Category Archives: Flash Fiction

flash fiction

Flash Fiction – Clowns

flash fiction clowns

 

He sat down at the table, head in his hands. Jake wanted to quit yesterday, but if he did he’d have no job, then he’d lose his home. He knew no other job role. He’d done this line of work for so long, he now felt stuck. He couldn’t re-train, not now.

Jake used to work the party shift, but with new laws surrounding hours, he had to do nights occasionally so that the others could take the right amount of break in between night shifts. This was his seventh night shift; he already hated it. Jake hoped this shift change would only be temporary, he knew the others weren’t fans of the party shifts; it just didn’t make any sense making each worker do the shift they hated the most.

It wasn’t as if he slept or rested well in between the shifts, fear and dread overwhelmed him in the hours where he waited to return to work. He was tired, too tired to fight his own corner.

He sat at his work desk, looked at all his tools which lay in front of him. Pills which always sat to the side, he picked them up, shook them. He’d never contemplated taking them so much as he did recently. Ending his pain; not yet – but he knew there was more to life than what lay ahead of him.

Putting the pills back onto the desk, he moved his head to face the mirror in front of him, hating what he’d become.

“I have to do this.” He said to his reflection.

He picked up his make-up brushes and began to paint his face. No tears could fall now he was almost ready.

Sliding his feet into his big black boots; fastening the final few buttons on his jacket. Jake collects his keys and heads to his shift.

Clocking in via his GPS watch he took his place.

 

In his unusual grainy voice, he begins.

“I’m watching you…”

 

flash fiction

International Cat Day – Narla and Porridge

International Cat Day

4 AM

“Meow.”

It is time to wake the humans. It feels like days since we have seen any humans.

“Meow.”

4.30 AM

They have left us. Why have they left us?

“Meow, meow”

I wonder if I took a walk they would notice that I wasn’t there.

6 AM

The door of the big house finally opens. As always Porridge just has to push in. I don’t know where she spends her nights; she really annoys me – most of the time.

6.10 AM

Why do they insist on giving me these biscuits?

I’m off…

6.15 AM

Okay, I am hungry I will just have to eat them. But one day I will just stand my ground and not eat them. One day I will teach them; for now, I am hungry.

6.20 AM

That Porridge is always trying to eat ALL the food, she makes me so cross; she has lived here longer than me. However, I do like to remind her who I boss from time to time. These scatty younger ones get on my nerves sometimes.

6.30 AM

Oh, I think the tiny humans are awake. They are so noisy sometimes. But now that they are awake, it means I can go to bed.

Their beds are so unbelievably comfortable.

8.30 AM

I think I should go and take a wander, the house appears slightly quieter, everyone must have left. Good!

I’m going to check out my bowl. Still the biscuits; they’re okay but I much prefer the meat. It’s time to get some fresh air. I love this neighbourhood; most of the others are friendly enough. Not many socialise with me very often. I like that, I like that they all usually keep themselves to themselves I don’t like the drama.

9.30 AM

I’m going to make my way back to the house, I am tired I could do with a nap; feeling too tired to walk the stairs I’ll just nap on the sofa – or at least until someone moves me.

2 PM

Well, I guess I had better venture out, go to the toilet the humans get mad if I attempt to toilet somewhere in the house. I have seen them shout at Porridge, not fun. She is a pain at times though.

3 PM

The weather has cooled a little; I think I am going to sunbathe. My humans tell people I am lazy, but also tell people how adorable I am, that I already know.

3.30 PM

The tiny humans are home, the smallest one is very for cuddles; I don’t mind sometimes but she does get a little rough. Porridge doesn’t like it so much, she’s a funny one she doesn’t seem to love the tiny humans as much as me – which is great for me as I get more cuddles!

I loved it when they were babies, there was a smell of milk and warmth everywhere, snuggling into the Mama were my favourite times of the day.

Purr

4 PM

It’s time for another nap. It is actually fairly exhausting being a cat.

