Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

The Neighborhood Watch

The woman sipped her tea and activated the live video feed. It was time.

The girl with the red hair was floating in the pool like that Disney mermaid. The agent strolled through the backyard. He stopped at the pool, clearly irritated.

Just then, the boy began to creep from behind the pillar. Then ran at a full gallop. A water gun exploded. The man landed in the pool.   

Another open house ruined. Those kids really don’t want to move.  

Photo by KoolShooters on Pexels.com

Our challenge was to tell a story in 80 words using the following words:

CREEP

MERMAID

TEA

VIDEO

RED

GALLOP

AGENT

PILLAR

Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

The Grands First Date

Grandpa, do you remember meeting gramma?  

Of course. It was a blind date. Meaning I’d never met her. Not even a photograph. Then Betty opened the door. She was a vision. So beautiful. My heart was immediately full of love.

It was your heart that was suddenly full, was it? [wink]

Betty! Don’t be nasty.

That explains the “empty” gas tank at Lover’s Lake.

Betty! [wink]

[66 Words]

Photo by gya den on Pexels.com

 

Inspired by word prompts of VISION, FULL, and EMPTY, this little story basically wrote itself! 

 

 

Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

the fisherman’s flowers

Those are lovely. But strange. All alone. Wonder where they came from.

 It’s so he can find her.

 Who?

 The fisherman.

 Fisherman? What are you going on about?

 Everybody knows the story. He went out the day before his wedding. Never came back. I guess she cracked cause later she walked into the sea. Left her wedding bouquet on the shore, so he’d know where to find her. Just in case he ever came back. Ever since, her flowers show up every year.

 Oh no. That’s so sad!

 Hah! Got ya. You’re such a sappy sucker. They grow all over.

 (100 words)

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Thanks to Rochelle and Friday Fictioneers for my Fisherman’s FF inspiration. 

Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

second thoughts

Waiting for my cue, I practice my smile. It feels wrong. Too forced. Too white against the gray pallor of my skin.

I try to shake off my doubts. I am the heir apparent. It is my heritage.

But some nights it’s too much. It’s like a giant squid has me wrapped in its tentacles. It squeezes and squeezes and whispers “birthright” in my ear, but I don’t feel lucky. I feel like it’s trying to drown me.

But it’s too late for second thoughts. The crowd chants my name as I once again claim my birthright.

(97 Words)

Photo by Anthony Obunadike on Pexels.com

 Thanks for the inspiration.

Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

YOUR SERVE

YOUR SERVE.

The umpire’s ruling rang in my ears as it triggers an endless overlapping loop in my mind: I am in control, this is why I practice, treasure this moment, unless you blow it, I won’t, you might, I can’t, gratitude, I need to channel gratitude, this is my chance, someday I’ll tell stories about this moment, I’ve got to shoot my shot, I won’t blow it, I will not blow it.

The whistle blows time and I swallow my last chug of Gatorade.

It tastes slightly medicinal or maybe that’s just the bitter edge of my nerves as I step onto the court and take my shot.

Boy oh boy, that serve had some extra spice on it folks, but was it in or out?

YOUR SERVE.  

Photo by Julia Kuzenkov on Pexels.com

 

Thanks to FOWC (RANG), Sunday’ Six Sentence Story (SPICE), and the Sunday Whirl (SEE BELOW) for some great words that inspired me to show off my lack of tennis (or pickle ball?) knowledge.