Friday Fictioneers – A Boat Trip

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) TED STRUTZ

The boat trip

I snooped. I confess it. Was Marcus going on the boat trip? I get sea-sick and I wasn’t going to risk it if there was no hope of even a brief time together.

I followed him on board. But, oh dear, it was so windy, and the waves were choppy. Marcus leaned against the rail taking endless photographs.

‘Gosh, it’s breezy!’ I said.

‘Is it? I suppose it is.’

‘Do you fancy a coffee to warm up?’

His eyes focussed on me. He smiled, a friendly smile.

‘I’d enjoy that,’ he replied.

I swallowed, hard. Please, not seasickness – not now!

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Flash Fiction – Commitment

Commitment

The front door slams, jerking me to full awareness of my whisky hangover.

The place beside me is empty, the bedding cold. Angela’s suitcase and her yellow coat are gone.

How could I have been such a fool?

She had looked so lovely yesterday, blue eyes sparkling.

I lever myself out of bed, groan, pull on yesterday’s clothes. Perhaps I can catch her before she gets the bus to Manchester at 8 o’clock? The red roses I’d bought her reproach me from the floor.

Wincing, I jog; it’s the only way I’ll make it before she leaves. I take the stairs of an underpass two at a time, pounding feet offering a counterpoint to the litany of excuses in my aching head. Do I really fear commitment so much?

I barge through the crowds at the bus station.

07:59 A large man drops a large suitcase right in my path, and I stumble into it. “Oi! Watch where you’re going,” he snarls.

08:00 I look across the crush to the bay where her bus is waiting, and see a flash of yellow. She enters. The bus door closes and the bus starts to move.

Friday Fictioneers – The Singer

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 © DALE ROGERSON

The Singer

He would ask Anna out tonight, after the gig.

As Eddie made the decision, his hands shook and he fumbled the set-up of his keyboard,

The gig started. The band played brilliantly; the audience were on fire.

Anna’s voice thrilled him. That slight vibrato – so sexy! And when she dropped into the lower register…wow!

The lights dimmed. The music slowed, grew gentler. Anna was singing a ballad, backed only by Eddie’s keyboard. He felt as though she was singing for him alone.

Backstage after the gig, Anna called the group together.

“Let me introduce Phil, my new boyfriend,” she said.

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Friday Fictioneers – No Way Back

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 © DALE ROGERSON

No way back

The Christmas Market was in full swing. Anne glanced up from the savoury delights of the delicatessen and saw Charles. She stiffened and held her head high. She wasn’t going to approach him, not after last night.

Neither would she hide. She strutted past him, cutting him dead.

“Anne. Anne!”

The voice pursued her.

There was a flurry of feet, and there he was. She stopped.

“I’m sorry for last night, I really am. I was nervous. I drank too much…” He dropped to one knee. “Will you marry me, Anne?”

Anne fingered her bruised cheek.

“No way,” she said.

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Friday Fictioneers – One Tide

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!

FF - One Tide 200617

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

One Tide

Linda and Mark watched the waves pounding the sea-wall, hurling shingle across the promenade.

“I must go back,” sighed Linda.

Charlie, lying in his sick-bed, coughed. For a moment he was lucid. Linda could do better than Mark, he thought. Then the surging ocean carried him back sixty years to his first voyage in a three-master.

Linda looked at Charlie’s chest. Still breathing.

The sound of the surf faded. Charlie’s breathing became shallow.

Linda phoned Mark.

“I think he’s going. Will you come round?”

The couple sat hand in hand as Charlie’s tide ebbed.

“We can marry now,” said Linda.

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Friday Fictioneers – Taboo

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!

FF - Taboo - 200527

PHOTO PROMPT © DAVID STEWART

Taboo

Stephanie sat outside the cafe, enjoying the evening and yet grieving for what had been lost during lockdown – spontaneous embraces, laughter for no reason other than joie de vivre.

