Sarah Ann Hall

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

Archive for the ‘Flash Fiction’ Category

OLWG#47 – Love is not love… – #amwriting

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This week’s New Unofficial On-Line Writer’s Guild prompts guided me to taking my title from the Bard himself.

I’m not at all sure if the below works as a story, and I don’t know where this little character came from, but I’d be happy to meet with her again.

As ever thank you to TNKerr for hosting this challenge.

 

Love is not love…

Susie has never been good at taking orders. She would rather fall over her laces than be told to tie them. She wears her clothes inside out when the mood takes her, refuses to brush her hair, and relishes in being an oik, nutter, dozy cow and other things she is labelled in school. She will never be a plastic. Being different is cool.

Susie knows that without love she wouldn’t be able to be the child she is. Without acceptance from her family that she’ll grow out of it eventually, she would be buffeted by demands to change, demands she would have to ignore. But it’s true to say Susie’s inability to tow the normal line infuriates some members of her family more than others. Grandpa and Grandma give her all their love and let her be. She goes to their nondescript flat in the middle of the block most days after school. She sometimes turns the place into a riot, and her grandparents smile at the attention she brings their way. Because some attention is better than no attention.

When Grandpa opens to door to Susie in her get-up of dungarees and pigtails, he asks if she has come to paint his ceilings. ‘Or is it mufty day at school?’ Susie scowls then jumps into his arms grinning. Grandpa understands her need to be different, her need to be her.

The three of them make hot chocolate, Grandpa, Grandma and Susie. They huddle together in the kitchen and melt 70% chocolate drops into Guernsey milk. They sit around the table and each holds his or her mug with two hands, supping in silence. Later they watch TV and Susie scans the sitting for anything that has changed since yesterday. She will notice a book removed from the bookcase, or a wilting flower. Her observation skills are acute. Perhaps they come from being watched and pointed at all the time. Today her eyes are drawn upwards and soon they are all watching the spider high up in the corner as it spins its web, extending its home. A plastic would jump and scream behind her hands until Grandpa dealt with the monster. A boy might swipe web and spider away. Susie and Grandpa and Grandma sit and watch silk spun into beauty.

When it’s time to go, Grandpa and Grandma walk Susie home, handing her back to her parents in time for an early night. They group hug on the doorstep, five of them stroking cheeks, patting hands, rubbing shoulders, waiting to do it all again tomorrow.

Susie finishes her homework without needing to be told. She cleans her teeth then backcombs her hair before getting into bed. She reads for a little while before switching off the light. A girl needs her sleep if she is to keep up being different. And there are degrees of different, some more acceptable than others.

 


This week’s prompts are:

  1. playing dress-up
  2. watched the spider high in the corner
  3. in the middle of the block

 

Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Write something
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need.

Have fun

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Written by Sarah Ann

April 25, 2018 at 2:11 pm

OLWG#46 – At the Theatre – #micropoetry

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It is occasionally worrying what a couple of days away from something can do to one’s perspective on one’s writing. The prompts for the #46 On-Line Writer’s Guild prompts had me excitedly starting a story about society rushing about, the loss of conversation, and advent of driverless cars. However, when I went to finish it, I realised what a load of drivel it was. So I looked at the prompts again and went to the theatre instead, producing a haiku, shadorma and American cinquain.

 

 

rehearsals again

don’t be late, don’t slam that door

orders from all sides

 

 

What a rush!

Touching up faces

Scene changes

Costume swaps

Hitting the spot every time.

The show must go on.

 

 

Waiting

With bated breathe

Standing on the corner

For the smiling stars to appear

Stage door

 


This week’s prompts are:

  1. what a rush
  2. on the corner
  3. don’t slam that door

 

Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Write something
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need.

Have fun

Written by Sarah Ann

April 23, 2018 at 11:15 am

#FridayFictioneers – 20/4/18 – Absence

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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 tried hard this week, and then gave up. I’m looking forward to seeing what everyone else did with this baffling prompt. With thanks to Rochelle for hosting and Doug MacIlroy for a prompt that beat me.

 

© Douglas M. MacIlroy

Absence

(Genre: autobiography; 100-words)

I stare and see nothing. I rub my eyes, push and pull to remove the occlusion, but remain blind.

I turn away. The views to the side and behind are clear. Only the scene in front of me is blocked. I shake my head and concentrate on other things.

Days later I make another attempt, but make no headway. Sideways and tangential approaches achieve little.

I could struggle for days more, but choose a different path. And so, instead of tales of tragedy or humour, I present a vignette of what happens when my muse deserts me – not a lot.

 

 

Written by Sarah Ann

April 20, 2018 at 2:19 pm

OLWG#45 – #micropoetry – cinquain, tanka, limerick,

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When I saw the #45 New Unofficial On-Line Writer’s Guild prompts, the Geronimo Green prompt immediately made me think of a limerick, so I did some googling and came up with this informative link. I’m not sure my limerick works – the last line feels as if it needs an extra syllable.

Thank you to Thom for hosting these each week and stretching my writing muscles.

 

 

Loveless.

Alone. Solo.

Never my intention.

To be a regretful woman.

Forlorn.

 

At least fifty pounds

He spread his arms wide and winked

Perfect scales, bright eyes

A competition winner

If it hadn’t swum away

 

There once was a girl from Mill Hill

Who liked nothing more than a thrill

Geronimo Green

Created a scene

When he kissed her she screamed most shrill

 


This week’s prompts are:

  1. at least fifty pounds
  2. never my intention
  3. Geronimo Greene

Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Write something
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need.

