Walk Home | 100 Days of Flash Fiction – Day #4

100 Days of Flash Fiction, Short Stories & Flash Fictions

Prompt:

‘Walking back home along the rim of the galaxy’


A bed of thorny white roses lay strewn across the garden; the flowers spilled over the walls and the vines coiled in and around empty bricks, thick and piercing. The evening sun threw itself across the leaves, turning them transparent. Their veins suddenly rose to the surface, like a diver swimming to the top of the ocean’s surface, the frothing waves matching the tone of the flowers.

Two young boys stood, arms crossed, shoulders hunched, loitering outside what was usually a post-40 dominated neighbourhood. Their slumping bodies moved secretly, exchanging glances and hushed but cool tones as they slipped joints between their fingers and sipped in the smoke, clouds enveloping their faces.

One blasted reggae out of a boombox larger than him, and slid next to me, an intruder. The roses quivered under the weight of the music, and closed up for protection. I tip-toed over them but was grabbed by the waist of the second boy and saw the sun vanish to the other side of the world. He looked into my eyes and told me he saw the milkyway. I told him he must have seen the chocolate. He laughed, and didn’t stop.

One of the roses coiled itself around my foot, brown turning pink, and threw me all the way back home. As I was being thrown, all I heard was his laughter echo around me.

Asia House | 100 Days of Flash Fiction – Day #3

100 Days of Flash Fiction, Short Stories & Flash Fictions

Prompt

There was a ring in his teacup

**Swapping the ‘him’ for ‘her’ because it feels more natural to me!


It’s the warmest things in life that bring you the greatest joy – the sun shining on your face, a hot plate of your favourite food and the steamy embrace of a large mug of tea. Mingxia had all of these, as she sat on the front steps of her porch. The summer sun gently rolled over her fried rice and dumplings as the steam of her matcha slowly rose to join it. The pungent garlic and bitter tea made a fitting combination for today’s sunny yet equally cloudy sky, she thought to herself.

Equations | 100 Days of Flash Fiction – Day #2

100 Days of Flash Fiction, Short Stories & Flash Fictions

Prompt

He twisted fate between his fingers


Jacob Atkins sat amongst the wading sea of children at Gateway Primary. Assembly was a dull dreary ritual that the school conducted to deliver important messages to the children, and make them sing songs about being a good person and other such rubbish. Today, however, was slightly different. The messages had been gathered throughout the year and saved for this particular assembly on the last day of school (hopefully ever, he thought). Jacob never much cared for primary-school level education. But could he truly be blamed? The teachers were dull and uninspiring. The curriculum was basic knowledge, all leading up to one exam which he passed easily yesterday.

Chaos | 100 Days of Flash Fiction – Day #1

100 Days of Flash Fiction, Short Stories & Flash Fictions

Prompt

Time travel, a bookmark, the angel gabriel.


‘You’re dead’.

‘Angel Gabriel, how did I die?’

‘Your mother was Hera, your father, Zeus.’

‘So they made me die?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s so dark here.’

‘Use the light from my wings, follow me to the Underworld.’

Butterfly – Flash Fiction #2

Short Stories & Flash Fictions

This week I decided to take inspiration from other prompts, and head over to BookFox for 50 Flash Fiction Prompts. It’s great if you’re stuck for ideas, since they’re categorised by genre which makes it so helpful! I went for this prompt this time, under Microprompts:

Write about the dramatic moment a butterfly emerges from its cocoon.

The Visit – Flash Fiction #1

Short Stories & Flash Fictions

The house was as it always was; the concoctions of must and chipping paint gave it its usual pungent smell, while the ever-expanding cobwebs decorated the plain walls nicely. Like the residents, the spiders themselves were scarcely seen, however, meaning that the space between the walls were often left blank. An empty home was a strange sight indeed. No family, no dining table, no white picket fence here.