Category Archives: Flash Friday Fiction

Flash Friday Fiction: Cock-A-Doodle THIS!

Posted on by — No Comments ↓

traveler

Cock-A-Doodle THIS! – 206 words

“Why did the chicken cross the road?” you wise-asses always joke.

No one ever asks about the rooster. No, forget the bloody rooster. I’m just comic relief, providing nicknames for male genitalia, supplying funny sounds for children to imitate (no self-respecting rooster actually SAYS cock-a-doodle-doo; don’t you people listen?), strutting my way around the henhouse. So you think.

Cockerel, I tell you.

Do you know what I do in my off time? It’s all subterfuge, sitting high on this fence day after day, pretending to guard those ridiculous hens below. They’d never leave the yard if given the chance. Scaredy cats. Oh, wait. Wrong species.

You think I’m following centuries-old hormonal directions, guarding my progeny from attack. Ha. I’m planning my escape. I’ve had enough, always voicing the alarm with nobody listening. Don’t you SEE what’s happening, what they’re doing? Bunch of chickens.

It’s a dog-eat-dog world, and I ain’t goin’ down with the chicken livers. They ain’t making no capon of me.

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

So I’m off to Hollywood, to lights, stardom, fame, acclaim. If that idiot Foghorn Leghorn can succeed, I’m a shoe-in.

As soon as I figure out how to get across this road.

This week’s novel inspiration: Canterbury Tales, Geoffrey Chaucer’s bitingly clever collection of tales by a colorful troupe of pilgrims — as a contest, no less, with a free dinner as the prize.

Story elements (we have to base our story on at least two of these elements)

* Conflict: man v man
* Character (choose one): a knight on a quest, a patient wife, a treacherous wife, three foolish gamblers, a talking rooster, a saint who survives execution
* Theme(s) (choose one): subterfuge, corruption, justice, pranks, courtly love
* Setting: long road en route to a shrine

I chose character (talking rooster, obvs), theme (subterfuge), and setting (a long road en route to a shrine – because Hollywood’s a shrine, right?), and stuffed them all into a story fitting the limits of 190-210 words.

What do you think? Is my tail (er, I mean tale) anything to crow about?

Cockeral waltz your way on over to Flash Friday Fiction to check out the other stories, comment, or maybe add one of your own!

Flash Friday Fiction: If You Can’t Beat ‘Em …

Posted on by — No Comments ↓
crawford-gilbert-1928
Joan Crawford & John Gilbert; publicity photo for the film “Four Walls,” 1928. Public domain image in the U.S.

If You Can’t Beat ‘Em … – 148 words

I was jealous. Damn jealous. Wanting the gold to myself. Wanting to wrap myself in it, luxuriate in its weight, let those baubles trickle through my fingers.

But no. It was you. Always you. You got the dresses, the earrings, the fame. I was merely background, my sober demeanor matching my black and white formalwear.

Am I not pretty? Is my hair not as perfectly coiffed as yours, Brilliantine securing its rippling waves? My eyebrows have not your arch, I concede, but my lipgloss catches the light better than your matte finish.

I wanted to garb myself in flowing robes of glittering delight, to paint my face all the colors of the rainbow, to revel in the beauty of my own fine form.

The closest I got was embracing you.

Why else do you think I married you?

I didn’t want your body, darling.

I wanted your closet.

This week’s novel inspiration: The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s tragic tale of excess and social upheaval in 1920s America as portrayed by the nouveau riche Jay Gatsby’s obsession with the married Daisy Buchanan.

Story elements (base your story on any TWO of these elements; be sure to tell us which two you chose. Reminder: please do not use copyrighted characters).

* Conflict (choose one): man vs man; man vs society
* Character (choose one): nouveau riche, jealous husband, shallow socialite
* Theme(s) (choose one): obsession, prohibition, the limitations of wealth
* Setting: 1920s New York

I chose character (jealous husband) and theme (obsession, and prohibition, of a sort), for this week’s tiny tale. Stories had to be between 100-150 words. What do you think of my silly offering?

Please style your way on over to Flash Friday Fiction to check out the other entries, and perhaps leave a comment or two for the very talented writers there!

Flash Friday Fiction: Brotherly Love

Posted on by — 2 Comments ↓
Lyme Park House & Estate. CC2.0 photo by Purpura Mare Asinus.
Lyme Park House & Estate. CC2.0 photo by Purpura Mare Asinus.

Brotherly Love (255 words)

“There’s a ghost in there.”

“Is not.”

“Is, too! My brother says so. Says it’s a lady who died.”

“How?”

“I dunno. But she was pretty, he says.”

“Girls, pretty? Yech.”

“Sometimes I think Abby McAllister is pretty.”

“I’m telling! I’m telling!”

“Better not. Or I’ll tell your mom about the time you peed in the vent and blamed the cat.”

silence

“That’s what I thought. Wanna go in?”

“In? What for?”

“To see the ghost, dummy.”

“Uh, there might be spiders in there.”

“Yeah, there might also be treasure. C’mon, ya chicken.”

“Frankie?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t feel so good about this. I … I think something just touched me.”

“What, like a creepy hand?”

“Yeah! Like a creepy hand!”

“Geez, I was just kidding. Calm down.”

“But … but …”

“I swear, there’s nothing in here.”

“Wait, did you hear that?”

moaning

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“Look who’s peeing now.”

“Let’s get out of here!”

“I can’t – something’s got me!”

“What do you mean, something’s got you?”

