JUSTIFIABLE

Had she done the right thing?

She had no idea. Others would judge her.

She only knew she had done what she thought best.

The water was icy cold on her feet. It reached the bottom of her dress, weighing the light linen down. The light gold sand swirled around her ankles.

The red on her dress dissolved into the water.

She stared at her hands then cleansed them, dipping them into the sea.

Behind her the sound of sirens faintly broke the morning still.

The cold water rose above her waist causing her to inhale sharply at the shock.

She only knew her children were no longer within his reach.

As the sun began to rise on the horizon she held up her thumb and covered the orange circle. Just like that she hid the brightest star in the Earth’s sky.

Would that what she had done could be so easily erased.

Buffeted by the lapping waves, tasting the salt on her lips, the water embraced her fully.


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Copyright Footy and Foodie

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 – 175 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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LOVE

‘Fifty-nine dead. Five hundred injured.’ Hannah says it more to herself than anyone else.

‘Terrorists again?’ the young girl playing on the floor asks her.

‘Just a man with a gun.’

‘It’s never going to stop, is it, Mum?’

‘It hasn’t stopped since time began. All this violence toward each other,’ she shakes her head. ‘All of it senseless.’

‘Then there is nothing we can do to make it better.’

Hannah looks at her daughter and sees the look of fear.

‘No, we never give up. We never let the violence win. Get your paint and some paper.’

Hannah helps her paint the word ‘love’ in bold blue letters. The ten year-old adds love hearts.

‘Come,’ Hannah says. They go out into the street and walk to the town centre, carrying the homemade sign.

Hannah lights the candle she brought with her and stands holding her daughter’s hand. The small crowd grows, standing together in peaceful remembrance and defiance.

She looks into the innocent brown eyes staring up at her. ‘Hate never wins.’


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Copyright Elaine Farrington Johnson

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.

STORM DAMAGE

The boxes of her water-damaged possessions took up three-quarters of the hotel room.

Until the destruction caused by Hurricane Matthew was repaired this was her home. The restoration firm said they would gain access next week. Until then, all she could do was sit and wait.

The flowers of condolence sat on the table. They stared at her, a constant reminder.

Bill was missing presumed dead, a victim of the storm.

She prayed that the cement in the cellar had dried in time and held once the water receded.


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Copyright Dale Rogerson

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.

OBSESSION

I watch the fire fading in the chiminea, poking at the dying embers with a stick.

Three in the morning and the party was winding down. Everyone else had gone inside half an hour ago.

Beth had gone inside, with Daniel’s arm draped round her shoulders. I wish it could have been me in Daniel’s place.

If only I could talk to her again. She no longer answers my e-mails, text messages or voice mails.

If only she would invite me to her parties again. then I wouldn’t have to creep around like this.

I have to get her to listen, to pay attention to me. That’s why I’ve come prepared tonight.

Car doors round the front of the house. Everyone is leaving. Except Daniel and Beth. And me.

I open the bag I have brought with me. The knife and rope are for Daniel and Beth. The hammer I take out.

If we hadn’t argued over this stupid chiminea things would have been okay. It smashes to pieces.

A light goes on in the house. I look up and see Beth and Daniel at the window.

I smile and wave. Our party has only just begun.


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© Dawn Miller

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.

WAR CRIME

Snowflakes glistened, falling through the electric light. A blanket of innocence covering sin. The same as that night in Kabul.

The funeral had been mercifully brief. Another of the unit was gone, only I remained. Still no one suspected me.

The Military Court said we were innocent. I knew differently. I still see her pleading eyes. I had avenged her where I had failed to protect her.

One bullet left, tonight I will join my unit again and pray she has forgiven me.


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© Sarah Potter

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.