It was ingrained in me from a very young age, that until the moment when I will step into my husband’s house, I was bounded by my mother’s rules. But,
I had just turned ten, and fuelled with the burst of pre-teen rebellion, I dared to turn a deaf ear to her various warnings of “no one better touch my coal burner before I get back”.
I dared. I decided to use it in my room. I lit the match, threw it into the burner filled with about a dozen coals (I didn’t know how to use it) and almost set my room on fire.
Mama returned back home as I was fervently trying to clean up my mess.
Safe to say, I learnt that day, though mama’s hands looked like wrinkled skin over flesh, they were in fact made of steel. I felt the steel that day.
Word count: 148 words. This story is in response to Flash Fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. Thank you for this week’s picture @ENISA
Mama mama… he came, screaming into the room. My heart skipped a beat, I thought something horrible had happened. Since our house got broken in, every call of excitement sent a shiver down my spine.
“Grandpa has super powers!” He kept repeating, jumping up and down with a huge smile spread across his face.
“I saw a light coming out of grandpa’s hand“, he remarked excitedly when he saw me.
“Aw Honey“, I smiled, “that is not possible”.
For a moment, his face was a mask of horror and I though, ah, I have broken my son’s heart. It was only for moment though because, he smiled again saying, “but Ma, you always say through God, all things are possible”.
I laughed, knowing that was something I could not refute that.
word count: 131. This story is in response to Flash Fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge. Thank you for this week’s photo @Goroyboy
We were tasked with writing a 2000 word essay on any topic of our choice relating to history, and I had the perfect topic- Dinosaurs: Myth or reality.
It was a no brainer really. There’s a newly opened dinosaur museum only a few blocks from my home, so I wouldn’t have to walk much or spend transport fare. Plus, rumor has it that the museum guide is a “talker”, and I figured he would be more than willing to offer up information for my paper. It was only a few days to the submission deadline, this had to work.
I slung my backpack and headed for the museum. I got to the main gate, cleared and casually strolled into the museum hall only to find a bunch of youngsters who looked like my classmates.
“You lot are a bunch of lazies!” I yelled into the laughing group. Apparently I wasn’t the only one with the “lazy ingenious” idea after all.
word count: 157 words. This story is in response to Flash Fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. Thank you for this week’s picture @Yinglan
Karim shifted the handbrake into park mode and dialled his wife’s number.
“Hun, sorry I didn’t call you back in time, I was just…”
“What’s that sitting on your lap”, she interrupted.
He glanced down and said, “Ohh its the neighbour’s cat. Mrs Graham requested me to drop her off at the Vet’s”.
“Ohh really”, his wife exclaimed “and when did you start doing favours for each other?”
He didn’t have time to respond before she threw another question
“And why is the cat sitting on your lap?”
The next thing Karim knew, his wife was bawling through the video call.
“First its her cat, next thing, it’d be her daughter. I know she’s been eyeing you”, she continued.
Karim didn’t know what to do, so he said, “I’m sorry love”, whilst mentally calculating how many weeks were left before his wife would be due to give birth.
Word count:144. The above story is in response to FFFAW hosted by priceless Joy. Thank you for this week’s picture @ENISA
Sheila felt a slight tug at her sleeves, which she purposely ignored. She was on babysitting duty which meant, taking her four siblings out, ranging between the ages of 4 and ten, for no pay whatsoever. Ohh, the drawbacks of being the older child.
The tug pulling reached an uncomfortable point, and considering “the stare” also didn’t dissuade the sleeve puller, Sheila bent down and whispered a fierce “what?“
Dawn whispered back, “can we sneak it home please?”
Sheila looked through the glass in front of her. Each one housed a crocodile, a chameleon, a porcupine and the best of all, something which looked like a really huge praying mantis residing on purple coloured limestones.
Sheila glared at Dawn, “you mean the purple stones right?”
Dawn smiled a little too sweetly, “But of course sis. What did you think I meant. The Mantis?”
Word count:142. The above story is in reaponse to Flash Fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge hosted bu Priceless Joy. Thank you very much for this week’s picture @Any1mark66
Randy was the new kid in class, so he didn’t get to see Bradshaw hills with us during last term’s excursion. For this term’s, we had formulated a plan to trick him. Bradshaw hills was unique for its cave markings. The class as a whole decided to pretend we couldn’t see the markings on the cave, to make Randy think he’s going nuts when he points at them.