Have fun

Written by Sarah Ann

April 16, 2018 at 7:56 pm

#FridayFictioneers – 13/4/18 – Better Together

with 43 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.

My muse decided to take a break when I looked at this week’s prompt, so I went to hubby to see what he could see.

Thank you to Rochelle for hosting and Yarnspinnerr for this week’s prompt.

 

© Yarnspinnerr

Better Together

(Genre: comic; 100-words)

‘What the – ’

Burt surveyed the veranda fan, twisted and beaten out of shape. It had been fine when he left, and nothing else was damaged.

Scratching his head he lurched inside, ‘Gotta stop drinking so much.’

A second after the fly-screen banged shut, the beetles started giggling.

The moths twitched with pleasure, speeding towards the light.

‘Nah nah nah naah nah,’ sang the mosquitoes.

‘I never thought we’d manage it,’ breathed the fireflies.

Later that evening: ‘It’s amazing what a unified legion of pissed off flying insects can achieve,’ observed the bats, whilst flitting in for an exceptionally fine supper.

 

OLWG#44 – Steady as She Goes

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Having made a pledge to post my responses to the On-Line Writer’s Guild prompts within 4-days of their posting, I am 5-days late. I did write this on Thursday last, but I was on a ferry en route to France where I spent a few days walking in the sun, shopping, eating far too much, and generally having good time.

Thanks to TNKerr for posting each week, and waiting for me to catch up.

 

Steady as She Goes

‘Hold it steady.’

‘I’m trying.’

‘You’re very trying.’

‘Do you want me to help?’

‘No. I want to be able to do it myself. It would be quieter.’

‘Yes, but you can’t balance the bike vertically and apply enough pressure to move the nuts.’

‘I don’t need reminding.’

‘You decided travel by motorbike was more environmentally friendly, and would be easier to work on if ever something went wrong.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘You did. Fewer emissions, more fuel economy. More wrinkles for me and the need to slather on moisturiser, as if I need anything to accelerate the affects of old age.’

‘I meant about it being easier to work on. I never said that. I don’t know what I’m doing. At least car engines are laid out relatively the same way. I don’t know what’s what on motorbike.’

‘So why are we doing this?’

‘Because I want to try. Or because I’m a bloody-minded fool?’

‘You said it. You don’t have the patience these days. Or the time.’

‘That’s true, about the time at least. Will you hold it steady?’

‘Will you give up and phone a garage?’

‘In a minute. Just let me see if I can – Bugger.’

‘Here, use this.’

‘What the?’

‘Well surely a ratchet at this point would be easier than a spanner.’

‘You said you didn’t have it.’

‘I said I hadn’t found it. You didn’t give me time to get to the bottom of the tool kit before you started moaning and digging out the right-sized spanner. As I said, you’ve got patience issues.’

‘You didn’t tell me you’d found it.’

‘No. I was being bloody-minded.’

’Why?’

‘I felt like it. I’m here to help and all you do is complain. It’s not my fault your bike went wrong, again. It’s not my fault you’re not a bike mechanic. It’s not my fault your bike is too heavy for me to pin between my knees and hold steady while you push and heave trying to remove that seized nut.’

‘Fine. I give up. Let’s call the garage.’

‘I didn’t say – ’

‘You didn’t need to. You’re bored, fed-up, annoyed, whatever.’

‘It’s not that black or white. I feel useless. The one thing you want me to do, hold it steady, I’m not equipped in the strength department to do, so I feel inadequate. You can’t do what you want to and I can’t do what you want me to.’

‘Thanks for the ratchet. These nuts will go back much more quickly.’

‘But – ’

‘You’re right. This is stupid. I’ll phone the breakdown people, get the bike taken to be fixed by someone who knows what they’re doing. We can start on the fence instead.’

‘What!’

‘It’s sunny outside. We can paint the fence. Hey, hold it steady, I’ve got two left.’

‘And then I’m going out.’

‘What?’

‘You paint the fence if you want to, but you’ll be doing it alone. I agreed to help with your bike. I said nothing about giving up my day to get your other jobs done.’

‘What do you want to do instead?’

‘Go for a walk. Enjoy the sun while it’s here.’

‘Fine. You’ve convinced me. Just as long as there’s a beer halfway.’

‘Agreed.’

‘Finished. That’s the last one back. Let’s get going.’

 


This week’s prompts are:

  1. black or white
  2. use this
  3. bullshit

Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Write something
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need.

Have fun

Written by Sarah Ann

April 10, 2018 at 2:50 pm

#FridayFictioneers – 6/4/18 – Like Mother Like Daughter

with 37 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’m obviously ill as I’m posting on Wednesday. Actually, I’m out of the country for two days so if I don’t post now I won’t. I’ll catch up with reading and commenting next week. My story is very rushed and bound to be full of holes so tell me where they are. I couldn’t even get to 100-words, no time, no time, falling down a rabbit hole….

Thanks to Rochelle and Dale this week.

 

© Dale Rogerson

 

Like Mother Like Daughter

(Genre: general fiction; 99-words)

Jenna’s mother taught her how to weave: how to select the canes, soak them, bend them to her will. Never satisfied with the way of things, Jenna experimented with shape and purpose, interweaving feathers and dried flowers, ribbons of paper, making each creation unique to the person for whom it was formed.

Daytrippers saw proud villagers walk about with baskets slung over arm, or lampshades on windowsills, and wanted to pay extortionate sums for something of their own to show off. Jenna turned them all down. ‘Tis not the way of things,’ she told them. ’Tis not my way.’

 

Written by Sarah Ann

April 4, 2018 at 8:10 pm

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