4.15 PM

Urgh. Porridge always has to try and annoy me, all of the time. I don’t agree with violence, but when she brushes past me when I am trying to get the humans’ attention, just grates on me.

So I swipe her, not enough to cause her pain, but enough for her to get out of my face. I don’t know why she does it. Stupid cat.

5 PM

The humans are about to have their dinner, I wonder what they are having. I need to remind them that I have to eat too.

5.10 PM

I may as well go outside for a bit, it’ll be a while I am sure before I can get some dinner. I do need to get to the bowl before Porridge, although we do eat the same amount, she has his habit of putting her mouth all over my food before eating her own, when I attempt the same to her she hisses. She doesn’t like the taste of her own medicine.

6.30 PM

It’s getting a little darker and quieter out here; I wish they would hurry up and give us dinner. I’m on the neighbourhood watch. We get the odd stranger in our midst; they need to be kept an eye on.

7 PM

Finally, meat time and I am first in – for once. She’s not far behind, my turn to grumble at her. I like her sometimes, she isn’t all that bad; just annoying.

7.15 PM

Off I go into the night; I like my evenings out and about,  I do sleep in the house when it is super cold though. I can hear the humans telling Porridge she should go out too, she tried to push her luck every single night, I wonder when she will learn?

9 PM

There’s a ginger Tom cat always hovering, he can keep away from me (and Porridge); he’s always so overly friendly. I don’t even know where he is from. I wish he would just return there.

11 PM

I have found myself a place to rest my head in the wooden Wendy house; I can hear most things from here. No idea where Porridge goes, never far – I do care about her, believe it or not.

 1 AM

It’s time for another check of the neighbourhood. It is reasonably quiet here, not many humans or strange cat visitors. I’m glad really. I don’t like wandering too far from the house. I am a home cat.

3.30 AM

There’s something on the ground, maybe if I can catch it I can take it home, my humans will be so pleased. It’s a mouse! A mouse, I cannot wait to see their faces. I’ll have to leave it on the ground for now, while I try to get their attention; Porridge had better not pretend it is her gift!

It’s time to wake them up. It’s been days since we have seen them.

3.45 AM

“Meow!”

 

International Cat Day

International Cat Day is a great way to celebrate our furry friends. They really are wonderful creatures, lots of fun and make the best companions

flash fiction

Flash Fiction – Alice Saunders

As night fell, I knew I needed to take the dog for one last walk of the day. I’d had such a wonderful day, family had visited, we’d had a barbeque and some drinks. The weather perfect for socialising, and I don’t recall anyone being bitten by the gnats flying around us. One of us usually does.

I said goodbye to Matt my boyfriend – I always felt strange calling him my boyfriend being 25, but I’d gotten used to it by now. William – my golden Labrador waited by the door for me; he didn’t look overly enthusiastic, he looked as I felt. Leaving the house we walked towards the fields behind our house, every night I did this walk; nothing ever changed. I knew it like the back of my hand.

flash fiction Alice saunders

Up ahead I could see a small figure standing alone, their back was facing me; I slowed my pace. Waited for the person to turn and face me, I would soon know who stood in front of me – we knew everyone. As I moved closer they remained still looking into the distance, I could see it was a child-like figure. William made a noise; I’m sure he felt uneasy too. His slight bark made the person jump; they turned to face me – a little girl.

She looked towards me, though not at me. She looked confused; I stepped a little closer, William pulled back against my steps.

“Hello, are you okay?” I whispered, looking for her guardian someone who knew her.

“I want my Mummy, I want my Daddy. Take me please.” She replied, strong and clear, still not making eye contact. I’m a stranger I guess.

“Where are they? What’s your name?” Really hoped she had a rough idea of who she was.

“I want my Mummy, I want my Daddy. Take me please.”

She turned and started to walk. For some reason I looked down at William, I knew in his own way he wanted to tell me not to go. Dogs know more than they let on. I gently tugged on his lead to follow the girl; I needed to return her to her parents.

The little girl walked a little way ahead from us, I tried to catch up closer, but she liked to keep her distance. We left the fields and had now started to walk along a dark main road, but still light enough to see where we were walking.

