Flash Fiction: The Ritual

Flash Fiction: The Ritual

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I watched in mild amusement as Rayna read her list:
            Rose water, check
            matches, Check.

She then urged me to shut my eyes unless “you don’t mind seeing what you cant un-see” she joked.
I opened them to find Rayna wrapped in two pieces of Ankara cloth. One around her chest and the other covering her waist to mid-thigh. She raised a finger to her lips motioning me to silence- The ritual had begun.

Rayna encircled “the guitar” with salt and ginger powder. Next, she sprinkled rose water on it seven times and finally, she lighted the matches and set It to flames. The embers rose, dancing wildly as a grim smile formed on Rayna’s face.
            “There!” She exclaimed “I’m rid of the devilish thing.”

“Where on earth did you get this idea from?” I asked, curious.
“Well, Google of course.” She replied causally, adding “you can find out anything on there”.

“Uh-huh”, I nodded. Wondering what on earth the world was turning into.


word count: 165 words. This story is in response to flash fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge hosted by Priceless Joy where we are given a photo each week and are required to write a 75-175 words story on it. You’re welcome to join the fun, simply click on the highlighted link above. Thank you Pixabay for this week’s photo.

Flash Fiction: Foul play?

Flash Fiction: Foul play?

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“What on God’s earth are you two doing?” Grandma demanded
“Get your heads outta my car!”
Uncles Jack and Paul, wriggled out from under the car and stood at attention under grandma’s scrutiny.
“Well?”

They’d gone to visit uncle Paul’s future father-in-law when the car stopped working midway, leaving them to walk through long muddy tracks to get to the house. They looked like a pair of scrawny adults after a mud play by the time they arrived and Paul’s fiancée declared “there is no way you’re meeting my father in this crappy state“. 
Both uncles Paul and Jack are convinced someone played a cruel joke on them and they were determined to find evidence of foul play.

“Don’t you want to know who we suspect?”, uncle Jack questioned Grandma.
She shifted her weight on one hip, sifted her fingers through graying hair, took a deep breath and said,
“you two- left my car- alone- in the middle of Lord knows where?”.
I didn’t wait around to see what happened next.


Word count: 171. This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge where we write a 70-175 word story surrounding the provided photo prompt. This week’s image is courtesy of Pixabay. 

Flash Fiction: Evil eye…

Flash Fiction: Evil eye…

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“Hey, that’s enough”, he screamed.
Apparently, I’d been staring at the sunflowers for so long I might as well cast an evil eye on them.
“But they are so pretty”, I retorted. He came and stood between the flowers and I which was preposterous comsidering I towered over him in height.

“I am Sara by the way”. I said
“And I’m Amir. Please lower your gaze.. evil eye”. He pleaded, seeing as I wasn’t budging.
“Okay, okay”, I backed down.

Amir had sterling gray eyes with scruffy blonde hair, of which a few strands fell over his forehead. He wore plaid shirt and grey shorts which were pulled up to his navel. He looked like a cartoon character but in an appealing way.

Want to be friends?” I asked.
“sure” he replied after a pause, “as long as you don’t stare at me the way you do those flowers”
We both laughed.
“first things first though”, I remarked looking him over, “we need to lower those shorts to your waist for starters”.


word count: 173 words. *this is an edited version of the original piece I posted a while ago, I didn’t like how it turned out so I tweaked it a bit. Thank you Priceless Joy for hosting this challenge and helping us to practice writing.* This post is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge. 

Flash Fiction: For a moment…

Flash Fiction: For a moment…

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For a while, her ear drums were selectively deaf to the sound of motor tires grazing the gravel roads and the incessant honking by impatient drivers. She watched at a depressing angle, focusing her gaze on the crowd of teenagers playing away their worries. Their worn leather ball being tackled swiftly across the field and red soil swirling above their ankles with each pass.

Their black and coffee colored skins glistened with sweat under the summer sun. She grinned to herself as a bunch of them tried to wipe the salty water streaming down their foreheads while at the same time keeping the ball in check- an act they failed at.

A Black-headed Gull flew past her 3rd floor window, distracting the view in front of her. How easy it was to get carried away by hopeless wishing. She gazed around at the emptiness of her home and said a silent prayer on the kids who unknowingly put a smile on her widowed face every evening.
It was time to shut herself once again to the rest of the world.

The above image is courtesy of Pinterest

Flash Fiction: Mommy’s day out

Flash Fiction: Mommy’s day out

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“Remember, be-have!”, Christine warned the kids right before they stepped into the restaurant. She marched over to the counter with Mark where they requested a menu for their table.

Christine had barely slumped into a seat when the terrifying sound of “mama” came to her ears. She smiled at her husband, “so much for behaving”.
“What happened sweetie?”, she asked, putting on her mummy face as one of the four approached her with teary eyes.

“Who’s your favorite child”, her teary four year old asked.
Experience with three previous kids had taught Christine there was no right answer to the question. She threw Mark a sympathetic look. The sides of her lip turned upward as she watched her husband handle the situation gallantly.

“Once this come”, she said, pointed to a growing bump, “my garage is officially out of business”. Mark couldn’t contain his laughter as he remembered that was the same thing she said after their 3rd. 

“We’ll see” he teased, knowing although the kids drove her nuts, she wouldn’t have it any other way.


Word count: 176 words. Thank you Etol Bagam for this week’s picture. This is my submission to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. Each week, we get a picture to write a 150 give/take 25 word story on. You’re welcome to participate, the more the merrier. Just click HERE.