“Mmmppffh–”

“Frankie? Frankie!”

silence

“OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod. I … I … swear on my mother’s grave, I’ll … I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll go to church every Sunday. I’ll help old ladies cross the street. I’ll …”

“… Do your brother’s chores for the next six months?”

“Yeah, yeah! Just let me out of here.”

shuffling noises

“Frankie, is that you?”

“I am the ghost of Frankie Past!”

“Aaaaaaaaaa! I’m getting out of here!”

running feet

“Frankie?”

“Yeah?”

“Here’s that twenty bucks I promised. Totally worth it.”

This week’s novel inspiration: Hound of the Baskervilles, Arthur Conan Doyle’s tale starring celebrated detective Sherlock Holmes, who uses his (arrogant) genius to solve murders against a backdrop of a legendary, terrifying hellhound.

Story elements (base your story on any TWO of these elements; be sure to tell us which two you chose. Reminder: please do not use copyrighted characters).

* Conflict: man vs man
* Character (choose one): arrogant detective, retired doctor, a lord under a family curse
* Theme(s) (choose one): cunning, guilt, superstition
* Setting: isolated country manor

We got 240-260 words to tell our story, based on at least two of the story elements listed above. I chose conflict, theme, AND setting. I wanted to write a story that was entirely dialog. This one, I guess, is 95% so, since I offered some stage direction. What do you think?

Flash Friday Fiction: 1001 Nights

Posted on by — 2 Comments ↓
Sinbad the Sailor. Illustration by Frances Brundage, published 1898 in The Arabian Nights, edited by George Fyler Townsend.
Sinbad the Sailor. Illustration by Frances Brundage, published 1898 in The Arabian Nights, edited by George Fyler Townsend.

1001 Nights – 250 words

She wanted a magic lamp with a genie. Not the Robin Williams, in-your-face kind of genie; big, loud guys weren’t her type, though she dealt with her fair share. No, she wanted the I Dream of Jeannie genie, but a male version, of course. In an outfit like cartoon Aladdin wore, only he – and his six-pack – would be real.

Where was her rags-to-riches story? Her Prince Charming? Her Richard Gere?

Life on the streets was no Hollywood movie, for sure.

She shoved the mass of bleached-blonde hair out of her eyes and sighed. A glimpse in the mirror told her yesterday’s make-up was today’s clown mask. A clown. That’s what she was. A gross distortion of the little princess she’d once been, back when she had a home. A family.

She’d thrown it all away like a farmer emptying slops, spreading venom and hatred far and wide, encasing her parents in chunks of anger, denial, rebellion, fear.

This was no fairy tale. This was Good Girl Gone Bad, the privileged reduced to the prostitute, desperation oozing out of every pore along with cigarette smoke.

The light from the bulb in the ceiling sputtered and went out.

She closed her eyes. She should go out, too. Out with a bang, or with a whimper. It wouldn’t matter. Just out.

She rubbed her belly. It kicked in response. She was out of options. Out of wishes.

One thousand and one nights of hell.

She picked up the phone.

“Hello, mom?”

As you might have guessed from the picture and the title of my story, this week’s novel inspiration is The Arabian Nights, a collection of ancient Middle Eastern folktales. Among the more famous of these stories are Sinbad the Sailor, Scheherazade, Aladdin, and Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.

Our challenge was to craft a story of exactly 250 words using 2 of the following story elements (picture was an option prompt, and not one I used).

* Conflict: varies; often man vs man or man vs self
* Character (choose one): street urchin, adventuring sailor, girl unaware of her true heritage
* Theme(s) (choose one): Rags to riches, justice, forgiveness
* Setting: ancient Persia

I chose street urchin (of a sort) and man vs. self. What do you think? Wanna read other contributions? Grab that magic carpet and head on over to Flash Friday Fiction.

 

Flash Friday Fiction: Ignorance Is Strength

Posted on by — No Comments ↓
Riot Police. CC2.0 photo by Thomas Hawk.
Riot Police. CC2.0 photo by Thomas Hawk.

Ignorance is Strength – 215 words

“Persistence is futile,” you say.

I laugh. You always get it wrong. “That’s not how it—“

“Persistence is futile,” you interrupt, brows furrowing as your mouth turns down.

I go back to scrubbing the pan. No sense arguing.

“Big Mother is watching,” you say.

I heave a sigh. “Brother. It’s Brother.”

“I’ve got my thigh on you.”

Now I know you have to be kidding. But my guffaws are met with stony silence, your black eyes beading into mine.

I raise up my red, raw hands in surrender.

You nod, and return to cleaning the counters.

I look out the window, watching them march by, all black and white and shouting orders.

A small boy darts out in the middle of them, laughing as his panicked mother lunges after.

They tread on him with no second thoughts, and soon red joins the monochrome color scheme.

I want to cry out, but noise brings notice, and that’s the last thing we want.

I look back at you. You watch me with a steady gaze, a slight nod indicating you, too, saw the horror that just occurred. One of many. An average day.

We duck our heads. Focus on our work.

“Live long and whisper,” you say.

Prosper, my mind corrects, but I don’t bother saying it.

Here were this week’s rules for Flash Friday Fiction:

Using George Orwell’s 1984 (in which a historian secretly rebels against the oppressive government he works for) as novel inspiration, craft a story of 200-225 words, using two of the following story elements:

* Conflict: man vs society (government)
* Character: historian
* Theme(s): Censorship and/or totalitarianism
* Setting: dystopia (near-future society ruled by an evil, oppressive government)

I chose everything except the historian. What do you think of my mini-tale? I’d love to hear from you in the comments! And if you march on over to Flash Friday Fiction, you may read the other weekly offerings, or perhaps contribute your own.