Abuse

Friday Fictioneers – Spring

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 on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

Spring

In this place, this tranquil place, this sun-warmed niche of brilliant colour and delicate fragrance, I can start to forget his coldness, his fault-finding, his vicious silences.

I can believe once again that a man might smile at me for pleasure, with laughter and delight; that he might hold me with tenderness. I can hope, perhaps, for truthfulness and openness – even, dare I wonder? – for love.

In this place, this tranquil place, this place of gentle birdsong and sweet, moist earth, I feel the dry seed of my spirit swell and quicken to meet the spring.

Inlinkz – click here to join the fun

Friday Fictioneers – Stone Walls etc.

Stone walls etc.

With stealthy violence, the plant grew through the wrought-iron railings. Its tendrils insinuated themselves into cracks in the wall. Its leaves bathed in the sun. The plant grew and became strong.

* * *

Marriage to Benson had been fun at first. It was entertaining playing up to the bragging about his possessions, especially Hemingway’s typewriter; ‘See – Hemingway’s blood on the keys!’

But nothing lasts for ever, and yesterday I told him I was leaving. I hadn’t expected the fury of his reaction. Nevertheless, battered and bruised, I left. Even iron bars can’t imprison a flower.

Inlinkz – click here to join the fun!

* * *

This story draws on one I wrote in March 2020, ‘The Passionate Collector’ but it stands alone. Anybody interested can follow the link below.

The Passionate Collector

Friday Fictioneers – Reading Club

Reading Club

Every Tuesday, after school, we have reading club in the library. It’s warm and peaceful there. I like the colours of the room; they make me feel safe.

Miss Robinson reads to us. When the story gets exciting, her voice goes all squeaky and she jumps about like a kangaroo. I just try to sit quietly at the back, reading my own book.

I wish we had reading club every night.

I wish it went on longer.

I hope Dad’s not drunk tonight.

Inlinkz – click here to join the fun!

Friday Fictioneers – Down the Drain

PHOTO PROMPT © J HARDY CARROLL

Down the drain

I had packed my things carefully into my locker when Myers from Personnel materialised.

“Okay. Open it.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“I think you should tell me why.”

“We can do this the easy way, or I can call in the factory manager. Your choice.”

I fumbled the key, dropped it. Myers clicked his tongue against his teeth. I opened the locker.

Myers rummaged behind my clothes and pulled out a flask of bourbon. We both looked at it, then he poured away the liquor.

The heady fumes tormented me.

“You’ve no right…” I began.

“Next time you’ll be fired.”

Inlinkz – click here to join in the fun!

What Pegman Saw – Stone walls and iron bars

“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 Portmeirion, North Wales, a place I know well. The prompt doesn’t mention this, but the village is on an estuary, and there are places from which you can see the sea.

Stone walls and iron bars

“Not that outfit, Michelle. You look like a tart.”

“But you liked it yesterday, Mark.” Her voice trailed away as he glared.

“Yesterday we were in Porthmadog; today we’re going to Portmeirion. It’s elegant; a model Italianate village.”

Michelle changed into her blue dress. Mark assessed her and gave a curt nod of approval.

“You drive, I’ll navigate,” he said, tossing her the car-keys. “You’d only lose us.”

The keys tinkled to the floor. “I should have handed them to you,” sighed Mark. “I know you can’t catch.”

Michelle’s cheeks burned. “I’m sorry I’m so useless,” she said.

When they arrived, Michelle concentrated hard and reverse parked neatly.

“Not bad,” commented Mark, giving her a tight smile of approval.

As they strolled past tumbling flowers, a decorative pond, a campanile, he luxuriated in his control of her; while she gazed beyond the prettiness to the sea, and dreamed of freedom.

Friday Fictioneers – “Hullo, Mr Spider”

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!

FF - Hullo Mr Spider 180110

“Hullo Mr Spider”

I bash the alarm clock.

Wow! That’s a big ol’ spider on the window!

“Hullo, Mr Spider.”

Any bread in the kitchen? I shift the heap of dirty plates. Nah, course not.

Telly’s on in the lounge. Mum’s wrapped up in her duvet on the floor, snorin’. Been drinkin’ vodka, I ‘spect. I open the curtains, but she don’t stir. I nick some of her takeaway. Not bad, but too spicy.

I wish she’d wash me shirt. I hate goin’ to school smelly, and gettin’ laughed at.

It’s quarter past eight – I gotta get the bus to school.

“Bye-bye, Spidey!”

Autumn Leaves