Category Archives: Flash Fiction

Write a Story with Me – Oh Yeah! – Part Seven

Wow!  Vanessa Chapman totally rocked it this week.  Not only did she send us the next installment, she mapped out all the characters for us in a graph!  Go Vanessa!

Hop on over the Vanessa’s to see what’s going on with our story.

If you’d like to sign up, come on over.  There’s always room for more!

Part One – Jennifer M. Eaton

Part Two – J. Keller Ford

Part Three – Susan Roebuck

Part Four – Elin Gregory

Part Five – Eileen Snyder

Part Six – Mikaela Wire

Part Seven — Vanessa Chapman

Don’t forget to stop by next week to see what happens next.

Ravena Guron —- TAG!  You are “It”

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Flash Fiction Friday on Wednesday: Trials of the Tooth Fairy- The Fairy Trap-A true story

What does the tooth fairy do when a little boy sets a trap for her?  Read on!

The tooth fairy peeked around the doorway, tip toeing into the little boy’s room, being careful not to make a sound, but when she made it to the bed, not only was there no tooth… there was no little boy!

Hmmm. She scratched her head and checked her notes.  Yes, there was definitely a tooth lost in this house today.  She tip-toed into the next room, and found the youngest little boy sleeping soundly.  Nope, he was too young to lose a tooth.

Across the hallway, the sounds of snoring rattled behind a closed door.  The tooth fairy carefully grasped the door handle and gently turned it, cringing as the door made a big “pop” sound.  She held her breath, and closed her eyes, not that closing her eyes would keep a little boy from seeing her, but it settled her nerves.

The snoring continued.  She tip toed in the room, smiling over the bed of the oldest child.  No, he hadn’t lost a tooth either.  A small rustle from the other side of room caught the tooth fairy’s attention.  She crept around the bed and put her hands on her hips.

Aha!  A little boy with a missing tooth!

The middle boy lay wedged in the two-foot space between the bed and the dresser.  He slept soundly on a thick fluffy pillow, covered with a full Spiderman comforter. She could feel the tug of the prize tooth nestled below his sweet little head, but how would she get to the pillow?

The tooth fairy scratched her head, wishing she hadn’t left her wings at home.  Is she had them, she could fly over the little boy to his pillow, and steal his tooth.  But alas, wingless, she needed to find a way to thwart this little boy’s plan to catch her in the act, and still run away with that prized tooth.

She took in a deep breath, and balanced one hand on the bed, and the other on the dresser.  Concentrating hard, she slipped her foot along the side of the frame, just beside the little boy.

OOPS!  She jumped as she stepped on something hard.  The little boy’s arm was under the comforter!  Frozen, one hand supporting her on either side, and one foot hovering in the air, the tooth fairy watched as the little boy groaned, and rolled over.

Oh No!  When he turned over, he bend his left his knee and pointed it in the air… just a few inches beneath her leg!

Balancing on one foot, she remained silent, waiting for his breathing to relax.  Certain he’d fallen back into a blissful slumber; she allowed her foot to touch the ground in the few blessed inches of open carpet beside his shoulder.  Using her fairy agility, she jumped over him, and crouched in the few inches of clear space by his pillow… a full grown fairy… in a six by twelve box.  Well, she’d had worse challenges.

Her heart pumped madly, dreaming of the prized tooth she would find beneath his pillow.   She slipped her hand under, only to find a long wire.  A wire?  The cable stretched from under the pillow to a nearby chair filled with toys.  Yup.  A booby trap… set up in the only possible place she would be able to slip her hand in.

Not to be thwarted, the tooth fairy contorted her body, twisting and mashing her large form in the little space provided, and slipped her other hand (upside down) beneath the pillow.  Tapping and feeling, being careful of the wire … she struck gold.  But was it gold?  No!  It was not the prized tooth… but a Nintento DS carefully hidden underneath his pillow.

Hmmmm, the tooth fairy thought.  She would have to leave a note for his mother letting her know he’d been playing games when she thought he was sleeping.

Having come too far to give up without her prize, the tooth fairy dug her fingers around the rest of the carpeting.  A marble, a toy soldier… Where was the stinking tooth!

Her hand touched plastic, and the wonderful sound of a Ziploc bag crinkling excited her ears.  She slipped the bag out from beneath the pillowcase.  The prize tooth!  Slipping her free hand under the pillow, the tooth fairy deposited the required fistful of jingly coins and stood.  Prize in hand.

But she could not yet celebrate her victory!  Her eyes adjusted to the light, the moon revealing the true intricacy of the booby trap.  How she hadn’t tripped it was a blessing in itself.  The older boy turned in his bed, covering the one point on his mattress that she’d used to support herself.

Dangit for forgetting my stinking wings!

