The Last Concert of the Kings of Long Beach

sunset

© Footy and Foodie

The Kings of Long Beach were back in their hometown playing where they’d first met twelve years ago, in the courtyard at the Hathaway Apartments. They started out as five high school students with a dream, but unlike most of their peers, they’d actually made it.

The parking lot was packed as was the street parking for miles around. Everyone wanted to see the Kings again, especially since the concert was free for the neighborhood.

The Kings’ lead singer, Toby McGuire stepped into the spotlight and up to the mike. “Hello Hathaway!”

The crowd went insane, their cheers could be heard for blocks.

“The Kings are back!” Toby turned to Miles Johnson the drummer, “And a one and a two and a…”

It sounded like a firecracker, but then Toby grabbed his chest and collapsed on the makeshift stage. People closest to the front saw Beth Middleton holding a gun, staring at Toby’s unmoving body, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“You made me kill my baby twelve years ago. Now go be with her.”

Written for the FFfAW Challenge-Week of June 20, 2017 hosted by Priceless Joy. The idea is to write a piece of flash fiction based on the image above that is between 100 and 175 words long, with 150 being the ideal. My word count is 174.

I know the topic is controversial, and I debated whether or not Beth had an abortion or just presented Toby with his twelve year old daughter at the climax of the story, but the former including the murder was more dramatic and communicated the pain of what she had gone through.

Toby and the “Kings” had started out just like a million other high school “garage bands” but they had actually made into stardom. However, there was collateral damage along the way and it came back to the Kings tonight in the form of death.

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

Out of the Shadows

castle

© majesticgoldenrose

Victoria staggered out of the front doors of the manor. Thank God it was morning. The long dark night was finally over. She sank to her knees on the wet grass and wept. She was the only one who survived. All the others had died. She had killed the last one, Barnabas, the one who started it all.

How long had it been since he first arrived? Weeks? Months? He said he was a distant cousin from England, but in fact, he was centuries old, released from his crypt by a greedy little groundskeeper who thought he’d found hidden treasure.

All he found was a man with a curse and whose insane lust for blood cursed the rest of the family. Victoria was the only one left, bitten but she did not succumb. The sun was rising. She killed the rest and now there was only one left. The sun continued to rise and its light shone upon her. It burned. She was the last vampire. And now there were none.

Written for FFfAW Challenge-Week of June 13, 2017 #2 hosted by Priceless Joy.

The idea is to use the photo above as an inspiration to write a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words. My word count is 171.

The image immediately made me think of the old TV show Dark Shadows, a daytime gothic soap opera which ran Monday through Friday in the late 1960s and early 70s. I blatantly ripped off themes from the series to craft my little tale, although taking it in a direction the show never did.

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

The Solution

camping site

© Pamela S Canepa

“This is a good place to camp, Dallas. Let’s stop here.”

“We could keep hiking and find some place less rocky, Grant. We’ve got another good hour of daylight.”

“Listen brother-in-law, I’m not as young as I used to be. Let’s rest here tonight.”

Dallas laughed. “That’s ex-brother-in-law to you. Julie and I have been divorced a year now.”

Grant pulled off his backpack and started rummaging around inside. “You know Julie called me the other day.”

Dallas had taken off his backpack and was getting out his sleeping bag. “You can’t believe everything she says, Grant.”

“She said she didn’t get those bruises from falling down the stairs like you told me.”

Dallas looked up at Grant and froze. “Hey, you don’t need that.”

Grant aimed the .357 magnum at Dallas’ face. “You’re never going to hurt my sister again. No one knows we were going camping together. They’ll never find your body way out here.”

I wrote this for the FFfAW Challenge-Week of June 6, 2017 hosted by Priceless Joy. The idea is to use the photo above as an inspiration to create a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words long with 150 being the ideal. My word count is 156.

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

Threatening Violence

street car

© Yinglan

It had been a long time since Eddie played tourist, especially in San Francisco. He’d lived here a long time ago when you didn’t have to be a wealthy tech worker to afford a place in the City. Eddie got off the Number Four cable car at the Market-Powell turnaround intending to take BART back to the East Bay where his sister still lived.

As he stepped down to the street, over a dozen kids, probably gangbangers, surrounded the car and started pushing people around. “Wallets, jewelry, the usual stuff and right now.”

Eddie was astonished at how docile everyone was, including the car operator.

“Drop dead,” Eddie growled at the nearest punk. The kid pulled a knife but twenty years in the Marines made it impossible for one person to take the older man down.

“Get lost or I’ll slice him.” Everyone turned to see the middle-aged man holding the kid’s knife at his throat. The gangsters fled and several would be victims called 911 asking the cops to arrest Eddie for assault.

I wrote this in response to the FFfAW Challenge-Week of May 30, 2017 hosted by Priceless Joy. The idea is to use the photo above as a prompt to write a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words long, with 150 being the ideal. My word count is 173.

My story was inspired by a couple of news items I’d read recently: Mob of teens drag woman off Muni bus, rob her in San Francisco and Teens Commandeer BART Train in Violent Takeover Robbery of Passengers.

I lived in the Bay Area for seven years, including in San Francisco (late 1970s, early ’80s) and am astonished that crime there has gotten this bad. I used the photo plus these news reports as my inspiration. No, maybe one person resisting might not have stopped these crimes, but people could at least try. Of course, as in the case of the BART crime, if 50 or 60 criminals are involved, they’d be hard to stop.

