Alone, (a short story). #writephoto

Photo provided by Sue Vincent at scvincent.com

No one knows where I am.  They’re probably saying I’m crazy.  That’s okay; I don’t expect most of them to understand.

I’m out here, all alone.  Miles away, on another continent.  The view is breathtakingly beautiful.  The sounds are inherently calming.  I don’t wake to an alarm; the slight hint of dawn and the chirping of birds is what wakes me every morning.

Chastity might understand.  Maybe one day I’ll go back for her.  Or maybe I won’t, if it could mean losing everything I have right now.

What I have now is freedom.  Like the gulls cawing above, I have freedom from my uncouth boss, freedom from bills, the mortgage, that ex-wife and her constant prying for alimony.  I have freedom from the stress.  The only thing I have to stress about now is what I’ll eat.  So far, I’ve been able to find a way, every time.  This is a life of survival, and I’m doing it.  I never thought I could give up that false security back home.  Now, I know it’s totally possible.

The beach breeze brings a pleasant, salty smell to the air.  Some days, I remind myself that the lack of a shower means a lack of interest–on my house, my credit cards, my car.  I let them repossess it, and the house went into foreclosure.  Some will say I was only trying to jilt my ex-wife, but they don’t see the larger monster that I needed to escape.

Money is what ruled me, and what was bound to kill me.  I was working non-stop, fueling myself with caffeine, Redbull and barbecue.  Now, I take my chances on a steep mountain or waking up in a hostel, not knowing if I’ll gather money to buy my next meal, but I am getting better day by day.  Instead of getting  heart disease, I will get leaner.

In a day or two, I’ll go to visit the monks on the next mountain.  I think they’ll agree with my decisions.  Learning to do without is really freeing.

 

 

*Every week, Sue Vincent posts a photo prompt and a challenge to fellow bloggers.  Directions are:  Use the image (below) as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT)  Wednesday 16th August and link back to this post with a pingback.

I invite you to visit the post on Sue Vincent’s blog at https://scvincent.com/2017/08/10/thursday-photo-prompt-alone-writephoto/

Friday Fictioneers. Phone Home!

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

I’d have to get stuck here, wouldn’t I?  All this time travel technology and I end up in a place that has no cell phone towers.  Lost.

This looks like a greasy burger joint, not a place I’d frequent, even forty years ago.

Somehow I have to get some help.  How can I summon Rickman?

Aha!  A pay phone.  We used to use these.  Let’s see.  I lift this up,  Ouch!  That’s loud! Beep. Beep.

“The phone at this location is temporarily out of service,”  a curt voice announces through the speaker.

The cell phone sits in my pocket, useless.

*100 words*

Friday Fictioneers opens on Friday and runs until the next Friday, when the next photo prompt is posted.  Please visit rochellewisoff.com for more Friday Fictioneers responses and info. on how you can submit your own Friday Fictioneers Flash fiction!  https://rochellewisoff.com/2017/07/26/28-july-2017/

 

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. “My Friend.”

Photo credit, (c) Louise at The Story Teller’s Abode

We’d been friends for many years.  That year, our families took a vacation together.  The sights were beautiful.

Michael was not sleeping.  He was constantly on the go.  His dad wouldn’t let him go alone for fear he’d not return, so I tried to keep up with him.  Once, his dad accompanied him, and they’d both come back angry.

I was tired.

It was sunrise.  He grasped my hand and raced us toward the water.  “A boat!  We’ll sail in a boat!”

He looked crestfallen as we saw that the tide was low.  Michael sat in the wet sand.  “I’m sorry.  I think I’m out of control.  I never asked what you want to do.”

I smiled.  “I want to sit still with you, and watch the tide come in.”

“Still my friend?”

“Yes, still friends, Michael.”

He put his arm around me and said, “Thank you for looking out for me.”

I sat pondering, knowing that someday I’d need my space, hoping he’d understand.

~The End~

 

165 words

A prompt photo will be provided each Monday pm to be used as a base to your story. Please include photo prompt with your story.

2. Linking for this challenge begins on Monday pm and runs to the following Monday pm.

3. Please credit photo to photographer.

4. The story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words). Please try and stay within this limit.

5. Please indicate the number of words in your story at the end of your story. (It doesn’t count into the amount of words).

6. This is a flash fiction challenge (stories in 100-175 words or less) and each story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. 

You can join the flash fiction fun at flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com

#FFfAW The Search Ends at Daylight

Footyphoto-20170619154627204

Finally, June found his car at a building in the Arts district, where warehouses and concrete were peppered here and there with trees.  She had almost given up, when she remembered a party they attended here months ago.