She gritted her teeth, and placed one toe on the pillow, shifting the fabric beside the child’s head.  With a huge leap, she used her magical fairy powers to sail over the comforter and the booby traps, and landed solidly on the carpet at the edge of the bed.

THOMP. The flooring shook beneath her mass.

She froze.

A cricket chirped outside.

Both children reacted to the noise by turning in their sleep.

The tooth fairy waited, ever so patiently until they’d stopped moving. Whew! They remained asleep. Two steps took her from the room, and a now trembling hand eased the door shut.

Success.

The tooth fairy rubbed her temple, and smiled at her prize tooth.

I don’t get paid enough for this.

 

Writing time:  24 minutes.  Fresh in my mind since it was last night.  J

Yeah, I know there’s show verses tell and all.  It’s speed storytelling, remember? Give a girl a break.

Yay! It’s my favorite Day of the Week! It’s Write a Story with Me day! Part Five

Write a Story with Me! Is going full-throttle.

Are we having fun yet!  The answer is “Yes!”

So… What’s happened so far?

Part 1: Twelve year old Marci picked a leaf off a hallowed tree.

Part 2: She runs home and sees her pregnant mother and little sister Lauren greeting her father’s flying ship, one of the Planetary Raiders from a long voyage.  Marci gives the leaf to Janelle, a tiny person who emerges from a hole in the floor.

Part 3: Bethany (and older sister) is introduced. She is the villain of our story, and very jealous of her sister Marci.  She sneaks back home from greeting her father, and eavesdrops on Marci.  She discovers the illegal fairy, and prepares to use the information against her sister.

Part 4: Bethany is carted off by fairies.  A big scary beetle-fairy tells Janelle she has to come back to the nest with him. (He’s Janelle’s brother.  Janelle wants to start a new fairy nest, but her brother (Janosc) does not want her to do it, because a fairy queen is like an ant queen. Janelle says they need to start a new nest because their world is in danger.

Part 5: The next installment comes from the wonderful Miss Eileen Snyder.  No need to click a link this week.  We are posting right here!  Take it away Eileen!

Jodi looked up from the book she read and began to rub her eyes hard to a watery end. The street bench had grown rigid and hard and she shifted her weight and stretched her entire body with an audible yawn.  She plucked her eyeglasses from the crown of her head and with a minor adjustment they fit her face again.  She didn’t need them for reading; in fact she didn’t need them at all.
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 Unexpectantly, a wistful March wind tunneled the entire length of Carlisle Street. Jodi turned toward the breeze to feel it touch her skin, it was refreshing. She caught sight of the unbridled ivy leaves fluttering against the brick of antique row homes that lined the narrow easement, not much wider than an alleyway and paved in blue cobblestones, the window boxes were decorated with cold weather pansies, bright yellow and purple. Their beauty was evident but their genus was no match for the encroaching ivy that clung steadfast to the masonry bricks of Colonial Philadelphia.
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She thought of her favorite book on Greek mythology, when the Sirens of Circe flapped their leaf like wings to intimidate Odysseus and his shipmates. What lie in a hardy leaf, what purpose a leaf if it bears no flower? Does it not nourish the bud? Yet, its shiny veneer was a fitting contrast to the flat, red brick. Perhaps, a leaf does have powers!

Now It’s time to scoot on over to the Nederland’s with Mysocalleddutchlife’s Mikaela Wire for the next installment. Mikaela gets to figure out who the heck this girl is, and what Colonial Philadelphia has to do with flying ships, and fairies.  Well, I guess it all has to tie in to that leaf from installment #1. Ummm… Okay, Mikaela… better you then me.

Tag Mikaela!  You are “It”.

Here are the previous installments:

Part One – Jennifer M Eaton

Part Two – Jenny Keller Ford

Part Three – Susan Roebuck

Part Four by — Elin Gregory

Stop by next Tuesday to see what happens next!

Flash Fiction Friday on Wednesday – Be careful what you wish for

This is the character study I did for my character “Jessica” in my new WIP, Fire in the Woods.  I wrote this just to get a “feel” for her before I got started with the story.

The story ended up going in another direction, but this was the basis/starting point of her character. (As well as the rest of the story)

Jess lay in the grass.  The stars of a billion galaxies sparkled in the night sky above.  When she was little, and her parents fought, she’d hide in the backyard, and the constellations would keep her company.  Since her parent’s divorce five years ago, not even the stars could console her.  Instead, they made her feel insignificant, small, and alone.

A shooting star’s tail lit up the night and disappeared from view.  She closed her eyes, and wished with all her might.  She wished for someone who could understand her, for someone to love her.

She wished for someone to appear, and change her life forever.

…Be careful what you wish for.

Flash Fiction Friday on Wednesday – The Long Walk

First of all… If you haven’t signed up for Write a Story with me, hop on over and sign up.  Our authors are already plugging away.  What fun!  Sign up here.

