Category Archives: Flash Fiction

Love in Autumn

After Jim died I was in a cold, gray fog. The kids were all there with me for the funeral but it is the part that comes after that is the hardest. I moved around dazed feeling like I was walking through Jello. What used to be inconsequential little things, those things I took for granted, would bring back memories to stab at my heart. The absence of the weight of his body on the other side of the bed. The way he would throw his arm over me in the middle of the night. All the million little details he attended to that made my life easier. Each time I confronted something on my own it was a painful reminder that he was gone. I did have a small financial cushion but it would not maintain me in the house. I would have to sell our home and figure out where would be the best place to land next. I did not want my kids to be burdened with a helpless old woman. Is that what I am, a helpless old woman? I was a young woman once who might have been considered a bit radical. What happened to that independent girl who believed in Women’s Liberation? Can I bring her back again? I was scrolling through my Email when I noticed a message from Road Scholar announcing a trip to London to visit all the places that are associated with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and his excellent detective Sherlock Holmes. I had been a great lover of English mysteries and Sherlock Holmes. I always thought it would be wonderful to see 221B Baker Street. Jim and I had wanted to travel but life doesn’t always give you exactly what you want. I signed up for the trip. I could not believe it was really happening when my plane lifted off from LAX. I ordered a glass of wine and stuffed my IPod ear buds in to relax to the sounds of La Boheme, one of my favorite Puccini operas. I must have fallen into a deep sleep because before I knew it the plane was touching down at Heathrow.

Our tour group met in the hotel lobby later that morning. Our guide was an energetic young man who quickly herded us aboard our coach. As I took my seat on the tour bus I doubted myself for a moment, my critical voice chattering in my ear, You’re an old fool. What ever made you think it was a good idea to squander money on a trip like this!   I pulled out my itinerary to check what was scheduled for the day. That was when I heard someone asking me, Is this your first trip to London?  I turned to look in the direction of the voice and saw an older gentleman sitting next to me. His gentle brown eyes held my gaze.

This is my Flash Fiction contribution to the WEP Valentine Challenge, click on the link if you want to know more about it. Featured Image of Sherlock Holmes Museum by Anders Thirsgaard on Flickr.

Approx. 475 words

Critique Preference: General

 

For those in the US, if you would like to do more to help Seniors combat hunger click on the link below to the AARPfoundation.org

During February, AARP will highlight 29 Days of Action – simple things individuals can do to help combat hunger and food insecurity.

Source: 29 Ways to Combat Senior Hunger

Miss Maddie’s Garden

PHOTO PROMPT © The Reclining Gentleman

The people in the neighborhood were too busy struggling to survive their own lives, ( or at least that’s what they told themselves), to notice the old woman who moved in downstairs. That’s why they were surprised when they saw the Spring flowers bursting through the dirt in the abandoned lot next door. More so to see Miss Maddie with a watering can and gardening tools pulling up the weeds.  A studio apartment in one of the older buildings was all she could afford with her Social Security. She could still have beauty in her life, she thought.

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by the gracious Rochelle-Wisoff Fields of the blog Addicted to Purple and the flower image is courtesy of The Reclining Gentleman

 

The Old Blue Truck

It’s bad enough she painted these eyes on my head lamps. Now what is she trying to do, a root canal? I never thought retirement would be like this. Plunked down behind an old garage with assorted shrubbery growing up through my frame. I know I shouldn’t feel too sorry for myself. At least I still have some color, four tires, fenders and a running board. If only I could tell her about all the work I did in my younger years. I was a hard working truck and hauled many a heavy load for my last owner, the farmer, Mr. Thomas. I brought his wife and baby son home from the hospital. I took his son to the bus when he enlisted in the Army. He never came back from that war. I even carried Mr. Thomas to his final resting place over at the town cemetery. I guess this is better than being buried and forgotten. Maybe I can still be useful after all.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is hosted by Joy of Beautiful Words. Image by Pixabay.com

Miss Maddie’s Hope

Miss Maddie’s spirits were always lifted when she saw the sunflowers along the road on her daily walks. She kept to her walks no matter if it was cloudy or bright, hot or cold. She had the self-discipline she had honed over the years of working in jobs where there was little chance of recognition or glory. Her values dictated that you performed your job to the best of your ability and did not shirk your responsibilities. Too bad her employers did not see things the same way and did not share her values or see the need for any loyalty to her. They made sure she was let go before she could be eligible for any retirement benefits.  The sunflowers had popped up without anyone knowing where they came from. To Miss Maddie, like her irrepressible spirit, they were a symbol of hope.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is hosted by Joy of the blog Beautiful Words. Image courtesy of Sonya-Only 100 Words.

The Perfect Getaway

PHOTO PROMPT - © ceayr

The chateau sounded like the perfect getaway even if it was a bit remote. She was to have the use of a car after all. When her best friend heard about it she said that it was just like her to commit to something without really thinking it through. All Jessie knew was that she needed to get away. The recent break up had left her pretty low. The door opened just as she reached up to knock. We’ve been expecting you, he said as their eyes met, welcome home Mademoiselle.  A voice in her head said, Run!

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Image courtesy of Ceayr.

Claustrophobia

The City has a way of closing in, all the cement, asphalt, and buildings. Not a place to catch your breath. Congestion, traffic, and grid lock, you seem to have become immune to it as you go about your daily life. Then you come upon an open expanse that is not developed. An opening onto a natural scene like the wetlands or ocean. You can breath more easily and know what you have been missing. Jenna was so grateful for her condo on the beach. She was not exaggerating when she said, It saved my life.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers in hosted by Priceless Joy of the blog Beautiful Words. Image courtesy of The Storyteller’s Abode.