It wasn’t far, it began to rain. I probably should have turned or phoned the police but this girl seemed to trust me enough to let me take her home. However we had walked quite far from where I had come across her, can’t be far now. We crossed the road and she made her way into another field, I gripped on tight to William, mainly for comfort for me. The rain came down heavy it was more of a storm than a drizzle. How much the weather had changed from as little as thirty minutes ago. Local folklore had once said the field had been a burial ground. It was to return as one soon too

The girl carried on for a short while, it really wasn’t long until I noticed up a head a blossom tree the biggest I had seen in a while. Nearby there were what looked like rocks, some were darker than others some slightly lit. Squinting my eyes a little, I could see figures under the tree. William and I paused.

“I want my Mummy, I want my Daddy. Take me please.”

I wasn’t sure; I really didn’t like this one bit. Now I felt scared, I placed my hand over my jeans pocket, making doubly sure that I hadn’t dropped my phone. Rain trickled down my hair, I could barely see. I walked closer to the figures. The little girl repeated her words.

“I want my Mummy, I want my Daddy. I want a cuddle.”

 

There were two people huddled on the ground, holding each other tightly; I took a deep breath and brushed my hand onto shoulders of one of them. It startled them, making me jump and William bark. The couple jumped to their feet in fear.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I don’t mean to scare you, but I’ve brought your daughter to you. She was back on the estate. Luckily I did you’d have frozen to your…”

“Is this a joke?” The man, not much taller than me moved fast towards me. William wasn’t happy. The woman next to the man held him back.

“Joke? I don’t see anything funny; I brought your lost daughter here. Now I am going home.” That’s gratitude for you, I thought to myself as I turned to leave.

“You can see her?” The woman replied to me, I could hear the cold and wet sound in her voice.

“Of course, she led me here.” This was getting silly.

“But she is already here, you stupid woman!” the man, became rude again, but moved his hand and body in a way in which he could show me something. I had to step forward to see properly, William still in my grasp.

Alice Saunders

At Peace

Much loved daughter, granddaughter

Friend

Age seven

Written on a tiny cross, not quite ready for a stone.

 

Matt and my father had buried her yesterday, as funeral directors I recall Matt saying it was the saddest day he’d ever done. Her death shook our town, sudden and unexplained. No closure for anyone.

“Your daughter knew you were here, she knew you’d get cold.” I tried desperately not to cry, or show just how scared I felt. There have been far too many strange things recently, this being top of the list.

“Thank you.” The woman touched my hand, the pain in her eyes was unbearable; something I’ll not forget. The way the man stood, like he had the heaviest weight on his shoulders. Neither expression I will forget.

I just wish I really could have returned her child.

locked in

Locked In

The Screams echoed through the corridors.

Not again Grace thought; as she turned to find where the screams had come from; a figure walked towards her. A baby in the woman’s arms. The woman was distraught. Grace knew better than to try and comfort her; at least not straight away. The woman brushed passed Grace gently, careful not to hurt each other’s’ babies.

Grace held hers too.  She couldn’t put her down, she didn’t want to. Grace carried on walking to as far as the corridor would take her, before turning back to return to her room. She wanted to give the woman space to breath for a moment. This was all new to the woman. Grace paused to take a look at her baby; she still couldn’t believe she had made someone so perfectly beautiful. She knew she wasn’t meant to be wandering around with her, but she couldn’t put her down.

Reaching the woman’s room she could see her talking to her baby, taking in all of his features; kissing his head. She looked up and noticed Grace, but said nothing.

“Hopefully you won’t be waiting too long; they should be here for you soon. Your baby is beautiful.” The woman – Alison, turned with a confused face and looked straight at Grace, no expression. “He’s perfect.” She replied, turning to face her new baby again.

Grace took a deep breath and carried on walking back to her room in silence. Sitting on the empty bed, looking at the empty cot; wanting to put her baby down, but couldn’t – her arms ached.