Okay… now on to the important business of the day… Flash Fiction… Setting the timer for five minutes.  I have a bad headache, and I’m wondering what I can write with this kind of distraction.  Go…

I ease into the long hallway.  Whiteness blinds me.  Where does it go?  Should I really be here?

I turn back, but the door has closed.  No other path lies before me than the one straight ahead.  Lights swirl, voices of the past berate me.  Was I sad?  No.  But was I ever happy?  Did I do enough?

Three steps further.  The light is blinding.  How far must I go?  How far can I go?

The hallway ends.  The sounds stop.  All but a handle disappears.  I’m compelled to take it, to turn the handle and face what lies behind the door, but terror fills my soul.

I don’t know what lies on the other side.  I gasp for breath, but there is none.  The air disappears.  There is no longer a choice.  I must move on.  I grasp the handle, and turn.

A breeze hits my face.  Terror subsides.

I walk through.

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(Time:  Four minutes … sans correcting typographical errors.)

Note:  No, I am not contemplating taking that “long walk”, but I did write this with a mild migraine, and the lights are hurting my brain.  That may be where that idea came from.

Flash Fiction Friday on Wednesday – Flight

Setting the timer for five minutes.  Topic:  Flight.  Go.

Flight.  Simple.  Clean.  Emotional. 

I spread my wings and open myself to the wind.  The sky pulls me up, gathering me within, taking me to heights most only dream of.  I flap my delicate yellow wings, directing myself, soaring above the houses and gardens.  The gardens—the wonderful flowers.

The breeze abates, and I glide downward … settling, nuzzling into the heart of a red-pedaled saucer.  Its nectar—sweet and simple—nourishes me, makes me thankful for all that is good in my life.

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Flight.  Simple.  Clean.  I spy a yellow butterfly sitting on a red flower.  I swoop down, and snatch it from its perch.  It crunches in my beak.

Sweet, simple.  It nourishes me, makes me thankful for all that is good in my life.

Into the sky I soar.

Time:  Four minutes, sans cleaning up typographical errors.

I think that one will fall into the “poetry” category. Dunno.

Flash Fiction Friday on Wednesday – Fireworks

Let’s do ten minutes today, since I am totally unprepared.  It’s the fourth of July, so let’s think about fireworks.  Go!

John’s grip tightened on my wrist as he pulled me up the slope.  A tree branch snagged my sweater.

“Slow down,” I shouted.

“Come on,” John laughed.  “We’re almost there.”

The dried leaves on the forest floor cracked beneath my sneakers.  A cricket chirped in the distance.

“If you could just tell me where we’re going?”

“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

The moonlight cast flickering shadows as the treetops swayed in the breeze.  He slowed, and took my hands in his.  John’s eyes consumed me.  His smile drained any sense of anger over my pulled sweater.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“For what?”

He gently led me from the trees, to the edge of a precipice.  The drop seemed miles below.  Twinkling lights and movement and a distant sound of laughter rose from the world beneath us.

“Where are…”

English: Fireworks

Fireworks (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A dull thud sounded from below, and a gasp rang out from the distant crowd.  A red starburst filled the sky, followed by a yellow.  The rattle of the fireworks barraged my ears, but I was too awestruck to notice.  They blazed and dazzled before me, as I stared not up— but out.

“John, this is amaz…” I gasped.  My fingers covering my lips.

John knelt beside me on one knee, a small box in his hand.  His smile sparkled amongst the flashes lighting up his face.  “Claire, I have a question for you.”

Flash Fiction Friday on Wednesday – Beneath

Five minutes on the timer.  Still thinking about those stingrays.  Go!

I glide gracefully through the cold, sliding along the rock-bed, searching for food.  Yellow and blue fish circle near, wary but unafraid as my mass dwarfs them and shades their world from the golden orb shimmering above. 

A buzzing roar grinds the waters overhead.  The fish scurry—but curious—I ascend … gliding toward the strange white lines marring the surface of the water.

Pain stings and a crack stuns me.  Webbing wraps and confines, cutting into my fins and dragging me from the water.  My tail, severed, sinks into the depths.

The water retreats, dripping down my belly.  The yellow orb, no longer shimmering, dries and burns my flesh as I rise further from the life-giving ocean.

Okay, I cheated.  Six minutes.  I didn’t want to stop it at “webbing wraps and confines.”

I really hope the fishermen drop him back into the water.

Guest Post: Flash Fiction by Wendy Reid – Continuation of the Winning “Sunshine” post

 Photo Credit: psxextreme.com

Huddled behind a jetting outcrop, she pressed her knees to her chest so hard that her muscles ached. With shoulders hunched against the frigid cold of the moonlit desert, she put her hands up to her ears in the hopes to stop the cold wind from entering her head. The sand under her bottom was bitter cold and hard as ice, a far cry from its daylight properties.