The Walking Tour

PHOTO PROMPT © Amy Reese

This was to be my getaway weekend. Some much needed time to myself. I brought a stack of paperbacks, my favorite chocolate, and a bottle of Cabernet from a little winery I had discovered on the way up the coast.  I found the brochure on a table in the lobby about a self-guided walking tour. The idea of exploring the back streets and hidden alcoves of this little village really inspired me. It was at the bottom of some old stairs when I saw the vine covered door. It slowly opened and my eyes met his, my future husband.

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Image courtesy of Amy Reese.

 

The Long Branch Saloon

The saloon had been bequeathed to Kitty by the person who shared her name, her beloved grandmother Miss Kitty, who was the original owner and proprietor of The Long Branch Saloon in Dodge City. Kitty had spent many hours playing upstairs in her grandmother’s apartment while the saloon was readied for another night of raucous activity.  Grandmother was a widow but Kitty remembered a special man who visited the Long Branch in an official and sometimes unofficial capacity. He was tall, rugged, and handsome with piercing blue eyes. He often brought little gifts for the girl. Those were happy times. She never thought she would be happy again after her own husband left her without a penny to her name.  She smiled as she remembered the letter from her grandmother that was attached to the will,  I hope you will consider taking over The Long Branch. It has always brought me luck and I know it will do the same for you. Kitty smiled again as Matt walked through the saloon door.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is hosted by Priceless Joy of the Beautiful Words blog. Image of saloon is courtesy of Etol Bagam.

The New Me

This is the new me! I have met my goal weight according to my BMI, said Ms. Knogle excitedly. Now I can wear those small dress sizes I have only dared dream about. And you should see how people just stare at me now while before they never gave me any notice!

Dr. Trim cringed. How could this happen? The computer had always been reliable before. Week after week, month after month, year after year, spewing out the weight recommendations to the staff according to the patient’s BMI. We never had to question it before or give it any thought at all. What could have gone wrong?  After all, the computer never makes a mistake.

The office manager stepped into Dr. Trims’s office. The tech people have figured out what happened, she said nervously. The computer program was corrupted. It is possible it was hacked.

That’s just great, he replied. Have you looked into my waiting room? It looks like a bone yard.

 

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is hosted by Priceless Joy of the blog Beautiful Words. Image of Ms. Knogle, the skeleton, by Pixabay.com

Zenarra the Warrior Queen

Zenarra stood on the balcony surveying the rocky, desert terrain that surrounded the palace. She has been home for only a month but was restless already.  She missed her little house in The Valley of the Moon. She was called back to Lunaris by an urgent message from her mother begging her to return and fulfill her obligation to marry Prince Tomar, leader of the Dorchas Clan. Their marriage was arranged at birth by the two most powerful clans, the Dorchas and, her clan, the Solas.  Zenarra had hoped to escape this arranged marriage by leaving her home planet and starting a new life on Earth. But she was tracked down by a sensor that had been implanted when she was an infant. When she found out about it she had it removed, but she couldn’t ignore her mother’s plea. Queen Denarras had been her greatest ally when she was growing up among seven brothers and a powerful father, King Samar, head of the Solas Clan. Samar had died, under suspicious circumstances, on a hunting trip last Spring and Zenarra did not want her mother to face the Dorchas Clan alone.

So here she was dressed in her gown before the official engagement dinner that was to happen that evening. She felt so uncomfortable in this formal attire.

18703067911_22b6d54b29_z Image by Cajsa Lilliehook on Flickr

Image by Cajsa Lillihook on Flickr

 

You look lovely darling. Zenarra turned to see her mother was standing behind her.

I hate these formal affairs mother and don’t like wearing this heavy gown. All the jewels and weight of this headdress make it hard to walk.

I know dear, I felt the same way the night of my betrothal to your father, Denarras eyes glistened as she gazed at her beautiful daughter and thought, Oh Zenarra you are so much stronger and braver than I was when I married Samar.

Are you ready? Our guests are waiting for us to begin the banquet, Denarras reached out for her daughter’s hand.

I am ready, mother. The two women walked together toward the banquet hall.

As they entered the hall, Zenarra’s eyes scanned the room. All of the important male members of the Dorchas and Solas Clans were seated and she could hear their loud voices and laughter. She noticed that they were laughing and smiling but the glint in their eyes betrayed a deep mistrust. Zenarra saw Tomar seated at the large table at the front of the hall. The bridal table was on a raised platform so all the guests would have a clear view of the couple. Zenarra’s eyes sought out another. Lord Jennar was the leader of her father’s army. She saw him standing in the shadows behind Tomar with the rest of the Solas Honor Guard. Their eyes met and she slowly nodded her head. Jennar leapt forward and grabbed Tomar by the hair. Light gleamed off the sword that quickly ran across Tomar’s throat. The Dorchas Clan leaders rose as one and cried out in rage. The Solas Clan was ready with swords drawn to begin the battle. Zenarra rushed her mother to a safe hiding place behind a wall in her bed chamber.

What are you doing, Zenarra? You will bring destruction down upon this house, Denarras’ eyes were wide with fear.

I could not marry that evil man, mother. It is time for us to fight against the oppression of the women of our clan. It is time for the women to take their true place as leaders along with the men.

Zenarra threw off her heavy gown and jewels. She had worn her tunic and leggings under her dress. She grabbed her chest plate and hurriedly strapped it on with the help of her loyal servant Manet. She took up her sword and ran toward the battle and her future as head of the Solas Clan and ruler of Lunaris.

woman-360713_640 by Pixabay

Image by Pixabay.com

Word Count: 651 words

Criticism: General

If you would like to read some of the back story about Zenarra, here are links to the previous flash fiction stories:

The Arranged Marriage

Princess Zenarra

The Galaxy Trees