Tag Archives: flash fiction

When Adam Awoke

hand

© artycaptures.wordpress.com

The light was too bright at first but then his eyes adjusted. He took a deep breath and exhaled feeling pleasure at the rise and fall of his chest. He looked at the clacking sound above him. Something turning around and around. A cool breeze came from it. It felt nice.

He sat up and realized this thing in front of him was his. He lifted it up. Moved the digits, Turned it back and forth. It did everything he thought about. He giggled. It was fun.

Another sound to his left. Something opened. Adam was scared. He tried to speak but it came out as a moan. Who’s that?

“There, there, dear boy. Don’t be afraid. I’m your doctor. I’m here to help. My staff and I will take care of you.”

He walked closer. He seemed friendly but Adam was nervous.

“You’re name is Adam. I told you that before when you woke up after the operation. My name is Dr. Frankenstein, Victor Von Frankenstein. I think we’re going to become good friends.

I wrote this for the FFfAW Challenge-Week of September 5, 2017 hosted by Priceless Joy. The idea is to use the image above as the inspiration for writing a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words long. My word count is 175.

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

Hunger in the Darkness

Poisson Blanc Regional Park

© Google 2009

“Emily, how’s it wild camping if we have to book the damn island. Come on, help me with the raft.”

“But Patrick, what if we get caught?”

“No one expects us in this part of Poisson Blanc so late in the season. Already threatening to snow. The cowards who camp here with RVs, and surfboards, and smartphones don’t know what nature is. Better set up camp. It’s getting dark.”

“I’ll light a fire, Pat.”

As the sun descended into the west, something was rising.

“What’s that howling, Pat?” They were sitting by the fire roasting fresh trout.

“Don’t know, but it’s getting closer.”

“You said no dangerous animals here.”

“Shouldn’t be. No wolves so…”

From just beyond the circle of firelight, a huge shape slowly emerged from the forest, eyes glowing. It said one word. “Wendigo.” Then amid their shrieks, Patrick and Emily were messily devoured by the cannibal amphibian.

I wrote this for the What Pegman Saw writing challenge. The idea is to use the location provided from Google maps as the inspiration for crafting a piece of flash fiction no more than 150 words long. My word count is exactly 150.

Today, the Pegman takes us to Poisson-Blanc, Quebec. I looked the place up and this Regional Park offers just about every outdoor activity you can imagine, including being able to reserve small islands for wild camping.

I looked up “wild camping,” and while it has a variety of applications, in it’s purest form, it’s camping with a minimal equipment, no provided facilities (showers, bathrooms, picnic tables and the like), and you shouldn’t have to pay for it.

That was part of my hook, but then I needed to create drama. How many TV shows and movies have depicted young and daring campers encountering some sort of menace in an isolated location?

I remembered the legend of the Wendigo, ironically from an old “Incredible Hulk” comic book which featured the very first appearance of “The Wolverine” (you may know the character better from the “X-Men” and “Wolverine” movies). Anyway, like Big Foot, Wendigo is a legendary creature, but to make it worse, it eats people.

How did this creature go so long undetected? I gave it the feature of being amphibious, and no one is looking for it underwater.

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

Incident on the Dover Bridge

tank

© A Mixed Bag 2013

President Trump declared a state of Martial Law for the affected areas of the Eastern Seaboard, including New Jersey, Maryland, and Delaware, for lack of any better idea. The impossible was happening. Groups of Native Americans, along with their houses and towns were appearing at random in different geographic areas, replacing whatever and whoever had been there before.

The President’s interim Science Advisor Michael Kratsios checked and found there was a small group at MIT experimenting with cross-dimensional fields which possibly caused these phenomena.

Captain Roberts had directed his tank over the Dover Bridge crossing the Choptank River about five miles from Easton, Maryland. Halfway across the span, the bridge changed and in the middle of the bridge was a military troop armed with rocket launchers.

“Franklin, get us stopped in a hurry.”

