Sunday Photo Fiction – Both Sides

Every week a photo is used as a prompt to write a story in around 200 words. If you want to have a go, then click on the Sunday Photo Fiction image below, and if you want to read what others have written, then click on the blue image with the frog below that.

He leaned forward and looked at it. The clarity of it amazed him. The veins on the wings stood out so clearly. Each hair on the head, the eyes were incredible. Each little facet its own window into the world. The stripe down its back so clear, with each tiny hair on either side of it making the brown stand out. The fly didn’t move when a single droplet of clear liquid hit the keyboard beside it. The head just tilted slightly to the right, and then twisted to the left.

Then … nothing.

*****

The fly looked at it, the big beast sat there. It pulled a needle from its arm and then a smile crossed the face, one of bliss and pleasure.

Then the fly watched it as it leaned forward, seemingly examining it. The breaths were ragged and laboured. A smile spread across the face as if it were looking at the fly for the first time. The fly looked at the spoon and syringe, and then back at the beast. It saw a droplet fall from the head and land beside it.

The beast’s eyes rolled back into its head and fell forward, no longer breathing.

Sunday Photo Fiction – There’s Been A Murrderr

Every week a donated photo is used as a prompt to write a piece of flash fiction in around 200 words.

If you want to have a go, then click on the Sunday Photo Fiction image, and if you want to read what others have written, then click on the Inlinkz frog image.

 

“How did you kill her?” Constable Geralt asked the handcuffed Paul Curd. They sat in the second interview room in a Scottish police station, where Curd stood accused of the murder of a local prostitute. Curd admitted to being part of a Texas-based underground racing group called The Callous but denied their name meant anything to do with being murderous or criminal in any way other than the racing. He claimed the leader of the group spelled the name wrong, mistyping Callus.

“I didn’t,” Curd replied curtly. Geralt refused to believe him. He wanted someone to pay for the murder, and he chose his prisoner. He didn’t care whether Curd did it or not, he wanted a scapegoat.

“Give me an alibi then. One that can’t be refuted.”

“I was with my friend, Alice”

“What were you doing?”

“I watched the aurora borealis and drank from the phallus looking chalice in a palace with Alice with the callus talking malice on the phone with the Callous who are in Dallas.”

Geralt smiled. “Okay here’s a challenge for you.”

“Me?” asked Curd,

“No you idiot. I mean the person reading this. I want you to read that sentence out loud”

Friday Fictioneers -Hay Day

Every week, Rochelle gives us a donated photo to use as a prompt to write a story in 100 words or less. If you want to have a go, then click on the Friday Fictioneers image, and if you want to see what others have written, then click on the blue image with the frog on it.

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The snow was cruel this year. The horses couldn’t find any grass, and so the hay didn’t last long. Suzie ordered another eighteen rounds of hay, and was told the price had doubled due to demand. Her supplier was always one to find a way to cash in and raise his prices. Furiously, she agreed to his prices and said she had the money to pay him when he arrived.

He turned up with a smug look on his face. He didn’t see Suzie coming up behind him. Her pigs ate well that day, but she needed a new supplier.

Friday Fictioneers – Hiking

Every week, the gifted Rochelle shares with us a photo that has been donated so we can write a story or poem in 100 words or less. If you want to have a go, then click on the Friday Fictioneers image, and if you want to read what others have written, then click on the little blue frog image.

Click image to go to
Friday Fictioneers

© Jan Wayne Fields

Barry knew today was going to be tough. He never liked walking too far, and the activity today was to walk fifteen miles. He didn’t like walking fifteen feet except when he woke up in the morning and went to his game console. He would much prefer playing Call of Battlefield than walking outdoors.

His dour attitude started to grate on the other hikers who turned up to enjoy the walk. They didn’t want him bringing their happiness down, so they faced off with him. The confrontation was intense but in the end, he agreed to try and enjoy it.