“Girl! You’ve got some serious screws lose.”
“He was such a fine specimen.”
“You know you’re making a mistake right.”
“She sure is! What were you thinking, saying no to him.”
Layla stared blankly, hoping her evident disinterest in their monologues would get them to stop talking; it wasn’t working.
“Are you even listening to what we’re saying”,
“We’re trying to help you out here, you know”.
Layla gave a loud sigh, then turned to face them,
“Why“, she said.
They stared at her, lack of understanding, evident on their faces.
“Did it occur to you, to ask me why I said no to him?”
Silence filled the room. She got up and smiled wearily,
“That’s what I thought.”
Layla pointed through the window at the narrow steep pathway, guarded by green shrubs on all sides, which led to up to the hill.
“That’s where I’ll be when you’re all done,” she added before heading out. Their murmurs of “you’re not getting any younger you know,” following her out the door.
Word count: 171 words. This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writer’s photo prompt challenge, hosted by Priceless Joy, where each week we are provided a picture and are to write a 75-175 word story inspired by it. Thank you very much for this week’s photo @JS Brand.
His talk was as loud as,
His silence while crying;
He’d mastered the art of,
Concealing his downfalls;
When the moon graced
You’d find him,
Under the starlight.
His smile was as bright as,
The darkness he kept hidden;
And no one would reach out,
None knew he needed healing;
When the sky turned a shade,
He could live without concealment,
You’d find him by the bank,
Alone with his reflection.
When you sight him,
By the sea,
In reply to, “how you’re feeling”.
Praise his lord and add,
“I cannot count my blessings”.
In spite of the darkness,
In spite of his heart bleeding,
It could have been worse,
Is the mantra he keeps repeating.
His talk was as loud as,
His silence while crying,
His strength is reflected,
In his hope to keep on living.
P.S what had happened was, my days got mixed up yesterday. I thought it was Wednesday already when it was actually Tuesday (yes, I am that eager for the weekend to come) and hence, I accidentally posted the writers poem Wednesday, yesterday instead of today.
Shouldnt know to
Look in the mirror,
Not liking what they see.
Shouldn’t hear that,
tears are for losers-
A sign of being weak.
Their young hearts,
Should believe in-
The saying, hope
Breeds eternal misery,
has wings to lift.
If you are a lover of rainbows,
A dreamer when the sun is about,
A reader whilst the crowd is gathering,
For worldly pleasures and fun.
A foodie when your mind is spinning,
A sleeper whilst the shadow is around,
A prayer unknots from your tongue on,
the days when the hours seem long.
If you know you are normal,
But have been called weird,
If you are a dreamer,
But have been named belle,
If you are religious,
But have been called prude,
If you love the written,
But have been called nerd.
Welcome to my world,
Of papers and words,
A safe haven for dreamers,
With no need to conform.
You tell me it’s all fiction,
the poetry you write,
That reality is far fetched,
From the land your muse resides,
The so called “love” you’d written,
Are words without much heart,
And I wonder if you think back,
To the ring on your finger.
You’d ask of my opinion,
And of course I’d say it’s great,
But I wonder, don’t you think our love,
Is worth words on a page.
So I read through every single page,
With pulse at a heightened pace,
And wonder will this be the day,
Our love inspires poetry.
“Come in”, Leslie answered from behind her desk without lifting her gaze up.
The door was pushed softly and in walked Tony, in his usual black tee, jeans and bandanna.
“You sent for me boss?” Tony asked, a broad smile on his face.
She looked up, dropped her pen and folded her hands across the table.
“Yes I did.” Leslie replied curtly.
“Does this look like an alternate universe to you“, she began, without necessarily waiting for an answer. “where gnomes go around chasing aliens for the entertainment of humans while we cheer them on”
The smile on Tony’s face faded.
“You only had one job Tony,” Leslie continued, “get me a cover picture that would surprise me and stun the readers. And you decided of all the excitement of this universe to supply me with the shot of an alien and a gnome!”
Tony knew the only thing he could do was apologise, which he did.