She pressed the buzzer and waited. Someone came, looked at Grace straight in the eye and switched off the buzzer, walked away. This annoyed Grace, so she pressed it again, then pressed the one in the bed next to her; she repeated this until all the bed buzzers were ringing. She quickly left the room, so she wouldn’t get caught.

Standing in the corridor, she could see Alison leaving with her baby; she was jealous of her. She wanted to leave. But before she could think too much, another scream could be heard, the begging cries to stay. This time, nobody entered the corridor. Grace knew exactly what that meant.

She’d been there nine years, she knew when the screams came but the corridor remained empty, that mother had survived, but her baby didn’t.

Grace knew, because like Alison she stayed with her baby. Unlike Alison she was stuck. Grace could never leave, eternally locked in.

what happened to me? flash fiction

What Happened To Me?

Did they think I couldn’t see them? The pair of them had been stood in the corner, whispering and staring at me for hours. One dressed in white, the other in black. The one in white would step towards me, whilst the one in black tore her back towards him.

What do they want? Why don’t they want to come any closer to me? Who are they?

I can’t move, I have no real idea of where I am. There are people stood close to me, some look familiar, but I couldn’t tell you who they are exactly. My brain is working, but I can’t speak; I don’t know why I can’t talk either. I used to talk, I am sure of it. But why can’t I now? I want to rub my blurry eyes, but I can’t move my hands, I can’t even feel my arms let alone move them.

What had happened to me?

I looked to the corner to the two people stood with their arms crossed, staring. Why had nobody else acknowledged them? Why wasn’t anyone else asking them?

“Miranda!” I can see my wife. I am trying so hard to grab her attention; I need her to talk for me, he looks so sad. But I am okay, I just can’t talk. Why isn’t anyone trying to communicate with me?

I can’t hear anything.

“ARRRGGGGHHHH.” So screaming isn’t working, I need to break free from this state. Miranda stepped away, I can’t see her.

People in uniform surrounded me, they’re touching me. Holding my legs, my hands. I wanted Miranda, where is my Miranda?

The uniformed people stood back, the two strangers stepped forward. One either side of me. I can see their mouths were moving.

The woman in white placed her hands over my chest. The pain, the pain burned through my skin, that skin no longer felt like mine. I could feel myself draining from my veins.

What was happening? I tried to stop her, but of course I can’t move.

The man in black, grabbed my face with his cold bare hands, pressed his lips against mine. Pinning my tongue between his teeth, planting what felt like a sting onto it.

As I leave the body I once knew, I was stood in the corner. So many people stood around watching as my life fades away. The final breath of life taken, the last of the pain felt.

I can’t see anything. Everything has gone black.

flash fiction

Fiction Friday: The Wind Walkers

The snooze alarm bounded by my bedside; he wasn’t ready for the alarm, but being on the day shift. He had better get up.

Jude was not a huge fan of breakfast; so he grabbed a slice of toast and a travel mug full of black coffee. He relied heavily on the caffeine for his my job! Living on site has its perks because he didn’t have to get up too long before his shift starts.

Stepping out, he couldn’t quite tell what the weather would be today; it looked like it is going to be nice and dry, which meant it would be a hot one.

Jude left his home and walked to one minute distance to his place of work. He didn’t like being even a minute late, although the workforce worked alone in their offices; they were also a community too.

In Jude’s area there were three offices, two had elevators to the one and only floor. But the other building had nearly 600 steps to reach the top floor. Nobody ever wanted to work that building, but nobody offered to take turns either, it was very much first come first choice. Today it was Jude who arrived a millisecond too late!

His day began as the white automatic doors opened, stepping through the entrance the doors slide closed behind him. The first part of the stair case was dark, not completely as the tiny windows a little way up the staircase let some light in. Doing the job, walking the stairs every single day, you would expect it to get easier. It didn’t. As Jude reached the 100th step, he took a moment to look out of the window. He opened it slightly to let some air through to him; enjoying the fresh air he took a sip from his travel mug, and then continued climbing the building.