“Yes sir.” Sgt Caroline Franklin brought the tank to an abrupt halt. Roberts popped the turret hatch hoping he could talk his way out if this mess, whatever it was. The leader of the group called up to him.

“I’m First Warrior Achak Running Bear of the Lenni Lenape Militia. I understand you think you own this land. We’re here to take back what is ours.”

I wrote this for the Sunday Photo Fiction challenge of September 3rd, 2017. The idea is to use the photo above as the inspiration for writing a piece of flash fiction no more than 200 words long. My word count is 199.

I tried to find the actual location where this photo was taken, which isn’t likely to be where I’ve set my wee tale, but I failed miserably. However one of the references for “dover bridge” Google pointed me to was the bridge and river I used for my story. I’ve leveraged some plot points from a series of time travel stories I’m currently writing based on the works of the late Andre Norton (whose real name was Alice Mary Norton), particularly a chapter I published yesterday called Incursion. What would happen if a scientific experiment went wrong and started replacing parts of our world with an alternate reality, one in which Europe had never colonized the Americas? Today’s piece of short fiction gives us a taste of the answer.

To read other 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.

How Can We Get You To See Us?

shops

© Jade M. Wong

“You really think this will replace the statue in Columbus Circle, Sky?”

“Of course not, Corey. I created this in protest. The city still won’t remove the Columbus statue, in spite of our petition. Seattle, L.A., even Phoenix for Christ’s sake have changed Columbus Day to Indigenous Peoples’ Day. When will New York wake up?”

“Something that looks like a pregnant albino donut shot with arrows and bleeding is going to raise awareness?”

“You have no concept of art, Corey.”

“I’m telling you sis, they’ll ignore us just like they always have.”

“What’s your bright idea?”

“Shedding real blood would get their attention.”

“We’ve lost every war we’ve ever had with them, Corey. That’s why most of our people live on the res in poverty and alcoholism. We’ve got to make them see us, hear us, and understand us. If your group gets violent, they’ll dismiss us just like “Black Lives Matter.” You’re an author, Corey. A storyteller. Tell our story and keep telling it until they have to listen. Please. There’s no other way.”

I wrote this for the FFfAW Challenge-Week of August 29, 2017. The idea is to use the image above as the inspiration for creating a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words long. My word count is 175.

I noticed the image had the words “Shops at Columbus Circle” so I started there, and then read more about Columbus Circle itself including the statue of Christopher Columbus. I recalled reading some news about Indigenous Peoples’ Day and how it’s gaining traction in possibly replacing Columbus Day in some communities.

Combined with the piece of art shown in the photo, I decided to create this story.

How do you get a large, powerful group of people to listen to you? Peaceful protests are often ignored, and disruptive, violent protests and even riots, while they get a great deal of attention, usually result in a negative label being attached to the protestors. Making seemingly unreasonable and outrageous demands such as these just results in you becoming the object of ridicule (although to be fair, Snopes.com puts a different spin on the matter).

So what’s the answer?

I don’t know if I have one except to keep telling your story and take the moral high road. If you don’t back down, if you keep your story in front of people but you do so in a way that shows you in a positive light, then eventually people of good conscious will be able to enter into a dialog and then real change will begin. At least that’s my hope.

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

Flowers in a Teacup

cups

© Dawn M. Miller

“Be careful not to spill, Daddy.”

Jacob gently placed a full teacup on each of the three poles at his five-year-old daughter Emily’s direction.

“Thank you, Daddy.” She ran up to him and hugged him. “I love you.”

Jacob bent down to hug her. “I love you too, Sweetheart.”

He stood, took Emily’s hand, and together they admired his work. “Do you really think the fairies will come for your tea party tonight?”

“They’re really shy, Daddy. We can’t be around or they won’t come.”

“Then how do you know…?”

“The tea will be gone, silly Daddy. They’ll leave flowers in the cups to say ‘Thank you.'”

“Okay. We’d better get going.”

They walked across the field back toward home. Jacob planned to fulfill her fantasy later that night.

