Friday Fictioneers – Close to the Wind

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 © Roger Bultot

Close to the Wind

“Gonna wipe you out today!” Sue grinned at Adrian in the next dinghy.

“Get away! Women can’t sail!”

The cannon boomed. The race was on.

A gentle breeze blessed the sapphire water of the estuary with diamond waves. Golden brown cattle grazed peacefully on the lush pasture of the south bank. Woods on the north bank perfumed the air with pine.

Two boats converged, too close, for the first turn.

“Keep away!” Sue yelled at Adrian, as he drew level on her windward side. Her dinghy shuddered as it lost speed.

“You bastard, you stole my wind!”

Adrian just laughed.

FFfAW – Two Tides

This is a story for the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. We are given a photo prompt that is kindly photographed by our participants and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. It’s fun and everyone is invited to participate. For more information, click here.

To read all the stories submitted for this challenge, click on the blue froggy button below.

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This week’s photo prompt is provided by Footy and Foodie. Thank you for our prompt!

Two tides

The estuary was wide, and the far shore was half-hidden by the molten gold of the setting sun. Heidi gazed across the water; such a beautiful place; so many happy memories; such heartache. Alan’s absence throbbed like an abscessed tooth. How could he have just walked out on her?

“Bastard,” she typed into her phone, thought a moment, then clicked ‘Send’.

She spent a restless night, missing his warmth, his smell, his gentle snoring. She was distracted the next day, missing his laugh, his strength, his irritating way of interrupting what she was saying.

He didn’t reply to her text.

Somehow, she drifted to the estuary again that evening. She was so wrapped up in memories that she didn’t notice his approach.

He faced her, dark-rimmed eyes apprehensive.

“I am so sorry,” he said.

Word count: 134

Friday Fictioneers – Trapped!

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 © Roger Bultot

Trapped!

Lee’s heart stammered and raced like the outboard motor of the dinghy carrying him to safety. The clean, dawn air was polluted by the stench of petrol and blood.

He’d almost given up. Donald had been late. Then the first greyness had lightened the eastern sky, and the man’s smirking face confronted him. The light had made it harder; it made it personal; but Lee had driven home the knife, twisting it savagely. Donald had struggled, retching out his life through clenched teeth.

There was a thud, and the boat stopped.

Hell! He was trapped by the falling tide!