Before long he had reached the very top. He walked over to the windows and gave his co-workers a little wave. Although he absolutely loved his job, he at times did feel lonely. He did have a head set to talk to them if he wanted. Before making conversation he needed to set his work station up for the day.

Temperature gauge for outside – checked

Temperature gauge for inside – checked.

Safety Alarms – checked.

Weather Station – checked. There wasn’t a lot of wind out there, which meant Jude’s day got a little bit harder.

Finally a full safety inspection for the blade runners; this was a job that needed to be done every day, at the beginning, in the middle and even at the end of the shift.

All boxes ticked; Jude stepped onto the blade runner, putting his headset and mouth piece in place. It was time for him to begin. It always took at least 20 footsteps for the mechanics to begin its job; the blades on the outside of the building began to turn.

The wind turbines were up and running for another day.

fan fiction guest post

Flash Fiction. A Guest Post

So, I took a few weeks off of the flash fiction series. It is something I have personally missed doing. And will aim to continue this part of my blog. This week, however, my husband would like to include a piece of his own; so I have opened up this week’s slot to him. Here it is – I hope you enjoy…

ARROW

“Intimidation Game”

Prologue

 

“Wake up.”

Oliver Queen groaned as consciousness forced its way into his head.

Everything hurt, but it had lessened since the last time his eyes were half-open.  Panic seized him when he opened his eyes, and all he saw was blackness.  Was he blind?  He hadn’t been hit in the face that badly, had he?

He could smell wet stone and damp metal.

There was a cool breeze on his face.

More panic.

His mask was gone, his hood tucked under the back of his head.

He wasn’t restrained, and he didn’t feel any of the usual after effects of drugs, at least none he had personally experienced.  When he finally moved, he felt everything hurt at once.  He struggled to right himself.

He could hear something in the distance, some small animal squeaking that echoed around the space he was in.  Where was it coming from?  Why couldn’t he pinpoint the noise?  He was sure it wasn’t the only one, judging by the answering calls.

He spun on the comfortable bed, and his boots touched a metal floor.

Oliver stood, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

It was a cave, he was sure of that now, the rock hanging over like an archway far above.  He could see several big metal platforms jutting out from the cave wall, supported on massive heavy beams and thick industrial cables.  The very top one seemed to have a craft sat on it, idling, but the lights were dim.

Hadn’t he seen that thing flying before?

One of them, with two large rectangular tunnels cut into the rock, had an armoured car sat on it, low and threatening like a tank crossed with a Lamborghini –black, of course.  He saw at least two others festooned with darkened glass cabinets and hidden suits inside, mirroring his own headquarters.  But this place was something else entirely, far beyond the basement of Verdant.

The bed he had been lying on was one of two, each with medical equipment waiting on standby nearby.  Stairs led up and around to another platform, where a bright glow radiated out from something he couldn’t see.

On the stairs, he found his compound bow and arrows untouched, but he was sure he would not be able to use them.  He swallowed as he ascended the stairs, his heartbeat rising.

What was this place?

It looked like a full military operation.

“Oliver Queen,” a dark gravelly voice said from the shadows.  “Green Arrow.”

It echoed around the cave.

He squinted to see past the glow.

A massive bank of flat-screens joined together to form a computer display Felicity would kill to get her hands on.  A single high-backed chair sat in front of it all, but there didn’t seem to be anyone in it.

“Who are you?” he asked, his own voice bouncing off the walls.

That animal squeak again, this time answered by hundreds more.

He looked up into the darkness of the roof of the cave, and saw the creatures.

Bats.

Hundreds of them.

He flinched, startled when he saw a shadow detach itself from the darkness.  It made no noise, no sound whatsoever, but it continued moving, further and further towards the light of the big screen.

Oliver braced himself, cursing himself for being so stupid as to be frightened.

This man was a master, though.

That much was obvious.

As he stepped into the glow, the legends became fact.

He wore grey body armour that covered his legs arms and torso, a pointy-eared cowl of black covered most of his face, and a long cape flowed over his shoulders to kiss the metal floor.

