Keren knew he was going to dump her when Drew gave her a single rose. He didn’t speak, merely handed it to her and walked away wearing his usual smug smile.
Bastard, she thought. In their overly long on-and-off relationship he’d repeated this process four times, making her despise roses.. This time, she decided, would be the last. At least she hoped.
In frustration she ground the rose under her foot, crushing it. The thorns cut her in four places. She met her future husband in the emergency room. He only ever gave her tiger lilies.
Okay, I lied, it wasn’t 100 words, it was 96. I was trying to write a 6 word story but nothing came to me so I decided to try a fifty word one. I couldn’t do it. Too many words came out and I couldn’t even edit it down. So I tried adding some words to make it one-hundred. I failed at that too but I figured 96 was close enough.
This all started with reading a few pieces of flash fiction that leaned toward romance. I suck at romance. I’m not trying to be overly critical of myself, I simply know my limitations. So I picked an object normally reserved for romantic intentions and some personal experiences and wrote this piece.
I’ve never been dumped with a single rose but I do prefer tiger lilies. They last longer and they have freckles, which in my mind adds character.
The story a day September prompt today was to write not one, but three stories. There was a gallery of old photos and the instructions were to click through and pick three that caught my eye then write the stories. They didn’t have to be related but could be. It didn’t have to be about the subject’s life, only inspired by the photo. For the first picture I selected I wrote a story inspired by it. For the other two I went very literal. Enjoy!
Billy hung his head resigned. Soon it would be over and the nightmare would begin. Oh well, at least he’d enjoyed the short respite from hell. He’d known it wouldn’t last but somehow still hoped it would. Next week school started again. Why couldn’t summer be longer?
Don’t Fear The Reaper
If Bob made a mistake he would be damned so he proceeded as slowly as he could. When he was finished and the red-headed boy smiled his thanks, Bob breathed a sigh of relief. He’d dodged a bullet this day! Everyone knew gingers stole your soul if you angered them.
What Did The Fox Say?
Story one – 47
Story two – 50
Story three – 2
Why is story three so short you ask? Because the fox is sick and tired of being asked that question!
Sidenote: Since I am a ginger I can attest that story two could possibly maybe be a true story…I’m just saying, don’t tick me off lol.
Today I almost broke free. As she read I became more and more real. I could feel myself lifting from the pages and spread my wings wide in preparation. Then her doorbell rang and I was only fiction. Maybe she’ll pick up the book later and I’ll get another chance.
Write a story from the perspective of someone in a piece of art. Feel free to choose your favorite painting, but you can also use sculpture, photography, or even performance art.
These art/music prompts are hard for me. I always feel like I will be too literal with picture prompts, but sometimes that’s okay. Today I decided to go with a 50 word story again based on a spread from Entertainment Weekly about parts of Song of Fire and Ice that were left out of Game of Thrones:
Sorry for the bad photo but I took the picture from below it. I loved the way this looked when I read it so much I tore out the pages, glued them to a piece of poster board and hung it above my bedroom door (well my husband did all the work). I loved the way the pages already looked worn and how the dragon seemed almost free of the pages. Isn’t this the way a good book should be?
The prompt for day 9, found here, was not really my cup of tea. It was instrumental music. While it was nice, all it did for me was make me a little drowsy. However, the picture below was also on the page with the prompt so I decided to write a 50 word story based on it.
“The invitation stated ‘Come as you are,’” Gabriel declared drunkenly.
“Yes sir,” the attendant replied, his eyes lowered.
“Why then am I the only one showing my wings?”
“You’re the only one with wings sir.”
“You mean to tell me I’ve been consorting with humans all this time? How embarrassing.”
The person who wrote the prompt also said if the music didn’t inspire we should find another instrumental piece that works for us. Unfortunately the instrumentals I like the best are in various soundtracks and tend to invoke movie scenes for me. I’ve certainly been inspired by music though. The problem is I listen to hard rock mostly. I figured that was not what the prompt writer had in mind.
One could go crazy trying to revise a 50 word story so this one is staying exactly the way it is now.
In the air I’m tasting your perfection. I once thought you were meant to be savored. I couldn’t stop myself from touching you. Why did I think it wouldn’t hurt? I was stupid to miss it. The signs were there. Maybe I believed I was somehow special enough to be the exception to the rule.
I’ll admire you from a distance. As beautiful as you are, as sweet as you smell, bandages are expensive and cuts on my fingertips really freaken hurt. I don’t care if Valentine’s Day is coming up, next time I’m getting carnations. They don’t have thorns!
I haven’t tried to write a 100 word flash fiction piece in a while so I thought I would do so today. I finished at 99 actually! This was the result of a prompt that said to pick a song and use the first line to start your story. The song is Collective Soul – Why Pt. 2. I never did like roses. I like flowers with character, like tiger lilies, which have freckles. (Yep, biased redhead here)
Have a great weekend everyone!
P.S. Don’t forget the Six Minute Challenge tomorrow!
Update (10 minutes after posting): I edited, it’s now exactly 100 words.
You abandoned me. I felt safe and secure in your embrace and when I least expected it, you disappeared. I can’t pinpoint the moment I knew you were gone. Finding you was impossible. Trying to get you back, pointless. I almost felt guilty. Choosing between you and freedom, you never had a chance. I thought I got away. Revenge is sweet they say, and you would know. If I hadn’t lost you when I did, I wouldn’t be in this situation. Now, because of you, I’m stuck with the prince.
The prompt was to write about a shoe but I chose to write to the shoe.
“What if the clouds were actually living beings?” she asked while in the car. Nostalgia washed over me. She had outgrown the what-if game a long time ago. Most of the time she didn’t care what I thought of, well anything, so I was a little surprised. She was staring up at the sky and I could almost hear the gears turning in her head. I almost didn’t respond. I was afraid to break the spell. She turned to me with her question still on her face.
“What do you mean if,” I said.
This is a rough draft but I’m so proud of myself that it’s under a hundred words I could cheer!