#1MinFiction – Sammy’s First Christmas

I run in the house and make a bee-line for Mom.  She’s standing in the middle of the room and I almost knock her over in my enthusiasm.  She laughs, which encourages me to jump up and lap my tongue against her face.

“Sammy, down!”

I plop down and glance back up just to make sure she isn’t really mad.  It’s then I notice the smell.  It’s the woods, but it’s in the house.  I glance up at Mom and turn my head to the side, confused.

“What is it, Sammy?”

I start following the smell and finally find it.  What are the woods doing in the house?

“It’s the Christmas tree.  What do you think, girl?”

I sniff and continue moving closer and closer.  I try to resist, but honestly, the humans must know what happens in the woods.  My leg lifts.

“Sammy!  No!”

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#1MinFiction is brought to us by Nortina at Lovely Curses.  Please feel free to click the link and join in the fun.

Admission time… this was not written in one minute.  I think I need more practice in order to do it, but I did try and will keep trying.

For other Sammy stories, click here.

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Sunday Photo Fiction (on Monday) – Target Practice

© Dawn Miller

Staring down the barrel, I spot the china cups, pausing on each one to take a deep breath in through my nose and slowly blow it out through my mouth.

Too easy.

I take a few steps back and repeat the process, this time adding the additional target. The excitement builds in my gut and almost explodes out my fingertips. Shit! I almost pull the trigger, but I pull up just in time. The anticipation just might kill me, but it’s oh so sweet.

The air around me is still and I hear a bird singing in the trees above me. I can’t help but think it’s the perfect afternoon. I walk back to the table to take a sip of the tea I brewed earlier. It’s cooled down now, but it still manages to calm the blood that seems to be pulsing through my veins.

I hear a strange rustling and look up. The woman tied to the trellis next to the line of china cups is squirming. I can’t imagine why. The blindfold is still in place.

Smiling, I slowly place the cup on the table and pick up the gun.

Let the entertainment begin.

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The rules for Sunday Photo Fiction are to create a story or poem using around 200 words with the photo as a guide, although it doesn’t have to be center stage.  This one comes in at 198 words.

Click the blue froggy link to read other amazing stories!

Happy Monday!

Friday Fictioneers – The Scene of the Crime

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“Was this door open or closed when you came in here?” Detective James asked his partner.

“I… Um, I don’t remember.”

James ground his teeth and clenched his fists.  “Get out,” he finally whispered.

“But… you can’t! I mean, you don’t have the authority… Do you?”

James took a step forward, but shook his head and stopped. More violence wasn’t worth it. “You screwed up the last crime scene and now a murderer is walking the streets.  I don’t give a shit who you’re related to, I’ll make sure you never work in this town again. Now, get out!”

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Friday Fictioneers is a weekly flash fiction prompt where we are given a photo and asked to write a 100 word story – beginning, middle and end.  This one came in at 99 words.

Click on the blue froggy to read other amazing 100-word stories!

Sunday Photo Fiction – The Waking Dream

© A Mixed Bag 2009

“I saw that face again,” Jon remarked to his roommate.

“What, like in here?” Andy didn’t look up from his computer.

“No, it was a dream. But still…”

Andy kept playing his game and after a few minutes, Jon sighed and walked away.

**

As Jon drove home, he couldn’t stop yawning. He’d stayed longer than he was scheduled and he was drained. It didn’t help that he wasn’t sleeping.

He came to a stop at the next red light and started awake two seconds later. He looked up, grateful to see that the light was green. He pressed on the accelerator, but just as he pulled forward, he saw the face again. It was on the corner of the street, its body enveloped in darkness.

Jon slammed on his breaks, his heart pounding in his ears. When he looked again, it was gone.

**

Hunched in the corner of the interrogation room, Jon kept his arms folded and his mouth shut. He knew that if he told them, they were sure to lock him up forever.

The wispy voice rang in his ears, taunting him. The face hovered two inches in front of him.

“Kill them, Jon. Kill them all.”

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The rules for Sunday Photo Fiction are to create a story/poem or something using around 200 words with the photo as a guide, although it doesn’t have to be center stage.  This one comes in at 201 words.

 

Click the blue froggy link to read other amazing stories!

Happy Sunday!

Friday Fictioneers – That One Call

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

One phone call.

I suppose most people have at least one special person in mind, so they eagerly reach for the phone and that connection that means they’re still sane.

Not me.

I realize as soon as I see the payphone that I made my choice hours ago and instead of reaching for the receiver, I turn to the officer and shake my head.  He leads me back to the holding cell in silence, leaving me to my thoughts.

I can’t imagine I’m the worst they’ve seen.  Although, if it weren’t for the savagery my father had inflicted on us, I’d probably think what I’d done to him was horrific too.

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Friday Fictioneers is a weekly flash fiction prompt where we are given a photo and asked to write a 100 word story – beginning, middle and end.  This one came in at 116 words.

Click on the blue froggy to read other amazing 100-word stories!

Sunday Photo Fiction – The Town Bogeyman

© Mike Vore

“Don’t be such a scaredy cat, Lily!” Amber called to her friend who was at least twenty feet behind her and Debbie.

“Can you blame her?” Debbie said.

“Oh, not you too! “ Amber stopped in the middle of the road and placed her hands on her hips.  “Should we just turn back, then?”

