Sarah Ann Hall

Flash fiction, progress on WIPs, and the occasional excuse for not writing anything.

#FridayFictioneers – 12/12/14 – Brotherly Love

with 20 comments

Every Wednesday Rochelle Wisoff-Fields publishes a photo prompt to inspire writers to write 100-words of flash fiction or poetry.

At any point during the following week, the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Read the other stories by clicking below.

(I don’t know why the frog has changed his icon, but at least he does appear.)

 

Many thanks to Rochelle for hosting and to Sandra for this week’s photo.

Last week’s prompt and story are still dancing disunitedly in my head. Hopefully, they’ll come together soon.

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT - Copyright - Sandra Crook

Copyright – Sandra Crook

 

Brotherly Love

(Genre: General fiction/ misery lit.; 100-words)

‘I –’ can’t do this. ‘I –’ am a worthless piece of shit. ‘It –’ What am I doing here? ‘It –’

‘Karl, we have time. You can say as much or as little as you need.’

Paternal, caring. Large smooth hands. He’s never done a day’s manual labour in his life. Does that matter?

‘I –’ can’t say it.

His gaze is intent but not threatening. He cares without pretence. I can’t trust him, anyone. Everyone lies.

‘It –’

How can he sit so still? He makes me want to fidget. I need to leave.

‘I –’ must go. Must – ‘It started when I was six.’

 

Friday Fictioneers

Written by Sarah Ann

December 12, 2014 at 1:42 pm

#FridayFictioneers – 28/11/14 – War’s End

with 25 comments

Every Wednesday Rochelle Wisoff-Fields publishes a photo prompt to inspire writers to write 100-words of flash fiction or poetry.

At any point during the following week, the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Read the other stories by clicking below.

 

It’s almost time for this Friday’s prompt I’m so late, but this story hasn’t left me alone, not that I think it works well enough. Some vital ingredient is missing.

 

Copyright- Randy Mazie

Copyright- Randy Mazie

 

War’s End

(Genre: Post-apocalyptic, 100-wods)

When the conflagration ended, one building remained untouched.

‘What’s in there?’ the boy asked.

‘Books full of learning; the key to building a better future.’

On the other side of the square a fired burned, men tore at spines, scattered pages.

‘What are they burning?’

‘Not all knowledge is good,’ the elder sighed. ‘We will never speak of what’s done. We must destroy all references to it so that those who come after cannot follow our example.’

The boy moved closer to the pyre, studied the partial titles: – Armaments, Modern Wa-

‘What is – ’

‘What you don’t know cannot hurt you.’

 

Friday Fictioneers

 

Written by Sarah Ann

December 2, 2014 at 12:38 pm

#FridayFictioneers – 21/11/14 – Ghost Town

with 35 comments

Every Wednesday Rochelle Wisoff-Fields publishes a photo prompt to inspire writers to write 100-words of flash fiction or poetry.

At any point during the following week, the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Read the other stories by clicking below.

Claire Fuller (7)

Copyright – Claire Fuller

 

Ghost Town

(General Fiction; 100-words)

The garage closing spelled the end for the village. With nowhere to buy last minute birthday flowers, or emergency breakfast bread, the place died. With nowhere worth walking to, people stopped passing on the street and sharing cheery hellos. Soon, the residents moved to town, where access to shops was easy, but speaking to neighbours frowned upon.

Within months the village was deserted. Within a few more it was alive again, as rampaging vines clung to crumbling brickwork, buddleia pushed through tarmac, and dandelions shone.

People visit now on Sundays, to revel in nature’s glory, picnic, and talk to strangers.

Friday Fictioneers

Written by Sarah Ann

November 21, 2014 at 12:04 pm

Lost Buoyancy – #gargleblaster188

with 18 comments

 

Neck deep in a flood of grief, every storm threatened to swamp her.

Friends and family supported her in treading water, before eventually drifting away.

Grey skies continued to pour, until one day the sun flared, and she realised she must swim.

 




 

Written by Sarah Ann

November 19, 2014 at 7:58 pm

#FridayFictioneers – 14/11/14 – The Morning After

with 33 comments

Every Wednesday Rochelle Wisoff-Fields publishes a photo prompt to inspire writers to write 100-words of flash fiction or poetry.

