Tag Archives: 100 words

Inner Light

candles

© Sarah Ann Hall

It was a great disappointment to Aaron’s Bubbe when Mom and Dad stopped being observant. The boy only got to see Zaide and Bubbe when he visited them in Brooklyn on summer vacation.

Every day, Zaide had many visitors, people of his community who had questions, family problems, money problems. Zaide was always cheerful, no matter when they dropped by, giving words of advice and comfort, even money, though they were both poor.

They were gone now and left him their small flat and belongings including these Kabbalistic candlesticks. “Light them Aaron,” Bubbe’s voice sang. “Be filled with Zaide’s ohr.”

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Flash Fiction Challenge. The idea is to use the image above as the inspiration for crafting a wee story no more than 100 words long. My word count is 99.

In a way, I took my prompt more from the portrait we see in the upper center frame than what look to me to be candlestick holders. It reminds me of those depicting the great Rabbinic sages, so I imagined Aaron’s Zaide (Grandfather) to be among them. Zaide would be busy so his Bubbe (Grandmother) would be the one he more related to.

I am very, very loosely combining the concepts of a Rebbe who is usually a revered teacher within a Hasidic community, and Kabbalah or Jewish mysticism (although that brief description hardly does it justice), specifically the idea of Ohr or spiritual light.

Aaron’s parents no longer follow the traditions, but it looks as if Zaide and Bubbe hope that one day  Aaron may return to the mitzvot (commandments).

To read other stories based on the prompt, visit InLinkz.com.

It’s Safe Now

sunrise

© Roger Bultot

“It’s over Grandpa. Sun’s coming up. We’ll be okay.”

Timmy’s Grandfather lay asleep on the duck blind’s floor. Yesterday, they’d been hunting and got lost. Couldn’t find the truck. Sun was going down when they saw the first in a forgotten graveyard.

These zombies were real. Fought them off while their ammo lasted. Grandpa got scratched, but they hid back in the blind. It’s over now.

“Grandpa?” Timmy shook the old man. “Wake up.”

Bloodshot eyes oozing yellow mucus snapped open. It grabbed Timmy’s arms fast.

“Grandpa, no!”

Just because the sun comes up doesn’t mean the monsters go away.

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields writing challenge of 27 October 2017. The idea is to use the image above to inspire crafting a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. My word count is 100.

Decades ago, I saw the 1968 black and white film Night of the Living Dead on TV. I don’t like horror films beyond the old 1930s-1950s Universal horror films (Frankenstein, Werewolf, and such), but this was supposed to be a classic.

As expected, I was scared out of my wits and the movie has a tragic, ironic ending. Today, television is full of zombie-type shows, and I refuse to watch any of them. But it is “Halloween week” and horror stories are expected, so I thought I’d create one (though it’s not my first).

Poor Timmy.

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

Adventure’s Bitter Memories

old tree

© Sandra Crook

Nine-year-old Taylor jumped grabbing the tree’s largest branch and pulled himself up. He danced among the leaves this way and that like cinematic swashbuckler’s of old, wielding his sword.

“Taylor, Grandpa said it’s time for dinner.”

Darn. His twin sister Paris. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“He said now.”

The boy stopped and looked down at her. He used to ignore Paris but they’d been through too much together. He remembered when the demons were real and she almost died.

“Okay. Coming.” With acrobatics honed on the battlefield of Dragonworld he deftly landed near his twin. “I’m here now.”

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields flash fiction writing challenge. The idea is to use the image above as the inspiration for crafting a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. My word count is 100.

As you might have guessed, I’m again leveraging ideas I’ve presented in The Whisperer, Mr. Covingham’s Secret and other similar stories about a group of five siblings who are somehow spirited away to another realm, one of dragons and demons, of friendship and warfare.

In today’s tale, I showcase two of Zooey’s siblings, twins Taylor and Paris. I’m writing a novel with these children at the center. I’ve got four chapters in rough draft now and am continuing to write. Hopefully, these wee tales will whet your appetite.

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

For a different point of view on the old tree, and a look at one of Taylor’s other siblings, read The Remembering Tree, an expanded tale based on today’s prompt.

The Whisperer

bird

© Douglas M. MacIlroy

“Cats, bats, and now this. Why can’t I leave my garage door open for two seconds without…”

“It only happens when I’m here, Grandpa.”

“The old man looked to see his five-year-old granddaughter walk out from the house.

“Hi, Danielle.”

“I told you Grandpa, my name is Zooey.”

“Sorry. Why do the critters invade my garage when you’re here?”

The little girl gently took the bird from his hand. It sat peacefully as she stroked its feathers.

Zooey walked outside and the bird suddenly took flight. “You just have to know how to talk to them.”

The old man chuckled.

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields writing challenge. The idea is to use the image above as the inspiration for crafting a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. After much editing, my word count is exactly 100.

Again, I’m leveraging characters from a storyline loosely involving five children who are mysteriously summoned into a world of dragons and other forces for unknown purposes. The youngest child is Danielle or “Zooey”. Two previous flash fiction entries involving an older child in the same universe are The Way Home and Where Did Our Home Go?. I can’t tell you where in the sequence of the events today’s tale takes place since, if I actually write this series of novels, I don’t want to give out “spoilers.”

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

Addendum: I decided to expand this tale to reveal a few more details, more of a hint of what’s to come than anything else. Go to The Whisperer Expanded for the rest, plus a look into Zooey’s past in Mr. Covingham’s Secret.

The First Tourist on the Moon

moon over lake

© Ted Strutz

He looked up in the autumn sky at the full moon and took a deep breath. He loved it here on the lake, on his yacht, but the next adventure wasn’t here on Earth, but up there. They laughed at his grandiose plans, but they weren’t visionaries. He had shown them all, and now he was going to back up his convictions with actions.