Debbie stopped, turned back to look at Lily who was just catching up, and gnawed on a fingernail.  “I don’t know.  It’s late and…”

“…and after those stories you told, who wouldn’t be freaked?” Lily finished for Debbie.

Amber laughed.  “Guys, they were made up!”

**

The sky was just beginning to show signs of daybreak when they made it to the house.  Boarded up, overgrown with weeds, it had become the town bogeyman.  Amber was the first to walk up the stairs.

“What was that?” Lily’s voice caught in her throat and she came to a sudden halt at the bottom of the stairs.

“It was the stairs, dummy.  They’re old.”  Amber rolled her eyes and walked up to the window.  Just as she placed her hands on the slit between the boards, an ear-shattering scream blasted the silence.

Amber didn’t think, she ran.  Tripping down the stairs, she landed on her butt, but was up again and racing for home before her friends could react.

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The rules for Sunday Photo Fiction are to create a story/poem or something using around 200 words with the photo as a guide, although it doesn’t have to be center stage.  This one comes in at 221 words.

Click the blue froggy link to read other amazing stories!

Happy Sunday!

Friday Fictioneers – The Glass Jar

PHOTO PROMPT © Janet Webb

Magdalena heard laughter coming from the library.  “Rayna, what are you laughing at?” she asked her five year old daughter as she stepped into the room.

Rayna’s eyes got big and she pointed to the glass jar by the window.  “It’s Jordan, Mama.  He makes me laugh.”

Magdalena walked over and peered into the glass.  “Who’s Jordan, sweetie?”

“He’s my friend.”

Magdalena smiled at her daughter, realizing Jordan must be imaginary, but when she looked again, she took a step back as her breath caught in her throat.

Leaning against the small glass jar was a tiny boy, peering out into the room.

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Friday Fictioneers is a weekly flash fiction prompt where we are given a photo and asked to write a 100 word story – beginning, middle and end.  This one came in at 103 words.

Click on the blue froggy to read other amazing 100-word stories!

Sunday Photo Fiction – The Dragon’s Birth

© A Mixed Bag 2011

“Princess, what are you hiding behind your back?”

Amyris could never keep anything from her Governess, that much was certain.  “You can’t make me tell,” she yelled.  She turned and ran to her chamber, banging the door shut behind her.  Sometimes her willfulness worked, but not today.  Lady Ella was right behind her, demanding the truth.

“Promise you won’t tell?”  Amyris asked with tears in her eyes.

“As you wish,” Lady Ella acknowledged as she sat down on the bed beside Amyris.  She gasped when she saw the item her charge held gently in her hands. “A dragon’s egg,” she whispered.

“Truly?” Amyris asked.  “Oh, how lovely!”

****

On her fifteenth name day, devastation rained.  Traitors attacked the castle and set fire to her tower.  She was in the bailey when the fire broke out, but she ran towards the tower only to be waylaid by her guards.

“You can’t go in there Princess.  All is lost.”

“No!” she screamed and sank to the ground.  “You don’t understand,” she whispered.

It was dawn before she moved again, and as she slowly made her way towards the rubble, she heard screeching cries that she first mistook for crows.  She soon realized that it was no crow making the strange noise and her life forever after was altered.

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The rules for Sunday Photo Fiction are to create a story/poem or something using around 200 words with the photo as a guide, although it doesn’t have to be center stage.  This one comes in at 216 words.

 

Click the blue froggy link to read other amazing stories!

Happy Sunday!

Sunday Photo Fiction – Wrong

© Eric Wicklund

am i bad?

It’s the mantra that plays over and over again in my head, but it isn’t long before it turns into something else.

i am bad!

The realization happens slowly and roots itself deep in my gut.  Everything validates the truth – I like it, even though I know it’s wrong; he loves me; I would do anything for him so why not this?

I saw him once with Jane.  It makes me sad, but not in a “this is wrong” sort of way.  It’s more a jealous sort of way.  Am I not enough?  What do I need to do to keep him?  It makes me try desperately harder to do the things he asks of me even though I know it’s wrong.

i am bad!

He decides to come clean first because he’s better than me.  I would have kept his secret forever.

i am bad!

Mama asks me if it’s true – “Is he hurting you?”  She asks as though it’s an easy question to answer.

Does it hurt?

No.

i am bad!

So I keep silent, but everyone knows the truth and i am bad! changes to i’m so ashamed.

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The rules for Sunday Photo Fiction are to create a story/poem or something using around 200 words with the photo as a guide, although it doesn’t have to be center stage.  This dark tale comes in at 196 words.

Click the blue froggy link to read other amazing stories!

Happy Sunday!

Friday Fictioneers – The Forgetting

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“Dad, what happened to the car?”

“Lucas!  How are you, my son?  It’s so good to see you!”

“Dad, the car?”

Lucas watched his father’s eyes, searching for any sign that he would try and cover up the truth, but all he saw was an innocent joy.

“I’m sorry Lucas, but I don’t know what you mean.”

“Dad, you took the car today, remember?  You went to the store.  Did you hit something?”

His dad’s filmy blue eyes took on a puzzled look.  “Lucas, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.  I’ve been here all day.”

Lucas realized, probably too late, that his dad’s driving days were over.

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Friday Fictioneers is a weekly flash fiction prompt where we are given a photo and asked to write a 100 word story – beginning, middle and end.  This one came in at 109 words.

Click on the blue froggy to read other amazing 100-word stories!