Flash Fiction: Coincidence

Flash Fiction: Coincidence

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“My son is missing”

Within minutes, Parkland Forest was thronged by Law enforcement officials- tents were set up and search parties, dispatched. D.I Lucy and her partner D.S Fenworthy were seated in one of the tents, across a woman with dishevelled brown hair and tear stained cheeks. She was fidgeting in her chair, looking from one detective to the other.

Can you please take us through everything that’s happened, Miss Jerome?” It wasn’t a request on D.I Lucy’s part.
You can call me Susan,” she answered in a low voice and began to talk the detectives, somewhat calmly, through every detail of the trip, up until the moment she couldn’t find her 8 year old son.

At D.I Lucy’s request, Susan got up to get the detectives a picture of Jake, the missing boy, giving the detectives time to converse.

She obviously looks distressed“, said D.I Lucy, “and notice how she chokes whenever she mentions Jake by name.”

“Yes, but boss”, added D.S Fenworthy, “I haven’t been in this department long, but I have never met the mother of a missing kid who didn’t lash out during interview, wondering what on earth we were doing seated instead of out there looking for their kids”.

Nice observation”, remarked D.I Lucy.

Susan came into the tent after a few mintes and with her was the picture of a young boy- raven black hair, brown skin with a smiling face. She handed over the picture to D.I Lucy, and for someone who was a pro at her job, she couldn’t mask the shock on her face. D.I Lucy looked from the picture, to the woman standing in front of her. The recognition of the face in the picture registering in her mind and the words Fenworthy had just said, playing in her head. Susan didn’t lash out earlier because this wasn’t her first time being in the situation; she’s been through it before and knows how the investigation goes.

Miss Jerome?” Blurted out D.I Lucy
At that moment, tears descended across Susan’s face as she nodded in affirmation.
Yes,” her voice was breaking, “Jake’s twin brother got missing three years ago and was never found.”

D.S Fenworthy looked to his partner in shock and then asked the mother, “what was the date?”
24th of March.
D.S Fenworthy immediately looked to his phone although he already knew the answer. Today’s date was also 24th of march.
That’s one heck of a coincidence.


wrote a flash fiction about two weeks ago with the characters D.I Lucy and D.S Fenworthy, and I loved the idea of writing a story surrounding detectives ad partners so I thought I’d write another one again. And I’m sorry, but that is where the story ends, it’s  not a series and there’s won’t be a continuation. Though I might occasionally write on the two characters.

The above image is courtesy of Scary Mommy.com

Flash Fiction: The slithering guest

Flash Fiction: The slithering guest

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“You know the drill, so let’s get moving,” ordered Big Sis, to nods and stamps of the ten year olds assigned to her.

“Batch A, head North.”
“Batch B, East, and mind the slopes.”
“Batch C, continue west and be wary…”

Whatever batch C was supposed to be wary of, nobody found out. Little Jim interrupted by pointing with trembling hands, towards the dead-beat car which had been in that forest for as long as anyone could remember.

Em, big sis“, he was saying “There’s a snake on the car.”

Big sis smiled, then said “Is that so Jim, just like there was a roach in yesterday’s dinner when you didn’t want to eat.”

Little Jim protested, joined by the other kids.

She reluctantly turned her back to the kids, to face a slithering creature on the car roof.

Big sis swayed on her feet,  before slumping to the ground with a thud so loud, it brought Big brother to the site. The kids were never more grateful to have an extra camp master.


word count: 174. This story is In response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers challenge. Where, each week we are provided with a picture and are to write a  75-175 word story in it. A big Thank you to @Tim Livingston for providing us with this week’s photo.

Flash Fiction: The Piano Man

Flash Fiction: The Piano Man

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The piano was bundled up and sent for forensics with an “urgent” note attached to it. Meanwhile, D.I Lucy and her new Partner, D.S Fenworthy surveyed the crime scene.

What’s your take?”

D.S Fenworthy replied without missing a beat, “never have I seen the crime scene of a horrific bloody murder without even a speck of dirt.”

“The killer cleans up nicely huh?” Jumped in Lucy.