At any point during the following week, the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Read the other stories by clicking below.

 

The cars just didn’t do it for my muse last week. I tried to coerce her, but my thoughts and hers would not entwine. She’s a little more cooperative this week, but not much, hence my lateness. And I’m not sure this piece ends, although it has a beginning and a (too long?) middle.

Thank you twice to Rochelle this week – once for hosting and once for her photo below.

 

Copyright - Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

The Morning After

(General fiction; 100-words)

I wake in the gutter, alone. I don’t remember my name.

Helluva night.

I feel about – fingers and face intact; wallet in pocket.

Helluva good night. Apart from the name thing. And not knowing where I am.

I walk to a main street, scan up, down. Nothing familiar, but the air smells right – warm and salty.

I turn left, because I must choose. Meandering, looking about, no one stares back.

The babble of voices floats past, an odd word catching my ear.

I taste baking seaweed on the breeze and know home is here. Words and names will come later.

 

Friday Fictioneers

 

 

 

Written by Sarah Ann

November 15, 2014 at 3:32 pm

Intergalactic SMS – #gargleblaster186

with 20 comments

 

Captain Zilla had been away two years with Space Patrol before receiving a distress signal from a neighbourhood ally.

Approaching the beacon’s location, the team found a message carved into the planet’s surface. All agreed it emanated from Zilla’s husband:

 COME HOME!




 

Written by Sarah Ann

November 5, 2014 at 10:13 pm

#FridayFictioneers Revisited

with 6 comments

My stories for the last two Friday Fictioneer prompts have generated confusion about content (Daisy and Jack) and helpful comments on how to improve (Waiting and Longing). Here are my attempts at addressing the issues raised.

 

Waiting and Longing #2

(Romantic fiction of 100-words)

Jess scanned the grey lake reflecting leaden sky. She checked her phone. 10am – the bench, Tom’s text read. She knew she’d been early but, at twenty past, was he coming?

Late and panicking thanks to traffic, Tom bounced down the path. In the distance the lake shimmered, mirroring fluffs of cloud in the bright sky.

A clash and clatter of stones caused Jess to turn. A scuffle perhaps?

Tom’s hasty descent kicked up a waterfall of scree.

As he steadied himself, Jess’s unease fled and her lips twitched a smile. Tom grinned, his mouth as inviting as his welcoming arms.

 

With thanks to Claire Fuller  for identifying where change was needed and Janet Webb for suggesting an alternative line. Of course, one change inevitably meant more changes had to be made …

*****

 

The whole concept of Daisy and Jack was lodged firmly in my head and not on the screen, so here is a version more in line with what I wanted to convey.

 

Autumn Departures

(General fiction, 100-words, formerly titled Daisy and Jack)

Jesse wiped the empty courtyard table, again. The old couple always arrived promptly. They’d spent the past six months working their way through the menu, even occasionally asked the chef to make minor adjustments. Something must have happened for them to be so late.

Back inside he raised his concern.

‘Jack and Daisy?’ his boss replied. ‘Oh they’re okay. They come to eat outside and watch the world rush by. They’ll be back in spring when the sun and people start cavorting about again.’

Relief spread like a warm glow as Jesse considered his own grandparents’ and their retirement habits.

 

***

 

And here’s a version for Russell Gayer who gave me a first line to work from.

 

Chair Chat

(Anthropomorphic humour, 100-words)

‘Who was that fat guy who sat in me, strained my back and ruined my legs?’

‘I don’t know what you’re complaining about. At least with fat you get warmth and comfort. I always get the boney, fidgety ones. My arms are scarred from all their tapping and scratching.’

‘But you don’t need your legs straightening, or your back reinforcing.’

‘My arms need polishing.’

‘Which will be warm and comforting. I’ve got to be stretched and bashed back into shape.’

‘I’m covered in splashes. All their flesh protects you from those.’

‘It always has to be about you, doesn’t it?’

*****

 

Thank you to all my fellow Fictioneers and others who read and comment on my stories each week, giving me things to think about and the opportunity to improve.

 

Written by Sarah Ann

November 3, 2014 at 3:13 pm

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