Sarah Ann Hall

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

#FridayFictioneers – 26/5/17 – Regret

with 36 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.

This story wrote itself, I was not in control once nature’s tendrils started wandering, and I have found it difficult to edit so I know there has to be something wrong with it – let me know what it is!

Thank you to Rochelle as ever, and to J Hardy Carroll for the prompt.

© J Hardy Carroll


(Genre: humour; 100-words)

Nature has started to re-assert herself. Green shoots twist and ease their way into gaps in the brickwork. In time, she will devour the eyesore and passersby will see only a mound of vegetation. Few will remember the mighty folly that once stood here; none will be able to imagine its grandeur from its remains.

I will visit on every anniversary of the conflagration until I can no longer walk the hills.

To lose such a monument under my custodianship is shaming.

And if ever the grandchildren come to stay again, I will be searching their knicker elastic for matches.


Written by Sarah Ann

May 26, 2017 at 2:32 pm

36 Responses

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  1. Ha! Ha! The last line turns it around totally.


    May 26, 2017 at 3:12 pm

  2. What fun!


    May 26, 2017 at 3:24 pm

  3. You turned this story nicely, from pain and melancholy into a wry smile. Lovely!


    May 26, 2017 at 3:48 pm

    • Thank you Sandra. I’m never sure with a turn like that so happy to know it worked.

      Sarah Ann

      May 26, 2017 at 9:18 pm

  4. Dear Sarah Ann,

    You have me wondering what has transpired and laughing at matching the grandchildren’s knicker elastic. Nicely done.




    May 26, 2017 at 4:56 pm

  5. Ha, kids will find ingenious hiding places, the little scamps 🙂


    May 26, 2017 at 6:12 pm

  6. Well done. Quite a lot said in those last few words. 😀

    Christine Goodnough

    May 26, 2017 at 8:27 pm

  7. Matches in their knicker elastic. Wonderful 🙂


    May 27, 2017 at 12:08 am

  8. Well, I read it several times and I think I found what is wrong with it. It is addictive and every time I read it it was like the ending was new and I grinned again and again. You need a warning label. “May be habit forming.”


    May 27, 2017 at 3:28 am

    • You’re far too kind. I’m left glowing and grinning having read your comment over and over.

      Sarah Ann

      May 29, 2017 at 3:27 pm

  9. Nice twist.

    Clare Hempstead

    May 27, 2017 at 8:33 am

  10. A judicious mix of pragmatism and optimism. Lovely write.


    May 27, 2017 at 2:22 pm

  11. Ha! From tragedy (which it truly was) to a loud “Ha!” Thank goodness it’s only me and the cat who are home right now. Cheers! to a good story.

    Alicia Jamtaas

    May 27, 2017 at 6:14 pm

  12. I would never have trusted myself as a kid… at least never with matches. Love the turn in the end.

    • I can’t imagine ever being so destructive, even by accident. While I love watching a flame dance in a stove/ hearth, I shudder when I think of buildings being ravaged.

      Sarah Ann

      May 29, 2017 at 3:34 pm

  13. i assume nobody died. 🙂


    May 28, 2017 at 3:05 am

    • No one was hurt, and the naughty fire-lighters didn’t scorch a hair. Just the building suffered, and the family’s reputation as custodians. Thanks for reading.

      Sarah Ann

      May 29, 2017 at 3:32 pm

  14. Oh dear, I sympathise she must be so upset. I think she should search everywhere for matches but it sounds a bit as though she’s shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted

    Michael Wynn

    May 30, 2017 at 7:01 am

    • This time was definitely too late, but I don’t think the kids will get away with much in the future.

      Sarah Ann

      May 30, 2017 at 11:06 pm

  15. Uh, oh. She’d better keep a close eye on those kids. And she should definitely search for matches. Good writing, Sarah Ann. 🙂 — Suzanne


    May 30, 2017 at 11:57 am

  16. My grandson & his buddy (age 9) were recently caught by my son building a fire. It was outdoors, but in an extreme drought. They both got a stern lecture and a lesson on the dangers of fire.

    I love the way this started as a melancholy tale then gave us a smile at the end. Great job.


    May 30, 2017 at 2:33 pm

    • I can see why they had a stern talking to. Drought and fires don’t mix well, or is it they mix too well?
      Glad my melancholy tale gave you a smile.

      Sarah Ann

      May 30, 2017 at 11:05 pm

  17. Wow! Reminded me of the time when I was a seven year old and almost burned down my house – if not for my mother’s quick action. Strangely, she did not say a harsh word – probably knew from my blanched face that I was chastised enough.

    Eric Alagan

    June 19, 2017 at 1:10 pm

    • I know I shouldn’t be smiling at you childhood misdemeanours. Had you been playing with matches? I think you’re mum had it right.

      Sarah Ann

      June 19, 2017 at 1:13 pm

      • Yes, matches it was. Set alight a dead tree branch and the tree was right next to the house! My only excuse was, I was seven and did not know better.

        Eric Alagan

        June 19, 2017 at 1:18 pm

      • That’s a fair excuse.

        Sarah Ann

        June 19, 2017 at 1:25 pm

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