“I’ll say.” Replied Fenworthy, shuddering inwards. “It was a bloody kill. The coroner estimates, the victim should have lost over 3 pints of blood, if not more from injuries she sustained.”

“and not a drop is present here for the CSI to work on,” concluded Lucy.

They both looked around in silence at the spotless parlour, until D.S fenworthy finally uttered what they both feared,

“you think it’s him again, boss?”

well, we haven’t received a package yet, which is his signature, so“, She shrugged, sounding hopeful.

Just then, a voice called from outside,

“Boss, we found a package”. 

D.S Lucy shuddered at the thought of its contents. 


Word count: 173. The above story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge hosted by priceless Joy, where each week we are given an image and are to write a 75-175 word story in it. It’s  been a while since I wrote on my favourite genre “crime” so I thought I’d give it a shot. Thank you very much Mike Vore for this week’s photo.

Flash Fiction: What had happened was-

Flash Fiction: What had happened was-

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Is that bleating, I hear?” Inquired Mr. Jones, whilst gripping the steering wheel.
Silence followed his question and he attributed the noise to his ears playing tricks on him. That was until, he heard the same noise again.

I may be old, but I’m not that old. What is going on?” he demanded.
Silence again. He shook his head, and turned the ignition off to face a pale looking ten year old boy, shaking at the backseat and chewing on his lips.

“Junior?” Mr. Jones raised his brow.

“What had happened was,” began junior, stammering, the goat had looked at him with such pleading eyes that he begged grandpa, to let him bring it along.

Mr. Jones wiped his palm across his forehead and at the warmth of his wife’s hand on his shoulder, swallowed the harsh retort which had sprung to his tongue.

“Well, at least goats aren’t noisy, unlike that grandpa’s parrot”, Mrs Jones joked.

Just then, screeching and squawking noises came from the car boot. All colour drained from Mr. Jones’ face.


word count: 175 words. The above story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge, where each week, we are provided with a picture and are to write a 75-175 word story in it.Thank you @majesticgoldenrose for providing us with this week’s photo. 

Flash Fiction: Beneath the steel

Flash Fiction: Beneath the steel

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Doors were slammed, curtains drawn, babies were nestled to their mother’s bosoms. Mothers looked to their husbands for comforts whilst cradling their kids, and everyone held their breaths as the sound of tires, grazing the tarred ground filled the silence.
The motorcycle gang had arrived.

Their shouts could be heard from a distance as they ravaged the now empty street. But that day was different. Rather than peruse the streets and return to wherever they came from, the gang got down from their bikes- A first.

Another first was that one spoke; I never heard a more angry voice than that, sent chills down my spine.
“They were sick and tired of seeing the corpses of female babies. The infanticide was enough, and the parents of the next girl they see would wish they never saw the face of earth.”

And just as they came, they were gone. I was seven then and didn’t fully understand, but sure enough, there was a lot more girl naming ceremonies and pink baby showers from then on.


word count: 174. This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. Each week we are provided with a picture and are to write a 75-175 story on it. Thank you @Sunayana for providing us with this week’s picture.

Flash Fiction: A little kindness

Flash Fiction: A little kindness

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Mike rarely dwelt in self-pity but that day was an exception. He stared at the sorry looking state of the car in front of him, blaming the kindness of his heart for ever offering to fix it in the first place.

“Not too bad eh,” a voice roused him from his shock.

Mike took a good look at the, em, “car”. It looked like something dragged out of a fast and furious wreckage and he could have sworn the car was sprouting weeds.

“Nothing a little Mike magic can’t fix,” he smiled back, getting a grip on himself, under the eager and kind eyes of the car owner.

“Here goes nothing,” Mike murmured and began. It took a few days but he did it, feeling a sense of accomplishment. The car owner was so overjoyed with the end result, the words that dropped out of his mouth were, “I cannot wait to see what you’ld do on the other two.”

Mike laughed nervously, hoping the car owner was only joking. 


Word count: 171. The above story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge hosted by priceless Joy. Thank you very much Mike Vore for providing us with this week’s photo. 

Flash Fiction: Not alone 

Flash Fiction: Not alone 


I apologise for the inconvenience,” Chef Lee was saying, as customers shuffled out of the restaurant. A number of them upset and vividly expressing their displeasure at his abrupt closure in broad daylight.

