Friday Fictioneers – Compulsion

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!

PHOTO PROMPT (C) DAVID STEWART

Compulsion

Go on.

Have a fried egg. Just one won’t kill you.

I glare at the laptop. I must write.

One fried egg and a rasher of bacon.

No!

I write two pages and make coffee.

Two eggs, bacon and a tomato. Tomato’s healthy.

I fight the cravings all day, then go to bed.

Thirty minutes later, I get up.

Bacon. Six rashers under the grill.

Two eggs…I look at the box. There are five eggs. What the heck…I take them all.

My plate is piled high and Cameron, my husband, walks in.

‘Oh, Penny…’

‘I’m sorry, so sorry,’ I weep.

Inlinkz – click here to join the fun!

Friday Fictioneers – The Wrong Shape

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 - Self Image 180711

PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young

The Wrong Shape

I watch the slow, steady drip from the bag into the cannula in my arm.

I know what’s in it; saline and glucose in water. Calories. My counsellor told me before the nurse inserted the needle.

I struggle with fear; fear of being fat; fear of food.

(I could, so easily, turn off the dripping calories)

I used to lie about my exercise habit, my non-existent periods, my days without food.

(Turn off the drip)

I don’t want to see my family.

(Turn off the drip)

I watch the slow, steady drip. That’s my life.

I’m frightened. Hold my hand.

Mother love

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story 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. This story complements the one I published last Wednesday

FF - A strange place for a theophany 170816

Photoprompt © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Mother love

“I’m worried about Deborah. I want to visit her today.” Jennifer tugged the silken peignoir tighter around her bony shoulders.

Charles sighed.

“She has to grow up sometime, darling.”

“You know she doesn’t always eat properly.”

It was only a fifty mile drive.

The lift was broken, so they had four flights of stairs to climb. Jennifer wrinkled her nose at the smell outside her daughter’s flat.

Deborah, stick-thin, in crumpled clothes and with matted hair, opened the door and peered out. She had a look of exaltation, which swiftly faded.

“Mum! You know I don’t like you coming here!”