She saw Michel, and waved. It was such a shame that lockdown came just as they were getting to know each other. He smiled, walked across, and sat down.

“Aren’t we supposed…?”

“You don’t mind…?”

They spoke simultaneously, and smiled.

“Sorry…”

“I beg your…”

This time they laughed.

“Would you have dinner with me?” asked Michel, taking Stephanie’s hand.

Her smile said yes. Her breath came fast at his forbidden touch.

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What Pegman Saw – An unexpected treat

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. Using the 360 degree view of 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

WPS - An unexpected treat 200502

An unexpected treat

“Don’t worry – I’ll pay,” said Ricardo, firmly.

“But the Gingerbread Restaurant’s expensive!” Roseline opened her eyes very wide, and Ricardo kissed her.

“No problem.”

Roseline giggled when the starter came; the dish looked like a painting. Ricardo smiled, and stroked his fingers along the cornrows of her hair. “Would you like some wine?” he suggested.

The food was – interesting, Roseline decided.

As they ate dessert, Ricardo cleared his throat.

“I had my exam results last Thursday.”

“You never told me! Were they good?”

“I was top.”

“Oh, well done, Ricardo!”

“I have an internship at Clinica Union Medica del Norte.”

“But – that’s in the Dominican Republic…”

“I’ll phone. And text. If you want to, you can join me there when you’ve finished your studies.”

Roseline’s heart sank.

“Do you love me, Ricardo?”

“Yes. Yes, of course”.

“Then let’s get married.”

Ricardo stared at her, then grinned.

“Why not?” he said.

Friday Fictioneers – Paris

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!

FF - Paris in a tin can 200422

PHOTO PROMPT © C E Ayr

Paris

We were unpacking in our new apartment when I found the photograph.

“Do you remember giving me this?”

“How could I forget?” Jeremy stroked the nape of my neck, and I shivered.

The panoramic shot of Paris by night was stunning, but sadly the worse for wear. It was peeling from its mounting, and it carried a smell of mud from when we’d been flooded in Somerset.

We’d fought over it during our trial separation.

“I’m glad we’re back together,” I say as I move to the window. Jeremy takes my hand, and together we gaze over Paris by night.

Inlinkz – click to join in the fun!

Friday Fictioneers – The Passionate Collector

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!

FF - The Passionate Collector 200325

PHOTO PROMPT © Jeff Arnold

The Passionate Collector

“Of course, the old typewriter was Hemingway’s,” drawled Benson. He’d invited me in for a nightcap after our first date. “Look – you can see traces of blood on the keys.” As though absentmindedly, he half drained the glass of red wine he’d poured for me. “Screaming Eagle Cabernet 1992; an unbelievable vintage,” he murmured.

“At least it’s a bourgeois lamp,” I muttered under my breath.

“And the lamp,” continued Benson, relentlessly, “is the first prototype made for Louis Tiffany by Clara Driscoll.”

There was only one response I could make to Benson’s vulgar display of wealth.

Reader, I married him.

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What Pegman Saw – Some days are good

“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 Taunoa, French Polynesia.

WPS - Some days are good 200321

Some days are good

Some days are good, some bad. Paul was such a big part of my life. I sigh and put away the nail polish. I can’t be bothered. Perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered with a vacation either; September will always be tainted by the memory of those last days as Paul fought for life.

But I did bother, and it’s a pleasant resort, and a gal’s gotta eat. That waterfront fish restaurant tonight, I think, only I mustn’t feel melancholy as the sun sets.

“Bonsoir, Henri!”

“Madame!” Professionally charming. “We ‘ave lovely mullet tonight. ‘ere, I give you a seat by the water!”

The sky is azure, the light crystal sharp. It is a courageous sky.

I am so lost in my thoughts, that at first I don’t hear him.

“May I join you?”

Silver hair but unlined face, gentle and scholarly, a quiet smile.

I smile back.

“Please do.”

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