Friday Fictioneers – Lost Love

I’m sorry to have posted and read so little recently – I am making a determined effort to finish the first draft of my novel (which was originally inspired by a Friday Fictioneers prompt). You probably won’t see much of me for another month or so, but I couldn’t resist Sandra’s evocative picture today!

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

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PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Lost Love

Here, between the indigo shades of night and the pearl-bright morning, between the sky and the falling tide, here she sat, where once she had sat with him, had kissed him, had fallen in love. She sat and listened to the hiss of the waves as they greedily wrestled shingle from the land, she listened to the whisper of a calving glacier, when a million tons of Greenland ice had shattered the sea, she listened to the echo of Krakatoa, whose eruption had rung the earth like a gong.

Her spaniel nuzzled her fingertips, and she sighed.

War is terrible.

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What Pegman Saw – A Question of Identity

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s location is Tbilisi, Georgia.

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A Question of Identity

“Remember, tell no-one about our guests.” Fatima’s father clutched her arm.

Fatima picked up her motorcycle helmet. “You can rely on me, Papa,” she replied.

Aleksandre was waiting for her in the market. He pointed at her hijab.

“I don’t know why you wear that thing. It’s hardly for modesty, is it? You’re wearing make-up for goodness sake!”

Fatima looked at the ground.

“Maybe using make-up is a sin, but you know I only do it to please you, husband-to-be.”

“I don’t like you wearing hijab. It demeans Mother Georgia. It’s halfway to treason!”

“Aleks, dearest, I would betray my faith if I didn’t wear it.”

Aleksandre scowled, so Fatima said, “Come, I’ll treat us to coffee before I do my shopping.”

Later, as she hurried home, she thought of Aliya’s young family, refugees from Syria, and rejoiced that the global reach of the ummah had brought them safe to Tbilisi.

 

 

Friday Fictioneers – Sacrifice – Survival

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

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PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

Sacrifice – Survival

The leaf-stalks, the arteries of the tree, became choked, losing their strength just as the autumn gales blew fiercer. Desiccated leaves clattered in great drifts, leaving the gnarled limbs and wrinkled bark of the tree facing the onrushing fury of winter naked, without protection. Sap sank back into the branches.

A persistent east wind hardened the cold. The tree pulled its sap back deeper, sacrificing more and more of the tightly-wrapped packets of new leaves. It was a killing winter, set to split a tree and bring it down.

Spring came late that year, and the leaves were few.

 

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