Sarah Ann Hall

Reporting on writing in progress or, more probably, not.

Posts Tagged ‘fear

#FridayFictioneers – 12/5/17 – A Moment in Time

with 13 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 really struggled coming up with something that wasn’t obvious/ boring this week, which is why I’m posting so late. I’m not sure this works. I tried to go funny using characters from a previous post, but misery took over my muse.

Thanks Rochelle for hosting and the prompt this week.

 

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

A Moment in Time

(Genre: general fiction; 100-words)

‘How is it my fault?’ I say looking at the hanging wing mirror.

‘If I hadn’t been picking you up, it wouldn’t have happened,’ Colin screams.

‘You won’t let me drive myself.’

‘I worry,’ he whines, ‘about you being out alone.’

Since turning seventy-five, Colin had become safety obsessed.

‘I’m hardly likely to be kidnapped by slavers.’

‘I want to do it,’ he says. ‘It gets me out the house.’

Colin’s becoming more reclusive, relying on my friends for company.

He won’t explain how the lamppost jumped across the pavement.

I think of his mother and fear for our future.

 

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Written by Sarah Ann

May 14, 2017 at 7:24 pm

#FridayFictioneers – 11/4/14 – Mayday

with 35 comments

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

Every Friday (or before) the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Visit Rochelle’s site for the rules on how to join in and check out the other stories by clicking on the blue guy.

 

Mayday (100-words)

Streamers snap. Choirs sing, battling the beeps and whirs of mechanical enticements.

Children dart and squeal in delight.

Adults chatter – ‘Jimmy, get back here!’

The wheezy bleat of an accordion soars.

Feet shuffle over grass; stamp on the dance floor.

Ker-plunk: a coin in a slot.

Pop goes an air rifle. ‘YES! Get in there!’ wins a prize.

Onions sizzle, burgers spit.

The squelch and, ‘Yeugh,’ of a dropped ice-cream.

A joyful cacophony cushions squawking gulls, circling overhead; waiting.

 

Ker-ump.

 

A wave of cordite rolls.

Silence.

Deaf. Blind. Can’t breathe.

Silence.

Bones snap, flesh tears, blood flows.

The screams begin.

 

Friday Fictioneers

 

I’m not happy with this piece. I know what I was trying to do, I don’t think I acheived it. Let me know what you think.

Written by Sarah Ann

April 11, 2014 at 7:35 pm

God Knows – #gargleblaster156

with 38 comments

 

‘It wasn’t me.’

‘It never is.’

‘Promise, Mum. It wasn’t me. It was Sally.’

‘She wasn’t here.’

‘Maybe Dad knocked it over. Or the cat?’

‘God knows. It isn’t really that important.’

‘Mum?’

‘Yes.’

‘Does God really know who broke your mug?’

 


 

 

 

 

This is my submission for this week’s gargleblaster challenge over at yeah write. This week’s Ultimate Question to answer in 42 words: Who dunnit?

 

 

 

 

 

Written by Sarah Ann

April 7, 2014 at 8:57 pm

#FridayFictioneers – 14/3/14 – Ticket to the Other Side

with 35 comments

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

Every Friday (or before) the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Visit Rochelle’s site for the rules on how to join in and check out the other stories by clicking on the blue guy.

 

AdamIckes-boardwalk

Copyright – Adam Ickes

 

Whilst commenting on each other’s posts last week, Wandering Voiceless and I mooted the idea of rating how easy or not we found the photo prompt at generating stories. I suggested a scale of 1 (instantly) to 5 (I’m still thinking about it). This week’s photo for me was about a 4.5.

The thing that sprang to mind immediately was trolls, but Björn wrote a troll story last year that was so good I still don’t want to compete with it. (I can’t find it – my link doesn’t go there anymore). Then I had a thought about cows crossing to the grass that’s greener and the bridge collapsing while they were halfway across, told from the POV of a cow of course. On Thursday night, I went to bed no further forward. All the time I wasn’t getting anywhere, a lyric from Solarstone’s Jump the Next Train kept reeling through my head – Take a ticket to the other side – and that’s what I ended up going with.

–––––

 

Ticket to the Other Side

(Genre: Speculative fiction; 100-words)

– Roll up. Get your tickets here. Cross the bridge and fulfil your dreams.