It was after nine before he could get away. Halfway out to where he’d set the cups, he saw fireflies fluttering around them, but they were so big. After they left, he walked to the cups. In place of the tea, each one contained an arrangement of wildflowers.

Jacob looked at the flowers in his hand and set them on the ground. Even fairies knew not to disappoint a little girl.

I wrote this for the Sunday Photo Fiction Challenge for August 27th 2017. The idea is to use the image above as an inspiration for crafting a piece of flash fiction no more than 200 words long. My word count is exactly 200.

I had a tough time with this one mainly because I don’t think the ending comes as much of a surprise. Still, I wanted to write something family-oriented and uplifting.

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

Jun Ho’s First Train Ride

north korean train depot

Jun Ho was only six-years old and this was his first train ride. Daddy couldn’t come, but Mommy said they were going all the way to Russia.

Soo Mi took her only child by his hand as the train pulled into Pyongyang station. It would take eight days to reach Moscow and anything could go wrong in that time. She showed the forged identity papers to the conductor. It was unlikely her husband would suspect they’d attempt to escape this way.

Her son was so excited as they sat in their seats. He giggled as the train started moving. They would never see North Korea again. Her long assignment as a sleeper agent was over. She was taking her precious boy and North Korea’s nuclear secrets to the west with her.

Her husband, a Major in the Korean People’s Army, would search for them in vain.

I wrote this for the What Pegman Saw photo writing challenge, with images provided by Google maps. Today, the pegman takes us to North Korea. The challenge is to use a single image as the inspiration for crafting a piece of flash fiction no more than 150 words long. My word count is exactly 146.

I took a peek at the image used by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog post response to the prompt (no, I haven’t read her story yet), and although I could have used another photo, I was captivated by the idea of traveling by rail in North Korea. I found out that there is a train that travels back and forth between Pyongyang and Moscow by way of Irkutsk.

From there, I used North Korea’s nuclear threat to the world as a hook and my wee tale practically wrote itself.

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

The Minutemen of October

lights of sturgis

© Jan Wayne Fields

“I say we’re gonna get the code real soon. We’re at DEFCON 2. If the Commies run the blockade and the Navy tries to stop ’em, it’ll be nuclear war.

Despite his apparent anxiousness. Air Force Corporal Brandon “Red” Kowalski was still deemed able to man one of the 50 Minuteman missile silos on the Ellsworth Air Force Base complex north of Sturgis, South Dakota.

“President Kennedy won’t risk World War III over this. He’ll figure something else…” SSgt Tyler Lundgren stopped talking when the alarm went off. Lundgren decoded the message. Both men retrieved their individual keys. They were at war.

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

When I found out that the image is titled “lights of sturgis,” I looked that up and found out that Sturgis, South Dakota has an annual Parade of Lights. I also found out that “the vast Ellsworth Air Force Base complex, the land north of Sturgis was dotted with 50 Minuteman missile silos. The L5 is 3.5 miles (5.6 km) from the center of the town.”

That led me to think about the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962. Here’s a quote from that article:

“On October 25, the aircraft carrier USS Essex and the destroyer USS Gearing attempted to intercept the Soviet tanker Bucharest as it crossed over the U.S. quarantine of Cuba. The Soviet ship failed to cooperate, but the U.S. Navy restrained itself from forcibly seizing the ship, deeming it unlikely that the tanker was carrying offensive weapons. On October 26, Kennedy learned that work on the missile bases was proceeding without interruption, and ExCom considered authorizing a U.S. invasion of Cuba. The same day, the Soviets transmitted a proposal for ending the crisis: The missile bases would be removed in exchange for a U.S. pledge not to invade Cuba.”

But what if the Navy did try to seize the Bucharest and tensions continued to escalate? The Soviets might not have transmitted their proposal ending the crisis and nuclear war could have been the result.

