Tag: Photo Challenge

Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

For the Best

Tina Stewart Brakebill

Molly watched and wondered.

Mama always told her it was for the best. They weren’t really captives. It was for protection. They’d hurt themselves or others if they were free.

But still, Molly wondered. Were they happy? Sad? Were they envious? Did they know they weren’t free? Or was mama right and they didn’t even understand those ideas?

One of the little ones followed Molly with its eyes and just for a moment Molly felt a connection. Maybe it did understand. She squirmed a bit at that thought. Maybe mama was right and this was the best thing for them. But still. That look.

Maybe she’d get closer. Try again.

But just then, she heard her mama’s call sing out and she shook off her doubt. Mama would never lie to her.

“Mama must be right. It’s all for the best.”

Already thinking about feeding time, she turned tail and swam away.

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Thanks to Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge.

Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

but, still (or the magic door)

Tina Stewart Brakebill

Susan felt like a fool. It was 1977 not 1957. My god, she was a liberated woman! How could she fall for his line?  

Stupid!

But, still, she stayed. Remembering. Champagne. His voice in her ear. “I can’t tell you where I’m going but meet me here on Christmas Eve.”

Stupid!

Did she think she was Deborah Kerr in some kind of Hollywood movie? She should go.

Stupid!

But, still, she stayed. Remembering. Laughter. Sparkling blue eyes. “This’ll be our magical place.”

Stupid!

But, still, she stayed. Waiting. Till she heard those whispered words: “Hey beautiful. Is this seat taken?”

magic-door

Photo prompt courtesy of Dale Rogerson

These 100 hopeful words were written for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioners Challenge.

Was it in her head or did he come through the magical doors?

Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

Time

Tina Stewart Brakebill

Time has lost all meaning. Had it been one year? Twenty years? One hundred? More? She had stopped trying to count the days long ago. But she had believed–really believed–she’d be able to note the seasons. Hoping to mark the years. Imagining she’d be able to picture their faces as time passed.

She had wanted to be prepared. Be ready for the day when this ended. To not flinch when she saw her mother’s weary eyes and her father’s body wracked by time. To smile when her baby brother gazed down on her instead of reaching up for a hug. To love what is instead of mourning what was lost.

But the light was funny and she got confused. Never knowing whether she had slept for moment or a day or more. So she lost track of the seasons. Couldn’t count the years. She still felt as if she was waiting. Hoping. But she was no longer sure why. Or what she was hoping for.

For him to save her?

For an axe to end the lingering hope?

For a fire to burn them both to ash and scatter their doomed love into the wind?

For time to end?

The light was growing dim again. Perhaps she’d sleep for a moment. She could think about this another time. That was one thing she knew.

There was always more time.

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The image is provided by Janek-Sedlar at DeviantArt and shared thanks to Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge.

Thanks!! I needed a kick in the butt to write some FF.