Friday Fictioneers – Ma

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

Ma

That was the year it snowed in September.

Ma stood at the back door, hugging her dressing gown around her shoulders.

“My, oh my, look at those roses – poor souls!”

She rummaged for her large scissors. A wisp of powdery snow crept in on the breeze from the door. Ma trotted down the garden path, slippers slapping, her bird-like ankles peeping from under her flannel nighty.

Some quick snips and she had seven stems, each carrying a beautiful, bronze-coloured bloom.

“We’ll soon have you indoors and looking your best,” she told them.

They looked fine in her crystal vase.

InLinkz – click here to join in!

Friday Fictioneers – Obsession

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 - Pedestal vases - Obsession 171101

PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Ann Hall

Obsession

As soon as her husband had left, Gwynneth was searching eBay. She typed in “pedestal vase”.

Her breath stopped.

Every curve was perfect. The colour was intense, highlighted with gold. “Sèvres, 1896” she read, and then “High bid £50”. She wondered how much she dared spend.

She had vases displayed on her marble shelf – and hidden under the bed – and in the loft. She cherished them all. But the Sèvres – she lusted after it.

Three days later, with thirty seconds to go, the high bid was £85. Gwynneth licked her dry lips, and bid £200.

…2 – 1 – End.

She’d won!