Flash Fiction: The Audition

Flash Fiction: The Audition


Katy flounced into the audition room wearing a strapless polka knee-length gown, paired with black all-stars converse, she was hoping the mixture of dressy and casual would help adhere her towards the judges. The scream of “next” upon her entrance was a slap on the cheek.

“But I haven’t even auditioned”, she protested.
“Sorry love, maybe next time. Now hurry off.. Next contestant!” the bald judge, Andre screamed, looking beyond Katy towards the entrance.
“I’ll be dammed if I leave here without an audition” muttered Katy.

A crash resonated throughout the almost empty hall.
“Quick, someone get an ambulance”, Andre ordered.

Katy lay on the floor, her hands limp by her side while the rest of her body shuddered. She was salivating by the time Andre got to her. Scared out of his wits, he tried to position her body to lay laterally on her side when he thought he noticed a grin.
“How’s that for an audition”, Katy winked.

word count: 161. This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge. Thank you Etol Bagam for the lovely picture. If you’d love to participate in this 150 (+/- 25) word writing challenge, just clink on the link above.

Flash Fiction: Autumn Illusion

Flash Fiction: Autumn Illusion


“Did you see that?”
“See what?”
“Those boots, I could swear I saw them move”
“Naah, it’s just autumn illusion”
“Autumn what?! You know, just forget- it’s probably too much coffee”
“Sara, I think you’re right, I just saw it move too… Oh boy, the bush baby’s here.”
“Jackson, you’re scaring the crap out of me.”

“The bush baby! Its a hideous creature, sparing hair and only a few feet tall. It was thrown away by its parent due to its ugliness and legend says, it roams about with a pair of boot and whichever unlucky person’s feet fit into it, the bush baby claims them as their parent.”

“When did you start believing in local myth?”
“Since I saw those pair move, and I’m not ready to be a father, talk less of one to a bush baby”

“Aw, it’s probably just as you said, an autumn illusion. See- the boots look perfectly still. Jackson? Jackson!”
“Did he seriously run off?! Well you can strike out a second date now…. Bush baby, ridiculous?!”

Word count: 174 words. This story is in response to flash Fiction For aspiring writers photo prompt challenge. Thank you Very much Dawn for this week ‘s inspiring photo prompt. The rule is to write a 150 (+/- 25) word story on the given photo prompt. If you’ll to participate or self indulge in flash fiction reading, click the link above. 🙂

Flash Fiction: May-Fair Banned

Flash Fiction: May-Fair Banned


“It’s hidden in those balloons.”
“Baby, nothing is hidden in any balloon,” I reassure her.
“Nooo- I’m telling you. It’s there.” she’s pointing towards a man selling balloons. “Can’t you see, it’s the perfect hideout.”

Having had countless of such situations, I wait for the next phase and she doesn’t disappoint. Shouting at bystanders to back off, Lola attacks the balloon man, yelling gibberish. I walk as calmly as the mother of a schizophrenic fifteen year old in the middle of a crises can manage.
“I am sorry about my daughter,” I apologize to the balloon man and offer to pay for the damage to his balloons.

“Yeah right,” he mutters. “Get your crazy kid under control.”
A screw comes loose and fire alarms buzz in my head. Did he just call my Lola crazy?! The next thing, I am tearing Olaf’s face to the horror of onlookers and destroying Elsa and Rapunzel. Done, I grab Lola’s arm and scream, “now that’s crazy”.
           ….. And this is the reason I am banned from Mayfair grounds.

Word count: 174. This story is in response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring writers photo prompt challenge where a picture is given weekly and we write a 150 (+/-25) word story. The above image is courtesy of Pixabay.com

Day 7: At The coffee shop

Day 7: At The coffee shop

Today’s prompt: Focus today’s post on the contrast between two things. The twist? Write the post in the form of a dialogue.

“But he’s too clingy”, Mona complained

“Yeah, and it took you a year and an engagement ring to figure that out, congrats!”

“Ally, don’t mock me. I’m being serious here.”

“Alright, I’m sorry”, said Allison.

The strong smell of Turkish coffee filled the air as a waiter set their order on the table. Mona’s worried expression instantly changed as she lifted the coffee pot and poured it into what she thought was too small a cup. To Ally, the smell of coffee was torture, but seeing her friend’s smiling face as she lifted the cup to her lips, with the steam evaporating into space, she couldn’t help but be pleased, for a moment.

“Okay, so let me get this”, Ally began “you like him, he gave you a ring which you accepted, and now you want to return the ring cause you don’t like him anymore?”

“Who said anything about returning the ring?” questioned Mona, placing the cup briefly on the table.

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