Sarah Ann Hall

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

Posts Tagged ‘freedom

#FridayFictioneers – 15/6/18 – Freedom

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.

 

When I looked at this week’s prompt I immediately imagined someone trapped in a cellar, seeing a bird outside, and longing to be free. Then I read Bjorn’s prompt for Haibun Monday on d’Verse and took a different path.

With thanks to Rochelle for hosting, Jean for this week’s photo, and Björn for a useful nudge.

 

© Jean L. Hays

 

Freedom

(Genre: general fiction; 100-words)

I’ve been locked in here for weeks now, watching the days shorten through a tiny skylight. No one will be looking for me. I led an independent life and won’t be missed.

My kidnapper keeps me fed and watered, and life is easy not having to make choices about what to eat, how to fit in shopping, what to wear each day to look my best. Not being able to pee whenever the need arises is the only inconvenience.

She hasn’t told me why I was taken, and I have ceased to wonder. Having no control has become weirdly liberating.

 

 

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Written by Sarah Ann

June 15, 2018 at 10:12 am

#FridayFictioneers – 30/5/14 – The Wedding Party

with 32 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.

 

Thanks to Jennifer for this week’s photo.

 

 

The Wedding Party

(Genre: Historical Fiction/ Fairytale; 100-words)

Yesterday, I waved from the palace balcony. This morning, I wander deserted streets. My people revelled in my marriage and will not wake until afternoon, many useless even then.

My husband sleeps still, after the laudanum-spiced wine I generously provided to slow his pawing. He will awaken eventually, a dagger covered in my father’s blood resting in his hand. With the king dead, I doubt I will be missed.

I leave as one of my people, dressed in borrowed clothes, embracing a peasant’s life to escape the whims of men. The country stretches away before me, coaxing me on.

 

 

Friday Fictioneers

Written by Sarah Ann

May 30, 2014 at 6:19 pm

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