Sarah Ann Hall

Reporting on writing in progress or, more probably, not; practising flash fiction.

#FridayFictioneers -14/4/17 – Gone Astray

with 30 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.


© Dale Rogerson

Gone Astray

(Genre: general fiction; 100-words)

I’ve been to the police station five times. The desk jockeys think I’m hysterical. They don’t believe my mother is missing.

‘She hasn’t been gone 24-hours,’ they say. ‘She’s an adult.’

I insist it’s out of character.

She only ever eats pizza on the anniversary of dad’s disappearance, with fingers from the box, ready to run. However long it takes to consume, she doesn’t move until it’s done, in case he comes back to finish the one he left. She’s been fulfilling this ritual for 15-years. She couldn’t not complete it.

Unless something happened.

Unless she went to join him.



Written by Sarah Ann

April 14, 2017 at 5:34 pm

30 Responses

Subscribe to comments with RSS.

  1. Funny yet poignant. Great take.


    April 14, 2017 at 6:14 pm

    • Thank you for your comment. You’ve got me thinking now, because I hadn’t meant this to be funny in any way – maybe I just see the black in everything. I love it when readers find something in my words that I can’t see or intend.

      Sarah Ann

      April 15, 2017 at 12:05 pm

      • Funny might not have been the right word, but the daughter’s security of her mother’s behaviour because of an unfinished pizza is Month Python/dark type of humour for me, but perhaps I’ve been living in Spain for too long! It’s great in any case:)


        April 15, 2017 at 3:54 pm

      • Funny is good, especially in a Monty Python way. ☺ I can see that being convinced of something based on unfinished pizza is a basis for laughs, as well as disbelief in others. Especially when that pizza’s eaten with fingers straight from the box.

        Sarah Ann

        April 15, 2017 at 6:59 pm

  2. Dear Sarah Ann,

    At first I thought perhaps dad died…you did say disappearance though. Poignant, funny and mysterious. well done.




    April 14, 2017 at 7:32 pm

    • Hi Rochelle. At first I wrote ‘dad’s death’ then thought I’d try to inject a bit of mystery. I have no idea what happened to him after all. I’m glad the mystery came across. Thank you, Sarah

      Sarah Ann

      April 15, 2017 at 12:03 pm

  3. Great lead line that made me need to know what was happening. But the horror of eating pizza straight from the box with fingers only was hard to envision.

    Life Lessons of a Dog Lover

    April 14, 2017 at 9:29 pm

    • 🙂 The pizza with fingers from the box is thanks to my 11-year old godson, whom I looked after recently. He couldn’t cope with me eating pizza from a plate, using a knife and fork!

      Sarah Ann

      April 15, 2017 at 12:06 pm

    • Is there another way to eat pizza? 😉

      Christine Goodnough

      April 15, 2017 at 9:43 pm

  4. A little mystery. Loved it!


    April 15, 2017 at 3:11 am

  5. Its a classic flash ……. leaves the reader wanting to now more.


    April 15, 2017 at 7:37 am

  6. It does leave the reader wanting more and to know more. Is he coming back? Has she gone to him? Or is there something sinister in the background?

    Michael Wynn

    April 15, 2017 at 11:52 am

    • I have no idea where he’s gone or why. I did have an idea that he phoned and she followed him in to the night, but the word limit didn’t allow for that embellishment. We shall never know what happened.

      Sarah Ann

      April 15, 2017 at 12:09 pm

  7. Very grim. By the time the police decide she really is missing it’ll be too late. The daughter knows her mother…


    April 15, 2017 at 4:55 pm

    • Now you’ve got to tell me what you know. Why will it be too late? Where’s she gone? I really have no idea. 🙂

      Sarah Ann

      April 15, 2017 at 6:48 pm

  8. Wow! You’ve written quite the mini mystery. sounds like a little dementia going on with mom, or mental illness. I’d be worried, too, if her mind wasn’t clear.

    Christine Goodnough

    April 15, 2017 at 9:45 pm

    • The mystery deepens as readers come up with more ideas on what might be going on. I hadn’t gone with dementia, but maybe that’s why dad’s missing. Thank you for your thoughts and more food for thought. 🙂

      Sarah Ann

      April 15, 2017 at 11:09 pm

  9. life’s full of surprises. i think he came back and took her for a second honeymoon.


    April 17, 2017 at 4:56 am

    • Let’s hope so. Thank you for the uplifting suggestion. 🙂

      Sarah Ann

      April 17, 2017 at 1:33 pm

  10. We have a bit of a mystery on our hands. I sense the mother has been murdered and that’s how she’s gone missing. But I think it could be something else entirely. I like the way it feels open. Cleverly written, Sarah.

    Amy Reese

    April 17, 2017 at 5:07 am

    • Thanks Amy. I have a negative feel about what’s happened, but it’s good to know it’s open to interpretation.

      Sarah Ann

      April 17, 2017 at 1:34 pm

      • I too sensed something on the negative side.

        Amy Reese

        April 19, 2017 at 5:03 am

  11. It’s funny how we know someone well enough to absolutely KNOW they are doing things that are out of character. You carried that through the whole 100-word story. Nicely done.

    Alicia Jamtaas

    April 17, 2017 at 5:09 am

    • That’s good to hear, thanks. I wanted the daughter’s conviction to come across.

      Sarah Ann

      April 17, 2017 at 1:36 pm

  12. For a minute, I thought she ate fingers from the box, then reread it to clarify in my mind what was actually happening. Perhaps they were both abducted by aliens bent on starting their own pizzeria.


    April 17, 2017 at 5:42 pm

  13. The rituals people keep…
    On that note. we are left with more questions than answers – and that’s a good thing!


    April 17, 2017 at 9:55 pm

  14. Oh! God! Where is she? Suspense is in the air. Loved this story.


    April 18, 2017 at 4:47 pm

  15. Well done. Sad and yet there is a resignation to the speaker’s thoughts about her mother. I loved the ritual of eating the pizza, always hoping he would come back to finish his slice.


    April 19, 2017 at 4:28 pm

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: