Friday Fictioneers – Broken Threads

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

Broken Threads

Martha squatted in the only room that was still intact in the derelict house. Even the druggies had gone, leaving behind their mess and their stink. Martha moaned as the muscles of her abdomen tightened.

The Loom of Creation faltered. The Creator fused broken threads together, working frantically to keep the weave continuous. A spindle of charcoal thread was empty. Consternation! He had no more of that colour! He seized the nearest spool and spliced in a gold thread.

Martha, exultant, hugged her flawless new-born to her breast. She rose up and walked to the hospital. Her child would live!

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What Pegman Saw – Ritual Offering

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. Using the location provided, you must write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words. 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 prompt is San Ignacio de Velasco, Bolivia

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San Ignacio de Velasco, © Google Maps

Ritual Offering

Nervous, I clasp my mother’s hand, for I am the youngest son who will offer the gift.

Our bonfire by the lake makes a circle of light in the blackness. Fat from the lamb roasting on its spit drips onto the embers, hissing and crackling in spurts of yellow flame.

“Viracocha sat in darkness, much darker than tonight.” My grandfather’s voice is quiet but strong.

“Viracocha wanted light, so he made the sun, the moon, and the stars.

He made giants, but they spent their days fighting and their nights in debauchery.

Viracocha was angry and caused a great flood to drown the giants.”

I glance apprehensively at the indigo waters of the lake.

“Viracocha made men. He teaches us to help each other and share our blessings.”

It’s time!

I hold out a plate. Grandfather carves lamb, and I offer it to our neighbours.

Viracocha’s blessings are for us all.