Flash Fiction

Smoke Messages

PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala


\Snap, crackle, pop. The fire breathes a life of its own. A connection between two worlds. A pit of messages from the dead to the living. If only they would turn on their senses. The deceased wait, patience the equivalent to thin ice. “Silly girl, don’t marry that slob!”

Jenny stares into the flame, lost in thought.

“Come on Jenny, it’s your hens night. Smile.”

Jenny forces her lips up and nods at her sister. Gathering herself, Jenny turns away from the heat. She pauses.

“Do you hear that?”

“What? Granny not wanting you to marry? She’s been nagging all night.”


(101 words)


Prompt provided by Friday Fictioneers

Other stories featuring the prompt can be found here

Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction: Boys

Aww, my head hurts. What day is it? Blah, furry tongue, I need mouth wash. Shit man why is there toilet paper everywhere? Who let the cats out? Is that puke I can smell? Eww, Dave that’s revolting. On my shirt. You better be wearing pants dude. Just good friends, but not that good. Click. Is that a camera? This better not end up on Facebook. What’s licking my feet? If I ignore it, it’ll go away. Same with my nagging bladder. Is there a bottle or cup around? Should sit up and work out where the hell I am. Last night… Think brain, think… Oh yeah. Boys night. Buzz, Buzz. Phone. It’s around here somewhere. Shut the bloody thing up, vibrates through my temples. There it is. Ugh, the light. Holy F- exam in 20 minutes. Must move. Damn it, what’s caved in on me? A sheet Why do I do this to myself – every single week?

“Dave wake up, we’ve got exams to supervise.”

(166 words)


This week’s photo prompt is provided by H.R.R. Gorman for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Find other stories using the prompt here

Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction: The Little Brother

“Screw you guys, I’m going home.”

Timmy pouted and stormed across the field. Never a good sport. The apple of mummy’s eye, wrong sat with the world, not him.

Behind Timmy’s back, Davy extended his middle finger and held his tongue. Anything said would be held against him in the court of adults. His brother the golden son. The youngest. Their mother constantly nagged Davy to play with snot. No one wanted to play with a spoiled dobber.

“Good ridden,” said their neighbour and Davy’s best mate as he kicked a soccer ball between his feet, “Lets go to mine before he comes back. I have a new X-box game.”

Mission accomplished. A fun afternoon without the brat. Their plan a success.


(122 words)


This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yinglan for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Other stories featuring the prompt can be found here


Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction: Lines

Silence. Water smothered their surroundings. A faint silver line separated the blue coming from the sky and the rippled liquid mirror. Sheila sighed, naked without her electronics. Her capturer refused to let her paddle, nothing to do but sit. The lack of personal space triggering anxiety. She could be on her X-box playing Mind Craft or on Snapchat showing off her new gold ankle bracelet. Instead, she suffered a slow torture. Screams would only echo. Death awaited. Her fingers fidgeted. What lies beneath the raft? Swimming monsters waiting to be fed?   

The man stopped paddling. Sheila’s heart pounded. No, it couldn’t be happening not after all her hard work.

“I’ll be good.”

Tears sprung and trickled along her cheeks. This is how it ends. Monster. He pulled a bag from between his feet and unzipped the zipper. His weight tilted the boat as he dumped the contents into nature’s bin; her laptop, mobile phone and gaming system clunked as they hit the barrier and sank.

“I warned you this would happen if you didn’t limit your screen time.”

Life over, Sheila vowed never to speak to her father again. Christmas changed her tune.

(195 Words)


This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yarnspinnerr for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Other stories using the prompt can be found here

Flash Fiction, Uncategorized

Flash Fiction: The Bench

Ice covered the bench just as it tombed Sarah’s heart. As the seasons changed her husband suffered an agonising death. Cancer. She nagged him for decades to give up the cigarettes.

“She’ll be alright, Sar, only live life once.”

Left behind she watched their young grandchildren grow alone. The once joyful backyard, home to bitter-sweet memories. The outdoor fire no longer burned.

Sarah’s granddaughter tugged at her hand and pulled her towards the door.

“I need to show you something.”

Rolling her eyes, Sarah followed Abby into the frigid air. Oh to be young again? To look at the world with wonder.

Abby ran through the snow laughing. She turned and beckoned Sarah to come closer. Not the bench, the love seat… Sarah loved the girl and couldn’t disappoint her. Abby brushed the snow off the bench seat.

“Grandpa wants you to sit and create new memories, he’ll always warm you in the snow.”

Her little granddaughter pointed to graffiti David carved into the wood; Sarah + David, an infinity symbol crossed through their names. For the first time, Sarah smiled.


(180 Words)

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yinglan for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Other stories using the prompt can be found here