Challenges · Fiction · Three-Line Tales

Three Line Tales 15 – Cabin

week
photo by Nathan Dumlao via Unsplash

“A cabin,” she gasps, pulses thrumming as her mind freezes on a thought. “In the woods…”

He takes her hand in his, trying to quell her presumed hesitation. “You got me. You’re safe.”

The trees do little to shield them from moonlight, but do well to mask his screams when she starts feasting on him a week into her unplanned, but perfectly timed hibernation.

———-
*Inspired by the photo prompt above for Week 296 of the Three Line Tales Challenge @ Only 100 Words.

Challenges · Fiction · Three-Line Tales

Three Line Tales 14 – Booth

week 295
photo by Jan Antonin Kolar via Unsplash

She should’ve known things were about to go awry when the photo booth started to talk like it knew what it was talking about—

“Excuse me, I’m your what?!” she gasped, confusion quickly turning into panic, shooting right up into a slew of pained and horrified screams as the metal walls began to twist, to screech, to crunch.

“Aaah, feisty,” the photo booth trilled amidst the bloody ruckus of its late night dinner. “Bon appétit!”

———-
*Inspired by the photo prompt above for Week 295 of the Three Line Tales Challenge @ Only 100 Words.

Challenges · Drabble · Fiction

070 – Spare

Photo by Daisa TJ on Pexels.com

He sees the world through bubbles and glass. Breathes air rationed through a mask cupped to his face. His limbs, when he did have them, have always been bound by wires from sources he couldn’t see.

“He’s just fully grown his right leg, Mrs. West,” the familiar garbled voice of a man says. “But his right eye is ready for harvesting.”

A woman’s exclamations of joy fill the room.

But nobody ever tosses a word of gratitude to him—

The human freakshow stuck in a vat of fluid, regrowing and losing body parts to fill up the incompleteness of strangers.

———-
*Inspired by the prompt flawed from The Daily Post.

Challenges · Drabble · Fiction

069 – Sean

blue blur color dark
Photo by Blaque X on Pexels.com

Sean knew he shouldn’t keep the telly open well past bedtime But he couldn’t help it. He also did not regret it.

“That stupid movie again?” his brother grumbled under a clump of moss.

“Shut up,’ he hissed back, not blinking. Never taking his eyes off the scene.

Even with the movie muted, the now familiar cacophony of human screams filled Sean’s head as the windy funnel took the school bus off the road and threw it like a weightless rock to the sea.

It was the biggest shark-fest in movie history.

And Sean loved every bloody second of it.

———-
*Inspired by the prompt hate to love  from The Daily Post.

Challenges · Drabble · Fiction

068 – Cake

blur bread breakfast cake
Photo by karthik reddy on Pexels.com

The intruders were young, barely teenagers.

They were sprawled on the carpet, watching cartoons while eating his cake.

He’d tell them to leave, if he weren’t too worried about upsetting Sally again.

Sally hated it when he treated her guests unkindly.

Even when they were rude and were eating his cake!

He had been hoping to dig into that sugary treat tonight. He’d even practiced his fridge opening technique, too—!

“Dad!” Sally called out. “Your stupid old dog’s home! I think he wants to eat my friends!”

They laughed.

But if they weren’t too skinny, he’d seriously be considering it.

———-
*Inspired by the prompt unexpected guests  from The Daily Post.

Challenges · Drabble · Fiction

065 – Accident

blue and yellow flame painting
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The lab took Daddy away in a burst of flames.

It was an accident, Mommy told everyone.

Old chemist tinkering with new ideas, resulting in bad chemicals colliding…

But the sadness in her eyes did not fool Sophie.

Sophie was down there, too. She saw everything through a slit in a forgotten closet.

The old chemist was Daddy. The new idea, his assistant. And the bad chemicals were them and Mommy colliding in a burst of tempers, betrayal and threats of death.

Sophie had never left Mommy’s side.

She hated Mommy for leaving her there.

Mommy didn’t even feel sorry.

———-
*Inspired by the prompt 10,000 spoons  from The Daily Post.

Challenges · Drabble · Fiction

064 – Crowd

pexels-photo-1148998.jpeg
Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Pexels.com

The painting moves!, the little girl would often say.

It was only kooky Aunt Elsa who believed her. Everybody else thought it was just a phase.

But Aunt Elsa knew better—

The little girl had always been Grandpa’s favorite.

Not even the locks on the dead man’s old room, where the painting hang, could keep him from taking what was his.

So when the little girl finally disappeared, it was only Aunt Elsa who knew why.

She could see them—

A grinning old man and a scared little girl, blending in with the otherwise vibrant colors of The Marketplace crowd.

———-
*Inspired by the prompt the artist’s eye  from The Daily Post.

Bite-sized Tales · Challenges · Fiction · Weekend Writing Prompt

Weekend Writing Prompt #1 – Haven

Here’s a new challenge I’m trying out hosted @ sammiscribbles


prompt 126


……her weary soul finds solace in
……..a corner of that old house
………void of the town’s petty grievances and
……….explosive tempers that ate away at her sanity
….when she was still alive.

———-
*Inspired by the prompt Haven from the Weekend Writing Prompt challenge @ sammiscribbles.

Challenges · Fiction · Six Sentence Story

#SixSentenceStories 1 – Wave

Here’s another challenge I’m trying out hosted @ GirlieOnTheEdge


woman wearing a white and black dress
Photo by Hoang Loc on Pexels.com

A wave goodbye was the last thing they shared before she went her way and he just stood there watching.

It’s been a decade since and he still thinks about that day, Should he have stopped her, would she have stayed?

She tells him to stop acting like he cared and he tells her to please get out of his head.

A scream jolts him out of his thoughts—a phantom echo, a recurring nightmare engulfing him even in wakefulness.

She never got to scream then.

Strange that it’s all he hears now instead of the deafening explosion that turned her car into useless scraps, and her into a vengeful memory haunting his conscience for the rest of his life.

———-
*Inspired by the prompt Wave from the #SixSentenceStories Challenge @ GirlieOnTheEdge.

Challenges · Drabble · Fiction

Prosery #1 – Chop

I found a new flash fiction writing challenge, hosted by dVerse Poets Pub. 😊


food knife dill chopped
Photo by Tookapic on Pexels.com

The beat of knife on chopping board—
Chop chop chop, it goes.
A soothing dance of steel on wood. Wood on steel.
Focusing mind on task.

When far away an interrupted cry cuts through measured rhythm…

Lucy closes her eyes, takes a breath.
Nose, heart, veins quivering from a burst of reality.

Freedom…
Sweet and metallic, dripping from the crimson potion on her hands.
Thick soup. Coppery stew.
Full-bodied stock of life.

Chop.
Chop—

Eyes snap open. A hand flicks up to rub a passing itch.
Warm potion now on cheek.
Cheek throbbing from latest proof of love.

Chop.
Chop.
Cho…p—

Another cry…

A smile tugs at swollen lips.
Beat of steel on wood.

“I’m sorry honey.”
Soothing.

“I’ll be a little late with dinner tonight…”
Focused.

Even when separated from the rest of him,
Hugh’s hands are still so tough.

Chop.
Chop.
Chop—

———-
*Inspired by the prompt “When far away an interrupted cry”  from Prosery Challenge @ dVerse Poets Pub.