“Sorry?” She echoed his apology, “well sorry for yourself!” she replied, hurling the picture at him.
word count: 173. The above story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring writer’s photo prompt challenge, for which I am almost late for, almost. Thank you very much @any1mark66 for this week’s photo.
telling you would mean, awaking most days with the knowledge,
The knowledge- you know that I want(ed) it to be you, although you are not mine to have;
telling you would mean, having to mask my emotions with an exaggerated display of happiness, when I sight your arms interlocked with hers.
telling you, would mean living with the knowledge that I almost destroyed another woman’s life… almost.
Telling you wouldn’t make any difference. The ring is hers, the wedding is upon, and all I have got is the dignity to hold my head up and utter through gritted teeth, how happy I am for you and expect you to believe it.
Telling you- would mean accepting the truth, you wouldn’t fight for me, us. You’ve always been an avoider of conflict and saying it won’t change that.
You might say, you wish it was me…. and I could handle me being unhappy but I couldn’t bear it If it was you. So I delude myself, as you delude yourself, and pretend we were never meant to be…
“Boss“, began D.S Fenworthy before he was shushed to silence by his partner D.I Lucy. She sat with her head, half-out the car window, gazing towards the sky, as had been her position for the past 20 minutes.
“Boss, this is getting ridiculous.” Groaned Fenworthy.
D.I Lucy sighed before turning her gaze to face him in the driver’s seat.
“A few minutes of silence was all I wanted,” she muttered.
“Well, We’ve been sitting in this car for the past four hours“, Fenworthy moaned.
“4 hrs, 37 minutes“, she corrected.
“Yes that. Can’t we leave already.”
D.I Lucy smiled in wonder at how Fenworthy could be surrounded with such beauty- The soothing presence of the golden yellow ombré against a blue background in the sky, the soft whooshing sounds of tree leaves, the cool autumn breeze blowing; yet still find something to moan about.
“Soon Fen.” She answered, knowing he couldn’t decipher her facial expressions in the darkness. And thinking to herself, “some people need a date with nature.”
Word count: 166. The above story is in response. You Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writer’s photo prompt challenge, where each week we are provided with a picture and are to write a 75-175 word story on it. Thank you @footy and foodie for this week’s photo.
“Just look at this place.” D.S Fenworthy gawked at the magnificence of the ancient building in front of them.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those” replied D.I Lucy, mildly amused at his reaction.
“One of who?” He asked pausing in his tracks.
“Never mind”. D.I Lucy shrugged. Marching into the building, knowing fully well she had touched a nerve with him. Fenworthy was too curious for his own good which was a great thing in his line of work, but a thorn in other aspects of his life.
“One of who boss?“, Fenworthy pressured on. Increasing the pace of his footsteps to catch up with her.
They arrived in front of a ginormous metal gate, with no means of opening. It brought them back to the grim reality of why they were there in the first place. D.I Lucy placed her badge in front of a camera which was embedded on one side of the wall and thought to herself, oh the evils that lurk behind closed doors.
word count: 169. The above story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writer’s photo prompt challenge hosted by Priceless Joy, where each week we are provided with a photo and are to write a 75-175 story surrounding it. Thank you very much @majesticgoldenrose for this week’s photo.
“Are we there yet?”, Jamie’s voice shot up.
“Not yet honey, we only just began like five minutes ago”. His mother replied.
A few steps up the rocky hill, Andrea’s voice shot up,
“We there yet?”
“No love, still got some way to climb, okay?” The mother replied as patiently as she could get her voice to sound.
Five minutes passed in peace with only their crunching footsteps disturbing the sound of Mother Nature when Aaliyah spoke up,
Their mother paused in her tracks and faced Aaliyah with such an intense look, little Aaliyah cowered, her gaze downwards and muttered,
“I only wanted to know if I may have some water please.”
Laughter erupted from both Andrea and Jamie because they were pretty sure that wasn’t reason. But as long as mama was consoled, they kept their mouth shut.
Their mother sighed, beginning to regret ever offering to take them on a hiking trip. She placed her hands on her barely visible bump and said,
“You, better behave once you come out.”
Word count: 173. The above story is in response to flash fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge, where each week we are provided with an image and are to write a 75-175 word story in it. Thank you @Pamela S. Canepa for this week’s photo.