It was funny when we planned it. What began as a joke ended up with Randy screaming his head off and throwing a tantrum to the teacher, declaring that he was losing it. It resulted in his parents being called to take him home and “we” all scared and getting a week of punishment.
That night, I got a call from Randy, thanking me for getting him 2 days off school to rest. Turns out, he had been to Bradshaw hills before and knew of its markings. He only played along because he could use it to his advantage.
Oh the little evil genius.
Word count:171. The above story is jn response to Flash Fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge. Thank you @Any1Mark66 for this week’s picture.
Something unexpected happened today. I awoke to the news that we had a 25 hour day, yesterday and the time has shifted from +3gmt to +2 gmt. I was messed up in the head this morning when I found out.
In my 21 years, this is the first time its happened. I had to sit down for about 30 minutes to get my bearing straight. It was confusing trying to decipher if the 11 am lecture I was having today meant 11 am old time or new time.
But then again, thats one of the great things about living in a different country; you get to experience new things. I sure wouldn’t be experiencing any time changes if I was back home.
That being said (I just had to air it out), welcome to another Writer’s Quote/Poem Wednesday. I do hope the poem i’ll be sharing today doesn’t put a damper in your mood. I found it beautiful and melancholic.
Middle Age by Pat Schneider
The child you think you don’t want
is the one who will make you laugh.
She will break your heart
when she loses the sight in one eye
and tells the doctor she wants to be
an apple tree when she grows up.
It will be this child who forgives you again and again
for believing you don’t want her to be born,
for resisting the rising tide of your body,
for wishing for the red flow of her dismissal.
She will even forgive you for all the breakfasts
you failed to make exceptional.
Someday this child will sit beside you.
When you are old and too tired of war
to want to watch the evening news,
she will tell you stories
like the one about her teenaged brother,
your son, and his friends
taking her out in a canoe when she was
five years old. How they left her alone
on an island in the river
while they jumped off the railroad bridge.
D.S Fenworthy was almost unrecognisable in his new attire. He stood across the street, dressed in an all-white monk robe, capped with a realistic looking balding cap. He wasn’t thrilled with his new look, but pokerfaced his way through it. To passersby, he was just another worshipper.
His partner, D.I Lucy, on the other hand was having a field day. She was laughing her head off as she watched him from a safe distance, in a white van. Their week had been a tough one, spent proofing a plan to infiltrate a buddhist cult run by a sociopath who had no regard for religion.
“Everyone is in place“, confirmed a voice into D.I Lucy’s head piece, drawing her attention back to the task at hand. Her facial expression contorted into a grim one. It was showtime.
Word count:137. The above story is in response to Flash Fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge. Thank you for this week’s photo @dorothy
My eyes steadily went down the list, Aisha, Alisa, Amal, Basma… I stopped. My heart skipped a beat. I ran through the names again up until Basma. Ameena wasn’t there. My name had been skipped, which meant, I failed the exams.
I walked away from the board in a daze. I failed…. what would my parents say; and I had already told them that results were coming out this week, oh the price of talking too much. My palms were getting sticky, my throat felt like a hot coal had been stuck in it.
Tears formed in my eyes and were starting to trickle down, I let them flow. It was a good few minutes of grief and mourning before a thought occurred. What if, my surname was used on the list. That way it would be Khan Ameena. And I didn’t get to K while checking the list so, I wouldn’t know.
There was a chance after all, I didn’t fail.
Word count: 162. This story is in response to Flash Fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge where each week we are provided a picturw and are to write a 75-175word on it. Thank you for this week’s photo @Grant-Sud
I opened the notification on my phone to see a huge brown coffee mug with various calligraphic inscriptions adorning it. Sitting on top of the mug was a rose-colored round lensed sunshades.
I didn’t need to see the name of the sender, it had to be my best friend Sadie. Under the picture was a text which read- “I got these as Maud’s birthday gift. Cool huh?” Maud was Sadie’s sister.
I paused for a moment. Sadie loved coffee, Maud hated it; Sadie adored sunshades, Maud couldn’t wear it because her eyesight was myopic. So why would Sadie buy that for Maud?
Then it clicked. They were sisters, they were used to sharing things, Sadie was killing two birds with one stone. She’d conform to the social contract of gift giving, by getting her sister Maud, what she knew would eventually come back to her.
I didn’t know if I should admire my best friend’s smartness or fear for my own upcoming birthday gift.
word count: 164. This story is in response to flash fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge, hosted by Priceless Joy. Thank you for this week’s picture @shivamt25
Is there any poetry lover here who noticed the “Sadie and Maud” reference? 😁