This week’s photo prompt is provided by Pamela S. Canepa. Thank you Pamela!
“Every lighted window represents at least one life,” he said to nobody in particular as he lounged on the balcony of the hotel opposite. He could have told you exactly how many windows he was talking about because observation was one of his strong points.
His attention, however, was focused on one window only and the shadowed form walking about within the room inside. His heart sped up as he watched the unsuspecting female get undressed before climbing into bed.
The light went out.
Reaching down, he lifted the sniper gun. Now to make sure the light was out permanently.
Word count: 100
Written for Flash fiction for aspiring writers
Life had been going so well and heal that fateful day. The day that turned me into an Agoraphobic. I mean, up until that point, my life was everything I’d ever dreamt about. I had a well-paid job doing exactly what I loved to do, my boyfriend was everything I had ever wished for, and I had a wonderful new apartment overlooking the river.
Compare that to now.
I had not seen the outside of my apartment for months. I had lost my job a few weeks ago, and my boyfriend just about the same time. There was no telling how long I was going to keep this apartment and the thought of leaving made me physically sick.
So, you are probably wondering what made me this way? Well, the answer is simple. One day I just happened to glance out the window as a man was manhandling a woman over the edge of the bridge. As she fell I heard myself screaming and that is when the shadow of a man looked up with those piercing green eyes.
He saw me.
I have not dared to leave the apartment since witnessing a murder. Doors and phones remained forever unanswered.
Written for Sunday photo fiction
Hello everybody and welcome to another Writing Wednesday. The idea of this is I am going to write about whatever subject has inspired me this week.
Everybody is welcome to join in, of course, and you can do that by either writing something in the comments or giving me a pingback to your work. (It goes without saying that you should feel free to share your work if you get the urge to do so!)
What am I going to use as my inspiration this week?
The word… Smile
I have always been told that my smile is pretty. I can’t tell you whether this is true or not because you very rarely smile at yourself with any meaning. In the mirror it is often just for a quick check of your makeup or clothing before you go anywhere, and, in a picture, a smile is a natural reaction to having a lens shoved in your face.
Mind you, it is always a compliment if someone tells you that because they are basically telling you that you are pretty, and, therefore, accepted. It is a strange idea that society has built up that you need to be pretty in order to be an accepted human being. Especially if you happen to be female.
So, it has ended up, my smile is simply part of my make up and is generally painted on to hide the issues underneath my skin. Nobody needs to know the battles I am having with myself on a daily basis.
I am a warrior and my smile has become my warpaint.
This week’s photo prompt is provided by shivamt25. Thank you for our photo prompt!
It was amazing how hard work it was getting a picture of looking relaxed while on holiday. Susan had spent ages arranging flowers so they look just right before she had positioned her husband, Alan, in the frame.
This was the days before digital cameras why invented so you had one take and you hope for the best until they were developed. “Come on now man, we are here on holiday and we need to show our friends just how wonderful it is out here.”
Weeks later, when she angrily viewed the end result she realised he hadn’t been smiling.
Word count: 100 words
Written for flash fiction for aspiring writers
Nothing could beat the surge of water beneath you when you woke up. I couldn’t believe my luck that we had managed to buy this house when it came on the market. It was fantastic in every single way because you could hear the flow of the water without the rocking sensation you got traveling at sea.
Seasickness was something that always grabbed a hold of me whenever I was on water. I had been incredibly disappointed because I absolutely loved the water but couldn’t enjoy it when I was too busy throwing up.
This house was perfect for me because I could hear the water surging beneath my bed and it gave me a great feeling of comfort. I had chosen all the decorations myself and my husband had just provided money.
Nobody guessed the way we had become so rich so quickly. I thought it was blindingly obvious but it was one of those secrets that were away seemed to somehow remained hidden.
Of course, wanting to be near the water was not the only reason this house was so perfect. I mean, where else was I going to hide the bodies from my husband’s hit man jobs?
Written for Sunday photo fiction