Thank you as always to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers. If you’d like to join, please click here to read the instructions and add your contribution.
And, I hate to add this qualification, but I’m on vacation and while I will try to read everyone’s contribution, I apologize if it’s not in a timely manner.
You and me. Us.
Are there any stronger words? Two against all! You and me forever!
We huddled in that slight crevice, time and time again. You despised going home, especially on Fridays when your Dad’s paycheck bought liters of cheap gin and an ugly anger that marked bruises on your pretty face.
And me, my home was a sarcophagus, cold, where my parents stole to their own caves, not acknowledging me or each other.
You and me, us, holding hands, reprieve.
Us lasted a long time.
Until time threaded its skeletal fingers around your wrist stealing you away.
Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge. June 22, 2017 prompt:In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that involves a dream. This action could have happened while awake, such as daydreaming, or make up a dream when asleep. Go where the prompt leads as it could be a nightmare or just fond memories or ambition.
This is #2 and fictional, although a very similar theme to the first.
You would never have guessed that I would be the one carrying your banner long after you’d gone. But I’ve always been the one to feel too much and wish too much and dream too much and miss people long after, when others have moved on their faces directed forward. I never knew your dreams, but maybe they’ll interweave with mine and carry on just the same. There will be peace when we’re done.
Mornings when climbing from bed felt literal, the day ahead, a craggy mountain. The hike did not change; it did not grow easier, but understanding crept in, a gray whiskered intruder, stalking shadows, pointing at mortality with a boney finger.
If thoughts are as bad as deeds, then Leah knows she’s karmically going to a really bad place.
Ever since Tony yelled viciously at the children, making Nellie cry body-racking sobs, she’s considered ways to leave him . . . or kill him.
But he’s constantly around, claiming to work from home. He doesn’t trust her. He thinks she’s going to run off with some man. What man? A bloke at the shop?
He watches her all the time, checks her mobile, even hacked into her email. He labels her best friend, Jane, a lesbo because Jane doesn’t react to his “charms.” Did he have some once? He must have. Once. Or she wouldn’t be here.
“Babe, fry me some mushrooms,” he says.
She almost says “no” because neither she nor the children like them. And, then she remembers the article warning about the deathcap mushrooms.