A few cars were parked outside, though no thriving business lived here.  Obviously, there’d been a party, though she no one mentioned it to her.  Apparently, a few people were unfit to drive home.  She shook her head.  Those two were no good for each other.

How could she keep Lori away from Jack?   It seemed near impossible.  They were both driving her mad, when she should be focusing on college applications and admissions essays.  She sighed and opened the door.

People were sprawled around on worn couches and a stale smell of smoke and spilled alcohol permeated the air.  Was that Lori in the back?

“Lori?  Jack?”  She called before thinking.  Of course, they’d be mad she didn’t call them by Mom and Dad.

*163 words.   Flash fiction for aspiring writers presents a new photo prompt weekly for writers to use as inspiration for a flash fiction story between 100-150 words, give or take 25.  It’s fun to see the different perspectives of the same image.  Photo credit must be given to the photographer, who, this week, is Foot and Foodie.  If you want to join up, look for a new prompt on Tuesday, and find the rules and instructions at the site.  Visit this past week’s challenge at:

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/06/19/fffaw-challenge-week-of-june-20-2017/

F is for Flash fiction. #AtoZChallenge #fffaw

FlashFictionApril3to5

Photo credit: Yarnspinnerr

“I shall dominate!  I am King of the Jungle!  Watch me swing fearlessly from branch to branch!”

“Just hurry up, Rory.  It should be my turn now!”

“I feel so free up here!  Look at it, Joe!”

“I am.  Now hurry up, and make sure you don’t land to the left.  Looks like a long drop!”

“I’ll bet you didn’t think my arms could hold out this long.  You’ll never last as long as me.  Did you check your watch?  I’m gonna time you when you get up here.  I’m gonna-”

**Crack**

“Ahhhhh!  Rory!  Help!”

**Crash**

“Ah, man, Joe, you didn’t!”

“Help, Rory!  Get an ambulance!  I think I broke my leg!”

~Pride cometh before the fall.~

Find out about this Flash Fiction challenge at https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/04/03/fffaw-challenge-week-of-april-4-2017/     A photo prompt is added every week.  Writers follow certain guidelines: Please include the photo prompt with your story and credit it to the photographer.  The story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words). Please try and stay within this limit.  Pingback to the challenge post in your story’s post.  Add your link to the InLinks button. See more at the website above!

 

#fridayfictioneers. “On Her Throne, She Waits.”

chairwaterfridayfictioneersmystery-chair-ted-strutz

Photo credit, (c) Ted Strutz

Ever the skeptic, Billy was only there to prove Roma wrong.

“What drunk left that there,” he’d asked, laughing.

“You haven’t heard the legend of the Lady of Larson’s Lake?”  Roma spoke in a mysterious tone.

“Um, no, but I guess you’ll tell me?”

“She sits there at midnight, waiting for her husband who drowned here when the lake was full and deep.  They say she’s beautiful.”

Billy shivered now, as a woman in a soiled ball gown with shimmering hair down to her mid-back walked out in the ankle-deep water and took her seat at the “throne.”  Waiting.

(c) Pamela Schloesser Canepa, 2017

Friday Fictioneers opens up every Friday with a Photo prompt to which you may write any sort of Fiction response.  It is flash fiction, so your response must be less than 100 words.  Check out other entries and more specifics at https://rochellewisoff.com/2017/02/08/10-february-2017/

#flashfiction FFfAW challenge. “Michael’s Fairies.”

flashfictionfaeiriesphoto-20170130154651135 Photo courtesy of Jessica Haines.

“Michael’s Fairies,”  (c) 2017

by Pamela Schloesser Canepa

“He wouldn’t come away from the puddles,” Ray complained.  “He kept seeing things in the water.  Fairies, unicorns, …”

“Kids and their imaginations,” I shrugged.  How could I explain?   Ray didn’t understand.  Michael saw things, and that was that.  The rain didn’t matter.

“What took you so long with the teacher?”

“Issues.” I shrugged, offering nothing more.  “Thanks for waiting, though.”

Ray dismissed it with a wave.  “Gotta go.”

Despite two years together, I knew he’d never grace my doorway with his presence again.  And did it matter?  He did not make the cut.

I closed the door.

“I’m sorry,” Michael whispered.

“Don’t you ever be sorry for being you, honey,” I said with a smile, because I knew that was all Michael had done.  In a few weeks, I’d find a way to explain Ray’s absence from our lives.

Michael put his arms around my neck, and I returned the hug.

 

***Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers presents a new photo prompt challenge every Tuesday, and the challenge is open until the next Monday at https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/

I encourage you to enter your own, or go to their site and check out some more stories!

*Stories must be 100-150 words.(+-25)