What’s on the other side, Mister?

– What can you see?

Green grass, warmth, bright lights. And ice-cream.

– You’ll do well. You’re a true dreamer.

Tommy, get back here!

Aww, Mum, I wanna cross.

It’s not safe.

But it looks beautiful, Mum. All that grass.

What grass? The bridge is near collapse. The land is broken. There is only misery and pain over there.

The man said I could take a look.

Did he also tell you it’s a one-way ticket? Where do you think your father went?

 

Friday Fictioneers

Written by Sarah Ann

March 14, 2014 at 10:02 pm

#FridayFictioneers – 7/3/14 – He Who Remains

with 42 comments

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

Every Friday (or before) the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Visit Rochelle’s site for the rules on how to join in and check out the other stories by clicking on the blue guy.

–––––


After running about like a mad thing all week, I’m flagging and the muse is wanting. There is a better ending to this story (and probably a beginning and middle too), I just can’t catch hold of it

 

Copyright - Danny Bowman

Copyright – Danny Bowman

 

 

He Who Remains

(Genre: Science Fiction, 100-words)

The away-party had been gone a week. It was two days since any radio contact.

The sunsets were beautiful, but outside was barren and arid, and he was glad he’d stayed behind.

Had the others found water and made camp? Had the radio batteries run out? Were they on their way back to him?

If he’d gone with them he’d know, but someone needed to stay with the shuttle, to report to HQ on the success or failure of the mission. He liked being alone, safe; with the cyanide, just in case.

What was that noise? Something at the door?

 

Friday Fictioneers

Written by Sarah Ann

March 7, 2014 at 11:29 pm

#VisDare 37: Trajectory – A New Orbit

with 5 comments

This week Angela gave us another great VisDare photo prompt.

 

RULES:
150 words – or less.
Post entry to your blog and “link in”.
No blog? Post your 150 words in the comments.
(Please – no erotica or graphic violence.)
DON’T FORGET to read and comment on others’ entries!!
–––––

 

 

 

A New Orbit (150 words)

Joseph walked in circles, lost and alone. Life had been so simple, now it was complicated. He knew he should understand. The lawyer’s voice had been calm, so matter-of-fact, but still the equations and numbers had Joseph’s thoughts spiralling.

It should have been straightforward. With Aunt Alice dead, as sole beneficiary, Joseph had expected to get her house. He hadn’t wanted it, but she’d always said it would be his. But there was more – money in trusts, shares and investments – all of it for him. The figures the lawyer had spoken of were mind-bending, which explained why Joseph’s brain was twisting back on itself, trying to catch hold of something.

Joseph’s linear life had become entangled. With his beloved aunt dead he was drowning. He had wanted nothing, yet received everything. His future would be richer, but his soul was already the poorer: the numbness over-powering.

 

26fda-anonymous-legacy-160x160-black

 

Written by Sarah Ann

September 17, 2013 at 7:56 pm

#VisDare 27 -Bruised – Found

with 4 comments

This week’s VisDare prompt from Angela at Anonymous Legacy:

 

RULES:
150 words – or less.
Post entry to your blog and “link in”.
No blog? Post your 150 words in the comments.
(Please – no erotica or graphic violence.)
DON’T FORGET to read and comment on others’ entries!!
As always – thanks for participating!
–––––

 

Found (149 words)

He saw her in an alley as he drove past. Parking when able, he walked back, fingers crossed.

She was halfway up a fire escape. Bare feet black; black hair lank, half shielding the darting black eyes.

He held out his hand; didn’t smile in case it spooked her.

She looked for a way out. Up and he would follow; down was into his arms. Jump and risk injury?

She was tiny for her age; the pink dress smudged by a brown palette.

Okay, maybe he’d try smiling. She didn’t have the energy to run fast and her damaged feet wouldn’t carry her far.

Just as he’d feared, the smile caused her to shrink back, look up, prepare to climb.

‘It’s all right, Anita,’ he said, one hand open towards her, the other snaking inside his jacket for his badge. ‘I’m a policemen. I’m going to take you home.’

 

 

Written by Sarah Ann

July 8, 2013 at 8:52 pm

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