Posts Tagged ‘microfiction’

phone-booth-jhc

Dirty tile and cold walls surrounded her as she dialed the number, black phone pressed to her ear. She ignored the dirt and ash, just like she ignored the foul stench that hovered in every room like a vulture.

The phone clicked and her heart leapt.

“Who is this?”

“John,” she whispered. “Iā€“”

“I told you not to call.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late for that.”

The line went dead. She stood there, cradling the phone, unable to step away.

Outside the tiny prison window, the world spread out, so close but so far beyond her reach.


Word Count: 97

This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and J Hardy Carroll for the photo prompt!

tltweek77

In the lands by the ocean’s edge, they tell that once the jellyfish was a maiden, beautiful as the light dancing on the waters, who had a lover, sworn to fight in the queen’s service.

One day, her lover didn’t return from the war, felled by the barbed arrows of the enemy, and the maiden was so moved to despair that she cast herself from a high cliff into the churning waves.

The fates took mercy upon her and her form was changing, becoming bright and beautiful, drifting in the waters, untroubled by darkness.


This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Pan Da Chuan for providing the prompt photo!

vw-in-israel-wmq

Emergency services buzzed around the car like flies around carrion. Police officers with notebooks out shouted at road safety workers, arguing about the importance of preserving the scene versus reopening the motorway.

In the end, the police conceded and the car was hauled away. There was no evidence to be gathered, nothing but the testimony of the other drivers and the distant, poorly angled CCTV video.

They handed the footage off to experts. They even showed it to a magician. The conclusion was unanimous.

In the middle of the motorway, the driver of the car had vanished from his seat.


Word Count: 100

This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Kent Bonham for providing the prompt photo!

tltweek76

Barefoot, she dances, toes skirting through rainwater.

The trees seem greener, the sky bluer, and the birdsong brighter.

Even in the artificial tennis court, fences and nets like prisons bars, the spirit of the forest reigns.


This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Sam Burriss for providing the prompt photo!

janet-webb-french-still-life

Deep in the dark, dwarfs fashioned gifts for a mighty king: a candle that burnt with a light only the holder could see and a jar that held the wind.

The gifts were put in the king’s daughter’s room to gather dust.

His daughter grew. So did his enemies.

There came a day when the gates were torn asunder and the halls were red with blood and fire. Fearful, the daughter leapt to the window and opened the jar.

The wind lifted her to safety.

She ran through the night, guided by a light no other eyes could see.


Word Count: 99

This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Janet Webb for providing the prompt photo!

claire-sheldon

Afterwards, all they talked about was how ordinary she had been.

She’d come to work at eight on the dot. She baked cakes for birthdays. She smiled and knew everybody’s name. Her desk was covered in little plush penguins ā€“ there was a new one every week.

The only odd thing was those very long vacations she took.

So when the news came in that she’d died in action, defusing a nuclear bomb while under attack by domestic terrorists on a stolen bomber over New York City, everyone was a little surprised.

They’d miss her cakes, her smiles, and her penguins.


Word Count: 100

This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Claire Sheldon for providing the prompt photo!

tltweek74

In the dark and silent day, the call goes out.

“Stack the chairs and bar the doors!”

Then they wait in trembling stillness for the footsteps to stop in the halls.


This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Daniel Von Appen for providing the prompt photo!