Fiction

Friday Flash Fiction

#FRIDAYPHRASES

#FridayPhrases were initiated by @amicgood.  The idea is to tweet a story or poem within 140 characters, follow the hashtag and retweet the ones you like.  Life gets busy for all of us. What I love about #FP is that is makes me feel creative and productive even if I don’t have too much time. Hope to see some of yours soon, but until then, here are some my recent ones:

15.11.13

TreeShe read curled up in the nook of a willow. Sunshine fell through its leaves. She saw only the light & shadows of the story #FP (For @raishimi)

Even as a baby he’d been fearless. As a man his mother despaired about his foolish bravery. He was the hero they’d all been waiting for #FP

She burned with anticipation when she saw him. He’d been her childhood crush. She’d waited 19 years to meet him. He would not escape #FP

22.11.13

Ruby red lips, sky-scraper heels and a razor-cut suit. Skilled negotiator, master manipulator. The boardroom vixen always gets her way #FP

The day she died he withdrew from the world. From then on he lived in his dreams, conjuring her up at will. Happy, deluded lover #FP

The wind swept her hair into a beehive as they ran hand in hand through the city. She tasted of cherries. A perfect day between strangers #FP

FLASH! FRIDAY

Here’s my entry (and the photo prompt) for today’s Flash! Friday competition hosted by @postupak:

Family Ties (Photo prompt/22.11.13)

By Schuco
By Schuco

This is not a peaceful place. The high walls and the barbed wire are reminiscent of a prison. It is in fact his father’s memory, which traps him. And those burnished robes. To me, they look so burdensome; I know he feels their weight too.

We have loved each other all our lives. In me he discovered his joy and peace. His family shunned him when they found out, so I became his family. I cooked for him and washed his clothes. I bathed his brow when he was sick. I used to dream of the tinkling laughs of our future children.

Last winter his father was killed, violently, in this place. So he took the robes, as his father had always wanted, to bring his mother comfort. One day, the old woman will die and he will come back to me. Until then, I will wait here patiently, quiet as a church mouse.

– ENDS –

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