The first shuttle carrying passengers to Moon Base Alpha would launch next month. He was going to be the first tourist on the Moon as was his right as Elon Musk.

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields writing challenge. The idea is to use the image above to inspire the creation of a bit of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. My word count is 95.

100 words isn’t much, but combining fancy yacht, lake, and the moon, I was reminded that not only did Elon Musk recently unveil plans for a very large passenger/cargo rocket and Mars Colony, he had images of what he called Moon Base Alpha, a name he took from the 1970s scifi television series Space: 1999 starring Martin Landau and Barbara Bain.

After the past several days, I needed to write something a bit “lighter.”

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to Inlinkz.com.

I’ve expanded and personalized my response to the prompt here.

moon base musk

Artist’s conception of Elon Musk’s “Moon Base Alpha”.

space 1999 base

Moon Base Alpha from the television show “Space: 1999.”

Where Did Our Home Go?

factory

© J Hardy Carroll

How’d we get here? One minute we were fighting an Imp horde and the next we landed here. The demons were experimenting with a portal stone. That’s it.

We’re on Earth but it’s not home. I’ve gotten a day job so I can buy food. I push myself through the gap in the gates with the groceries.

Newspapers say the year’s 1988. Raul’s family died in a famine in the 11th century. Yana was abandoned during an earthquake the next century. Prisha’s family were killed in Calcutta’s 1737 cyclone.

I’ve got to get them back to the only home they’ve ever known…dragonworld.

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields writing challenge. The idea is to use the image of the old warehouse above as the inspiration to craft a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. My word count is exactly 100.

I don’t think I’ve done my concept justice. It’s part of a larger idea I’ve been toying with, one I briefly touched on a few days ago.

Imagine the abandoned and unwanted children of the world throughout history being whisked to a different place and time, one where they are taken care of by dragons. Then imagine in a war an accident sends them back to Earth, but way too far in the future. What would happen then?

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

The New Home

shoes spider webs

© Sarah Potter

After he died, I put Dad’s old shoes in my closet and then forgot about them.

Come Autumn, I decided to clean out my closet and found them again. This time, they weren’t old shoes anymore.

“Grandpa, what’s that?”

My six-year-old granddaughter had caught me about get rid of the infested footwear.

“Just old shoes.”

“They’re filled with spider webs. Do Charlotte’s babies live there?”

I’d shown Mia the movie “Charlotte’s Web” recently. Now I knew what I had to do.

Mia and I found a safe place for them in my shed.

I’m still not getting a pig.

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields flash fiction writing challenge. The idea is to use the image above as the inspiration for writing a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. My word count is 99.

It is true that after my Dad died in April, I took a pair of his old shoes as a backup pair to the ones I currently wear. It’s also true that recently, I showed my grandchildren the 2006 live action version film version of Charlotte’s Web. The combination of the two, plus the photo, inspired this wee tale.

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

I Want To Make It With You

bread

© Kelvin M. Knight

“It’s my year to choose our wedding anniversary theme so just put on a happy face.”

“We weren’t married until 1980. How about a band from then?”

“Hush. We met in high school in 1973. This was their big album that year.”

“It ruined the senior prom.”

Jean pressed “play” and the vintage CD stereo begin soft sounds of “Make it with you.” She took his hand. He pulled her close. They danced.

“Not bad, eh lover?”

“Never bad with you, Baby.”

He still thought the band Bread was awful but after all, it’s the things you do for love that count.

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields photo writing challenge. The idea is to use the image above as a prompt to write a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. After a lot of editing, I got my submission down to 100.

I admit that I found the photo far too schmaltzy for my tastes, but while I was cooking breakfast, I had an epiphany. Yes, I too can’t stand that 1970s band, but a piece of bread with a heart cut out in the center seems to describe them perfectly. Oh, in 1973, their hit album really was The Best of Bread and the lead track on side one was Make It with You.

To read other stories inspired by the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

The Desert of the Real

desert

© Danny Bowman

Life after the Matrix. Morpheus called it “the desert of the real”. I should have taken the blue pill and stayed in wonderland. No, then I’d be lost. We won. We defeated the machines, removed all those people from the power source. They died to free humanity.

We didn’t murder them, they just didn’t want to live without the simulated reality of the Matrix. I don’t want to live without it, without her.

Trinity died fighting the machines. I’m blind. We still won. We have reality, but it’s a desert. Now that I look back, the fantasy was much better.

Written for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers photo writing challenge. The idea is to use the image above as the inspiration for creating a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words. My word count is 100.

Obviously, I’m referring both to the 1999 film The Matrix and the third film in the trilogy The Matrix Revolutions (2003). Yes, I’ve changed how the trilogy ends. I let Neo live, but to prove a point. Sometimes the fantasy is more interesting than the reality, and the cost of facing reality is high.

To read more stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

Life in Ruins

Renwick Ruins

© Roger Bulltot

I like it here. I know, there are more reasons to tear this place down than to preserve it. And yet I find the aging, crumbling walls have their own beauty, especially in the way that nature has chosen to integrate herself in this place.

I have a confession. I like it here because it reminds me of me. The Renwick Ruins and I are the same, aging, decaying, and yet seeking our own place in the world. There are reasons why I should be torn down, too. We are both old. Does that mean we should both die?

I wrote this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields photo writing challenge. The idea is to use the image above as a prompt to write a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. My word count is exactly 99.

The image is titled “smallpox hospital” and it didn’t take much “Googling” to discover that the photo is of the ruins of the Renwick Smallpox Hospital on Roosevelt Island in New York.

In some ways, this blog post is related to one I wrote on a sister blog late yesterday. Both are about the examination of an older life struggling to survive and somehow remake itself. Like the Renwick Ruins, it might not be possible, but who knows.

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.