Chef Lee stepped out to put a lock on the door having cleared the restaurant of staff and customers alike, only to find a young man with a sour-milk expression, blocking the entrance.
Why?” The youngster asked.

Chef Lee sighed, then replied, “I told you. My neighbour, Muhammad’s family, has been detained unwarranted at the airport and I’m going to support him”. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me“, he added, moving out of the youngster’s way.

The youngster smirked, “what can you do there.” It wasn’t a question, but still, Lee smiled and replied, “reassure him that he is not alone.”


Word count: 133. This story is in response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers photo prompt Challenge. Thank you very much @singledust for providing us with this week’s picture. 

Flash Fiction: 4 mates, 1 tree

Flash Fiction: 4 mates, 1 tree

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James huffed and puffed, bursting into beads of sweat under the 42 degree summer heat as he and his mates tried to pull away a fallen tree which had obstructed the estate’s gate.

“Has the tree gotten heavier or is it just me?” He pondered, not daring to take a break lest he became too weak to resume pulling. Eventually, his tired part won. He dropped the rope and turned to face his mates only to realise the source of the tree’s extra weight.

His mates hands were long free from the tree’s rope and their attention was fixated on something entirely else.
Stunned and mad, James exclaimed, “wow, why don’t you just grab a seat and a lemonade each. James is here, he’ll do all the work”.

They mumbled their apologies while he headed towards the source of their amusement.
A cockfight! Seriously?“, he shook his head, “you guys are weirdos“.
Isaiah smiled, “takes one to know one”.


Word count: 157 words. This story is in response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring writers photo prompt challenge where each week, we are provided a photo to write a 75-175 word story on. Thank you very much Shivangi Singh for this week’s picture. 

Flash Fiction: To eat or not?

Flash Fiction: To eat or not?

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“Ehh, I don’t come to visit you for a while and this happens.” Aunt Bose wailed, barely descended from the ferry board. “Where did all your meat go?”

“Good to see you too Aunty,” Vivian began,

“No, don’t greet me. Turn, let me see you well”.

Vivian succumbed to her aunt’s protests, turning around so her aunt could view her properly and pretended to be oblivious to the side eye she was getting from the other arrivals.

With great difficulty, Vivian managed to draw her aunt’s attention away from her physical appearance and towards her car.

“Good thing I’m here.” Aunt Bose declared, “God forbid you return home looking like skin on bones.”

“But Aunty,” Vivian teased, “I am working to become a model.”

“Well, It better be a model weighing 70 kg because that is what you are going to be before I leave,” then she added, “70, at least.”

“You could die by eating too much”, Vivian muttered,

“And you would die if you don’t,” her aunt countered.

Vivian sighed knowing her Aunt was right.


Word count: 175 words. This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo promot challenge where each week we are provided a picture and are to write a story on it using 75-175 words. Thank you very much Louise for providing us with this week’s image.

Flash Fiction: The Impromptu Vacation

Flash Fiction: The Impromptu Vacation

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When Adam suggested they take an impromptu vacation, Zendaya was not expecting rugged sloppy hills and mosquito filled atmosphere as part of the package.

“But honey”, Adam said for about the dozenth time since they’d arrived Pierrah Hills, “we get to watch the sunrise from the comfort of our bed”.

“You mean the mat-covered, stone-laden ground we would sleep on?” Zendaya retorted.
Adam sighed, this was going to be a long week.

They drifted asleep that night to the sound of flies buzzing above their heads mixed with the soft whooshing sound of tree leaves enhanced by the silence of the night.
Adam was the first to awaken the next morning, gawking at the majestic beauty of the sun as it emerged beyond the distant hills. A grumbling sound from behind interruped him.
He turned, “Morning Hun, how was your night?”

Zendaya stared as if he’d just confessed to murder.
“How was my night he asks, well there was nothing good about it if you’d like to know”.
Adam sighed, five more days to go.


word count: 175. The above story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. Each week we are given a picture to write a 75-175 word story on. Thank you very much @Joy Pixely for this week’s picture.