Facing eastward, she watched as the orange ball slowly appeared over the horizon. Nikki had never been happier to see the sun shine and feel the heat of its rays.

She crawled out from her shelter and rested her back against the cold hard rock as she waited for the miraculous orange ball to come to her rescue.  Watching the light race over the desert towards her, her heart thumped in anticipation of the long awaited relief.  She had been waiting for what seemed like one hundred earth years, to return to her place of birth.

The hot rays began to envelope her body, starting at her toes and working their way up, and she screamed out in agony as her flesh sizzled and darkened, before turning to ash that the desert wind whipped away in tornado like fashion.

She would be warm again for another thousand years…or until the next time she was expected to pay for the sins of her father once again.

Wendy Reid

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Wendy is an award winning author who resides in Quebec, Canada with her husband of 25 years and her 3 grown children.  “A Mother’s Love” is a thriller that is NOT for the faint of heart and “Bedtime Stories” is a collection of 10 erotic short stories, including 3 from the award winning series “The Devil & Mrs. Jones”.  (Literotica’s best Erotic Horror for 2003)

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http://wendysworksdotcom.wordpress.com/

Mommy to the Rescue AKA “Please Don’t Eat my Frog!” (A True Story)

Yes, this is a true story.

So, we are hanging out by the pool, and my son says, “Mom, there is a snake in the pond.”

“Yeah, okay, are you coming swimming?”

“Yeah, but there’s a snake in the pond.”  He stays near the pond looking down.  “Hey Mom.  The snake’s playing with Lucky.” (Luck is a frog)  There is a short pause, before my son starts screaming.  “Mom!  Mom!  The snake is eating Lucky!”

I run to the pond to see nothing.

“Mom!  I swear!  He grabbed Lucky and dragged him under!”

I waited, and yes, in another minute the snake came up for air, Lucky firmly in his jaws.  Now, all three of my kids are leaning over the pond.  And who needs to figure it out?  MOMMY.

Under Lucky goes again.  “Go get Daddy,”  I say, hoping they’ll all go running.  Only lost one of them, though.  I climb over the fence, and wait.  Splish, the snake come up for air, and “Mommy The Great” swoops down and grabs this sucker by the back of the neck.

I stand up, and pull about four feet of snake out of the water, with the frog firmly locked in its jaws.  Now what the heck do I do?

I shook the snake a little, figuring it would be more afraid of me than hungry for our little frog.  No dice.  It gripped down further, cutting into poor Lucky’s skin.  I watched with horror as the snake arched, and more of Lucky disappeared inside.

My husband arrives and makes a sound akin to a gerbil screaming.  “What do you want me to do?” he asks.

Well, I knew he wasn’t about to take the snake from my hand, and all of my kids are looking at me, while I’m holding this four-foot snake in the process of ingesting a favorite pet.

“Get a knife, and a bag,” I said.

My husband made a face, and left.  I didn’t tell him I was going to hold the snake, and he was going to kill it.  He might have run for the hills.

So, I’m standing there, holding this dern snake, thinking:  It’s not really his fault.  This is just nature, really.  Lucky was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

My youngest son is sobbing.

So … I did what any other good nature-loving mother would do.  I took a deep breath, and

I pried the stinking snake’s jaws open.

(Do you have any idea how long the fangs of a four-foot snake are?)

Lucky fell four feet to the decking with a splat of blood.  Great.  I just almost got bitten, and the frog is already dead.

My husband comes out with a giant Ziploc and a butcher’s knife.  Relief crossed his face when he saw what I’d done.  We slipped the “not too happy” snake in the bag, zipped it up leaving a little air hole, and the boys and daddy drove him a mile or two away to a bigger pond and let him go.

Like I said… It’s not the snake’s fault.  He was just hungry.  But I’d just rather he not eat one of my pets right in front of my kids, thank you.

I go back to the pond to pick up and bury Lucky, and he’s gone.  There’s a trail of blood leading to the pond.

The next day, I went out and saw a little frog on a lily pad, with two HUGE scars on his back.  I walked out slowly, and opened the fence.  By now, all the other frogs have jumped and swam away.  Not Lucky.

I crouched down, and put out my hand.

Do you know… that little frog swam right into it?

I picked him up, and bought him up to my face and he looked at me.  Didn’t jump, didn’t scurry, he just looked into my eyes.

My kids all came running out.  They wanted to hold him, too… but I said no.  Let’s leave him be.  He’s still hurt.

Frogs come and go when you have a pond.  Lucky stayed all season.  Every few days I would walk out, and put my hand in the water, and up he would swim, and I would hold him for a while.

You’re welcome, Lucky.  We love you too.