While all this was happening, I was an eight-year-old boy resting in a hospital in Omaha, Nebraska after having my tonsils taken out. I don’t have a clear memory of Mom or Dad, but much later on, Dad told me that while Mom and I were in the hospital, he and another Air Force airman were manning a missile silo preparing to launch their Minuteman at their designated target. You may or may not know that after receiving the nuclear go codes from the President, each of the two men had to individually insert a key into different locks and turn them simultaneously in order to launch their  missile. This prevented any one person from being able to perform the launch.

Fortunately, in real life, none of that happened, but at the time, everyone thought it would, at least the adults.

I know. My story has practically nothing to do with the prompt photo. Normally, I’m pretty literal, but this time, I had a different idea and I ran with it.

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

Strange Curses

junk on sidewalk

© Yarnspinner

“I’ve got nothing. What about you, Munoz?”

Alicia Munoz shook her head. “Beats me, Lambert. My Abuela said she was a Bruja and did some pretty strange stuff, but I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Secret Service Agents Munoz and Dallas Lambert were investigating the objects in front of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Eleven small pots, burnt wood, a collection of stones and bricks, a bag containing feathers, and a plastic water bottle.

“The eclipse maybe?”

“Maybe. The crazies are coming out of the woodwork over it.”

“Has the suspect said anything, Munoz?”

“Hunt and Murray are doing the interrogation. Let me call in…”

Alicia’s cell rang. “Munoz here.”

“It’s Hunt. You won’t believe it. Suspect’s told us everything.”

“What?”

“He’s Stephen Keller, homeless, in and out of state mental hospitals.”

“So what’s this crazy shit in front of the White House.”

“Get this. He was cursing the President. He was cursing Trump with blindness.”

“What, he wants Trump to look at the eclipse without his protective glasses? That is nuts. Oh, Hazmat’s here. Gotta go.”

I wrote this for the FFfAW Challenge for the Week of August 22, 2017. The idea is to use the image above to craft a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words long with 150 being the ideal. My word count is 174 and I had to do a lot of editing to get my original story down to that size.

Yesterday, the “twitterverse” went nuts because President Donald Trump really did look briefly at the solar eclipse without his protective glasses. I saw the video and he glanced up just for an instant and may not have looked directly at the sun. Still, it was a foolish thing to do since even the tiniest bit of exposure can result in eye damage. Nevertheless, I’ve not heard any subsequent reports that he’s suffered from vision loss.

I made up all the stuff about a curse and I have no idea what any of the objects in the photo are used for. I had to think of something, though.

By the way, “Abuela” is “Grandmother” in Spanish and “Bruja” means “witch”.

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

Melvin’s Basement

© A Mixed Bag 2012

It had been two years since their divorce was final and Melvin finally had his basement set up. It was the toy room he dreamed of as a child. Space, the final frontier, and all of the aircraft, rocket ships, and space stations he thought would be reality in 2017.

“I was promised my moon base.” Melvin murmured. “Where is my moon base? Where is my rotating ring space station? Why haven’t we colonized Mars yet?”

When he was twelve years old, Star Trek first came on the air and Melvin dreamed. Then he got older, went to college, got a job, got married, and had kids. Jeannie had been the practical one in the marriage. She detested clutter, so out went his models, his comic books, his scifi novel collection.

Married life became an exercise in control and being controlled. That ended two years ago to the day. He had spent a fortune to rebuild his paperback and comic book collection.

“I’m free.”

Melvin sat down near the basement door and admired his toy room. Now if only he had someone to share it with. Melvin was free of his family and now he was free to be alone.

I wrote this for the Sunday Photo Fiction Writing Challenge for August 20th, 2017. The idea is to use the image above to craft a piece of flash fiction no more than 200 words long. My word count is 199.

I think anyone who’s been married for any length of time knows that there’s quite a bit of compromise that goes into a marriage. Sure, you need to live out your dreams but you also need to make room in your life for what your spouse needs. Apparently, that didn’t happen between Melvin and Jeannie, but then again, we haven’t heard her side of the story. Sadly whatever happened has left Melvin a very lonely man.

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