FFfAW: Beauty in the strangest of places

FFfAW: Beauty in the strangest of places

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Footy and Foodie. Thank you for our photo prompt!

From inside the rubble that had once been her home, the small girl looked up into the sky. The sunset had turned the clouds pink and was somehow hauntingly beautiful. Of course, it was quite possible that the colour change was due to the fires of war but she refused to think about that.

The once quiet neighbourhood had finally succumbed to the war that ravaged the country. The bombs had struck ripping both home and family from the young girl that was now staring at the sky.

It seemed strange that she was smiling, but sometimes nature was beautiful.

Written for flash fiction for aspiring writers

SPF: Hawkeye

SPF: Hawkeye

203 06 June 18th 2017

Many thought that the eagle resting on the gate was a simple ornament. However, if you look very closely you would see that this ‘statue’ would blink. It was not a statue at all, nor was it any bird we are familiar with. No, this was a mythological creature not unlike a gryphon. The actual name of this being was a Hawkeye.

The Hawkeye had been summoned many years ago when people still believed in the old gods and their ways. The owner of the house had summoned it so that it would be able to keep him safe and act like a guard dog would in modern times.

The owner was long gone but the Hawkeye had remained even though it did not fly down and attack anybody you perceived as a threat. His master was gone, so he silently kept watch.

He should have returned to the void. But, there was a curiosity about him that kept him watching. He was amused by the people changing their beliefs and forgetting everything that had once been taught.

The Hawkeye knew that the old gods would be angry and seek revenge.

He was going to be watching when it happened.

Written for Sunday photo fiction

FFfAW: The big house

FFfAW: The big house

This week’s photo prompt is provided by The Magicsticgoldenrose. Thank you for our photo prompt!

During my years of growing up, all I wanted was to go to the big house. I had met the Prince and he was truly the man of my dreams. I had many romantic notions that he would love me too and everything would be perfect the day we were married.

Looking back, I realise that I was young and naïve. The Prince loved nobody but himself and I was merely a trophy wife. In my heart of hearts, I still loved him, and my craving for him would be never-ending.

Unrequited love hurts.

The big house became my prison.

Written for flash fiction for aspiring writers

The pusher (200 words)

The pusher (200 words)

This is a story inspired by the idea that there is a serial killer on the loose in Manchester who pushes people into canals.

As the urban myth grew into headline news, it got my full attention. I loved the fact that I was given a name; an identity whispered by many and feared by some. I like the way that I could always be the enemy of the people while at the same time I gave them friendship. Friendship and confidence. The people of Manchester loved me.

My strikes were seemingly random which is how I managed to evade detection for such a long time. Not that they had identified me now but suspicions were growing.

It was not like I planned the killings. These people just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Watching them slide into the murky waters to disappear was enough to sate my appetite.

The thing was, I had been such a part of their lives for so long that I was certain I was not going to be separated from my friends. I was the one they went to if they wanted a good time, or if they needed a shoulder to cry on. I was everything to them. I was hiding in plain sight, feeling invincible.

Guessed who I am?

Yes. Alcohol.

SPF: The great game

SPF: The great game

SPF - June 11th 2017

She had made a bet. Probably a very stupid one but she had made it all the same. She was overconfident and had underestimated opposition when she sat down announcing the start of play.

Her opponent smiled at her as he made the first move. He was not completely confident, to be honest, but he wanted to avert some form of disaster. The choice of play was taken away from him because everything was under her rules. Still, he was going to play to the best of his abilities.

At the beginning of the game, it would have been believed that she was the winner. Every single sign pointed to her having domination by the end of the game. She could picture herself running through those wheat fields in celebration.

However, as these things often do, the game started to turn around. The opposition didn’t seem as insecure as was once believed. Their leader played with some masterful moves and twisted the game to such a point that nobody knew who would win.

When the play was over, Theresa May just stared in horror at the fallen chess pieces. She was still the winner but had lost everything she had.

Written for Sunday photo fiction

FFfAW: Discovery

FFfAW: Discovery

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Pamela S. Canepa. Thank you Pamela for our photo prompt!

When Frederick slipped down the bank of the long dry riverbed we all feared the worst. After all, it was a long fall and we knew the bottom was covered in large and jagged rocks. We were both surprised and relieved when we heard his voice calling to us. He told us we had to come down immediately.

Eagerly, we all made our way down the slope until we were standing on the rocks. He had landed safely after becoming snagged on a tree and noticed the source of the river had been covered by a stone.

Together we pushed it out of the way and rejoiced. The village was going to have fresh water once again.

Written for flash fiction for aspiring writers

SPF: Time stood still

SPF: Time stood still

09 C E Ayr 04 June 2017© C E Ayr

It was a day the young couple had been eagerly anticipating. Joseph was due to return home from his latest tour of duty. It did being an incredible six months since they had last seen each other. It was hard to keep their newly wedded bliss when you are in separate countries. Not only that, of course, but you were always afraid of a knock at the door to tell you that your loved one was never coming home.

The day his homecoming became a reality she arrived early at the airport hopping about from 1 foot to another. Tabatha could hardly believe her luck as she watched the army members coming through the door and heading towards the baggage carousel.

When she spotted him there was no stopping her. Even though the area was restricted for passengers only she could not stop herself running to pounce on the man she loved. His bag and passport fell to the floor as he eagerly returned the embrace.

The couple felt like time had stood still for them both. In a way, it had. You see, there was a consequence of crossing into the forbidden zone and that meant becoming a statue.

Written for Sunday photo fiction