Flash Fiction: Man of Repetition

Flash Fiction: Man of Repetition

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It’s the same everyday. Uncle Jim would walk out the door with his 1960’s suitcase and old man cap. Lock the door and turn the knob twice, look around to make sure the road is clear, then turn the knob a third time. I always wondered why he did that, grandma says, “that’s just his way of doing things”.

He’d walk across the street, say hello to grandma, hand me a sweet and ruffle my hair with the biggest smile on his face while I pretend to drown myself In a book. He’d return to his side of the street, wipe the bicycle seat three times, seat on it and head to wherever he goes off to every morning.

Uncle Jim was a man of repetition and that baffled me. He’d always do the same things a specific number of times and I asked Grandma why, as usual, she said “that’s just his way of doing things”. I’ve resolved to accept Grandma’s answer until I can come up with a better one myself through mere observation.


Word count: 175. This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge. Each week, we are given a photo prompt and we’re to write a 150 (+/- 25) word story surrounding the picture. This week’s image is courtesy of Pixabay.

Flash Fiction: quick to judge

Flash Fiction: quick to judge

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Princess, that’s what they called her. It didn’t take more than a glance to figure out how the name came about. She walked with the elegance of a Victoria fashion model; her snow-white hair accentuated the pale tone of her skin. One could refer to her as delicate.

Dawn on the other hand, was of a caramel brown skin tone in contrast to her sister’s. Her hair was as dark as Princess’s was white. It took a second glance to notice the hazel green eyes hidden underneath long lashes. And more than a few glances to notice Dawn when Princess was in the view- a crime, of which I was guilty.

The fair was over; Princess and Dawn headed for their car when a group of children surrounded them. I was stunned to see both sisters act in the same kindly manner, grinning from cheek to cheek, gently ruffling the kids’ hair. It made me wonder if I was quick to judge. What if Dawn actually enjoyed being in the shadows…


word count: 170. Thank God WordPress decided to bring back word count 😀 . This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring writers photo prompt challenge. Thank you Sonya for presenting us with this week’s eye-catching picture.

Flash Fiction: Sweet sweet revenge…

Flash Fiction: Sweet sweet revenge…

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Swoosh went the swing of her paintbrush splattering it’s content unapologetically. Lila dipped the brush blindly into one of the dozen paint buckets beside her just as she had done for over 15 minutes.

Relieved, she stepped back to view her masterpiece- something felt missing. Lila grabbed an innocent basket of cacti and dropped it on the roof of her project. Ah! Now that’s better, she declared.

She rummaged her pockets for the permanent marker she brought and completed her masterpiece with a few words-
“To Ed,
You can keep your ring, she’ll keep her daddy’s name.

Signed: your soon-to-be ex wife’s best friend.

Lila turned to leave when she sighted her best friend being too cosy with a man who wasn’t Ed, her husband. Doubt crept up on Lila, what if Ed wasn’t the reason for the divorce after all. But it was too late to undo the damage she had done. 


Word count: 152 words. This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge. The above image is courtesy of Pixabay.com
P.S- the line “you can keep your ring, I’ll keep my daddy’s name” which is the original wording is a phrase I got from Miranda Lambert.

 

Flash Fiction: The relapse

Flash Fiction: The relapse

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Aron walked in to find his wife, Nina, passed out on the dinner table. The bouquet he was holding fell involuntarily to the ground. The house was dark except for a flicker of light from a candle and an odor of Alcohol mixed with something smoky filled the atmosphere.

He shook Nina gently whilst trying to maintain his composure. It took a few minutes after she regained consciousness for reality to dawn on her. A distraught Nina clutched herself, trembling and sobbing.

Aron steadied her as she buried her tear stained face in his chest. They maintained that position long enough for Nina’s state of mind to regain some normalcy. She gazed into the eyes of the man who had always been her rock through her numerous down spirals,
  “I want this baby Aron”, she spoke, placing one hand on her barely visible bump “I- I need help”.

He hugged the mother of his unborn child a little tighter… There was nothing more to say.


Word count: 165 words. This story is in response to Flash Fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. Thank you Pixabay.com for this week’s photo.

Flash Fiction: The chrysalis

Flash Fiction: The chrysalis

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“What are you staring at?”

Nothing

“Don’t nothing me”

“Alright, fine! I was watching to see when this chrysalis would open up.”

“Seriously?”, Janice laughs.

Naah, I’m just kidding. I told you, It was nothing.”

“Alright girl, I’m going out. See you later.”

“Bye”

The sound of the door closing was a little loud for the empty house. Ally, went back to her nothing. She knew her sister, Janice, wouldn’t get it so she didn’t bother explaining.

Ally had always been fascinated by butterflies. She turned her gaze towards the hanging chrysalis and wondered when it would open for the butterfly to emerge. To see a creature as dull as a caterpillar transition into one of the most beautiful creatures was a fascination gifted to only a few. It reminded Ally that humans weren’t much different, and everyone could blossom.

Ally sighed as she realized, the cocoon of the chrysalis was the same as the previous day, no changes. Before leaving, Ally whispered in it’s direction.
          “Please don’t emerge without me”


word count: 171. This story is in response to flash fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge. Each week, a photo is given and we’re to write a 150 (+/- 25) word story inspired by the image. Thank you so much TJ Paris for this week’s photo. Butterflies are a beauty.