I did add a spin making the witnesses more afraid of Eddie than the robbers because he was the most threatening figure. Sometimes in our modern western world, people confuse heroes for villains and vice versa.

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

The Long Dark Winter

freezing

© 2013 loniangraphics

“God it’s cold out there, Simon.”

“You say that every time you go out for supplies. Of course it’s cold. How’d you do?”

“The Rogues’ shipment from down south came in early. Paying those mercenaries cost a lot, but I managed some oranges and strawberries this time. How about you?”

“Got enough fuel from Old Man Mayberry to last us a couple more weeks at least. By then, he says he can get us some more.”

Carrie set her groceries down on the counter. It’s only a one room cabin, originally built as an artist’s retreat several miles outside of town, but now Simon and Carrie Mitchell call it home. Being small, it’s easy to heat, which is important, since the overall global temperature averages 3 to 4 degrees F less than it did before the Indian-Pakistani nuclear war five years ago.

It’s a limited “nuclear winter,” not quite like all of the disaster movies of the previous decade, but it will be fifteen years at least before the climate begins to return to pre-war levels.

I wrote this in response to the FFfAW Challenge-Week of May 16, 2017 hosted by Priceless Joy. The idea is to use the photo prompt above to write a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words, with 150 being the ideal. My word count is 174.

When I saw the photo, after turning over a few possibilities in my mind, I settled on the topic of large scale nuclear winter. I first thought that it would be set off on purpose by a madman to counter the effects of climate change.

Then, doing a bit of research, I decided to lessen the effect and scope to show that even a “small” nuclear conflict could do long lasting damage to the environment.

I imagined that traditional government would break down, at least in certain areas, and that mercenaries would provide necessary services for an inflated price.

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

The Pest

garden

© Yarnspinner

Mornings were lovely here. Jim sighed as he took his cup of coffee and book to the table in his garden. He could finally afford the peace and quiet a lifetime of working had denied him.

His wife had passed away and the children all had lives of their own. He tolerated the occasional holiday or summer visit, but found he preferred his own company.

“Hey there, neighbor. Welcome. Great garden. Mind if I have a look? Thanks.”

“Who the hell…?” Jim rose to his feet and found his right hand being vigorously shaken by a paunchy, balding man in baggy shorts and a garish Hawaiian shirt.

“Bill’s the name. Glad to see a new neighbor. Sure that we’ll be best friends. What kind of garden you got? How about a cup of coffee? Cream and sugar if you’ve got it.

Jim got coffee, the sugar, the cream, and added an abundant portion of strychnine, not enough to kill the pest, but enough to make him think twice about coming over for refreshments again.

This was written for the FFfAW Challenge of the Week of May 9. The idea is to use the photo prompt above to create a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words long, with 150 being the ideal. My word count is 174.

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

Every Sunday at Table 19

table 19

© Dawn M. Miller

Dave closed his soda shop on Sundays for two reasons. As a devout Christian, he believed Sunday was the Sabbath and he refused to do business on Christ’s holy day.

The second reason was more complicated. He knew they needed to have some time just the two of them. Each Saturday night, right after he closed, Dave put two empty paper cups at their favorite table, number 19. When he opened up Monday morning, the cups were disposed of in the trash, one cup containing the residue of cherry soda, and the other an orange crush.

Nine-year-old Sara and her six-year-old sister Leigh died ten years ago in a car accident just a few blocks from their Grandpa’s soda shop. Weeks later, Dave noticed his supply of cherry soda and orange crush diminishing. Paper cups went missing, and the chairs at table 19 kept moving around.

Dave asked why they weren’t in Jesus’s loving hands but Heaven didn’t answer.

Maybe they missed their Grandpa and his sodas too much to go, at least for now.

I wrote this for the FFfAW Challenge-Week of April 25, 2017. The idea is to use the photo above as a prompt to write a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words long with 150 being the ideal. My word count is 173.

I’ve been thinking of my Dad’s passing recently and am very happy to be back home to be with my two grandchildren. I suppose that all got woven into the fabric of this tale.

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

This Isn’t My Home Anymore

yarnspinner

© yarnspinner

It’s all changing. My home, or what’s left of it, is barely recognizable. Hard to believe I grew up here. This used to be the field where I flew kites, played tag with my friends, where we ran around pretending to be superheroes.

We sure could have used a few of those, but now it’s too late.

The K’trn didn’t make contact with Earth by radio or landing ships on our planet. We found out about them when we detected the bioweapon heading toward us from space. In spite of all the talk of building a defense against asteroid strikes, we couldn’t stop the thing in time…and it was just the first of many.

I’m sure the K’trn don’t call them bioweapons. I wonder what their word is for terraforming? That’s what they’re doing, changing Earth’s climate, atmosphere, everything, so it’s like their home planet.

They should begin colonizing their new world, the Earth, any day now.

I wrote this for the FFfAW Challenge-Week of April 4, 2017 hosted by Priceless Joy. The idea is to write a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words long, with 150 being the ideal. My story comes in at 157 words.

Today, April 5th, is First Contact Day. In the 1996 film Star Trek: First Contact, April 5, 2063 is the day when Vulcans make first contact with humanity after they detect the warp signature from Zefram Cochran’s experimental warp ship, the Phoenix. I hear some Star Trek fans actually celebrate this day. I thought, in honor of the occasion, I’d write a first contact story, though mine is much more grim.

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