Posts Tagged ‘desert’


Burning with the heat of the reflected sun, the dunes stretch on as far as the travelers can see. Exhaustion is creeping over them, but they know that if they give in, they’ll die alone in the blazing wasteland, their bodies buried under the shifting dunes. So with sweat upon their brows, they continue to walk, praying for some sign of life or civilization before it’s too late.

This is my entry for Three Line Tales, Week Fourteen, which is somehow missed the first thirteen weeks of. Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for running this challenge and to Fabio Rose for the prompt photo.


A trash bin wasn’t an unusual sight. Nor was a parking lot. But…

“But this is the middle of nowhere,” Greg said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Who even put this here? What is it for?”

Cordelia couldn’t answer his question. It didn’t make any sense to her either. She looked around. There was the parking lot: grey paving and clean white lines. There was the trash bin: round and shiny. And beyond them… the desert. White dunes stretched forever, rising and falling.

She and Greg had been walking for hours without the slightest sign of civilization. That had been the plan: to go as far as they could.

Now in this wilderness was a clear a sign of civilization. Animals didn’t make trash bins and parking lots.

“Look!” Greg shouted. He pointed to the far side of the parking lot, where the air was shifting and flickering like a roaring flame. A building was appearing: white columns, glass windows, tall arches.

Cordelia didn’t know if it was a mirage, a sign of madness, or something worse. She and Greg walked towards the building at the desert’s heart, not knowing what they would find ahead of them.


Word Count: 198

After missing last week’s due to being out of town for a few days and then having a terrible memory, I’m back for Week #11 of Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Thanks to rogershipp for running the challenge. Photo is from


Technicolor Ocean

Glass-winged butterfly

Flutters from white tulip to golden buttercup

Red roses beckon

Crimson beauty disguising dagger-sharp thorns

A sea of flowers surges out

Over caramel earth and verdant grass

The butterfly glides over them

A sailor alone in that floral ocean

Giving himself to the rise and fall of wine-dark tides

His white cap lost to the sightless depths

Sinking through the midnight waters

To rest on sandy ocean floor

Like a bleached skull in a barren, beige desert

Amidst dunes that rise and fall without sign of life

Grains of sand calling out for the slightest drop of water

Dreaming of green plants and flowing sapphire streams

Where tulips and roses and buttercups bloom

Waiting for a glass-winged butterfly


FFfAW- Oasis

Posted: October 20, 2015 by J.A. Prentice in Flash Fiction
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Here’s my entry for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.

Word Count: 147

This week’s photo provided by TJ Paris

He watched as the butterfly touched down on the branch, legs dancing over milky green leaves, fat with water. Salmon flowers burst into life around it, promising nectar.

The plant was a oasis, a respite in the endless sea of dirt. Sunlight pounded down mercilessly. Everything was dry and cracked, like the lips of a dehydrated prisoner.

He licked his own lips, trying to replenish the moisture they’d lost. They felt rough and lifeless, full of flaking skin.

He watched the butterfly take off again, soaring away with a flutter of translucent wings veined with black. His eyes remained fixed on it until it became only a speck in the distance, lost against the barren landscape and cloudless sky.

He broke a leaf from the plant and squeezed it for a few bitter drops. Then he walked off, holding the image of the butterfly in his mind.