the street below they could hear the crowd counting down.

The man tried to shout through the tape over his mouth, jerking his body on the chair he was tied to.

3…2…1… Midnight struck. The first firework soared into the sky from the castle overlooking the city. As the first bang filled the air, she shot him. The noise from the gun was lost amidst the fireworks.

She sat at the window and watched the rest of the display. One less bomb-maker in the world. Not a bad way to start the new year.


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© Vijaya Sundaram

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, thanks to Vijaya for the photo).

For more stories, visit the INLINKZ GROUP