It was him.

The vigilante that criminals ran screaming in fear from.

The papers –not that any had a picture of him- called him the Caped Crusader.

The Dark Knight.

Oliver shivered as the name slipped from his lips.

“Batman.”

 

Check out his weight-loss blog here.

Don't Touch Me

Don’t Touch Me. Flash Fiction

I have always loved people watching; for as long as I can remember they fascinate me somewhat. Going about their personal business, some walking in the same direction, but not to the same destination; strangers together. Their lives seemed busy, for whatever reason.

As I walk amongst the crowd, weaving in and out; being careful not to touch or be touched by anyone, I like to keep clean. Keeping my head down as much as I can too; I struggle with eye contact with people; it makes me feel strange – guilty perhaps. They could be having a bad day, and making eye contact would mean that I have ignored them. Simpler just to avoid; I don’t think I am noticed much anyway – I like that too. I am fairly shy and prefer to go be unnoticed; it made my day peaceful; leaving me with only a small number of jobs I am given daily, these days I like.

My job is a difficult one, it really is never easy, but one that is needed to be done. There are quite a few of us in this field, dotted around the world. We rarely interact with each other; we can work alone, when we do come together it is usually the worst kind of days, days we like to avoid. I like my own company, I think the others feel the same none of like the team working days.

My first call of the day is fairly early; it is in a house – I say the first call, I have visited here several times this week, I don’t like to arrive too quickly if I can help it, although I think it was preferred that I completed the jobs a day or so ago. But I like them to have the important things out of the way; it doesn’t make any sense to me to interrupt these.

I can’t put this off any longer.

As I stand to look at the large black wooden front door – it looks quite old – I always like to knock, but I never wait for the door to be answered. You see people don’t like me being in their homes, I try desperately to not be made aware of – most of the time these people know that I am coming.

As I enter the house, I remove a small bottle from my pocket, placing a drop of the gloopy liquid from inside onto my hands and rubbed them together; I like to remain clean all the time, hence why I am not overly keen on being touched, amongst other reasons. I can hear voices from the rooms upstairs, everywhere else seemed cold and empty.

I begin to slowly climb the stairs, a voice shouted over me to whoever was downstairs, within seconds they were running past me, I made sure that nobody touched me or that I got in their way. Reaching the top I took a breath. “This part never gets easier.” I sighed to myself. Slowing my pace as I edged closer to the door at the end of the hallway. It was a long one, passing several dark doors as I walked.

It seemed so small, but there were many people in there, not a lot of space to move. Politely but quietly I said “Excuse me”, as I tried to get by. I can’t be sure they really heard, I never know if I ever get heard.

A path naturally cleared for me; I continue to be careful not to be touched too much, and where my hands placed, for a moment I was able to reach for my tiny bottle again; can’t be too clean. In front of me a bed with an elderly gentleman lying under his covers, he appeared to be sleeping; he obviously wasn’t well. Above the voices which were filling the room, I could hear his laboured breathing and the soft beating of his heart. I continued closer to him; I do hope I can help him.

I crouched down close to his ear.

“I’m here for you.”

Whilst I placed my hand upon his chest, I could instantly feel the final rise and fall as he took his final breath; my hand rested next to those who love him. Carefully sliding my hand away, I stepped back to ensure nobody could sense my being there, I certainly didn’t want contact with them in any way – it wouldn’t be the first time.

The paperwork I need to fill, identities I need to check most of the others who work the same as me use modern technology but I still prefer book and pencil. This one was pretty standard. As hard as they are I like these jobs. I can begin my journey to my next destination.

The cries of sadness trail behind me, I am used to that noise now – well almost.

I didn’t have another in the area, so I made my way to my car. I managed to drive a little way, traffic was building up, the three lanes were filling up. It was then I noticed other members of my team dotted around the queuing traffic, we made eye contact and I knew this wasn’t the end of my day.

The man in the car next to me looked across, he smiled. They usually do.

Seconds later a large tanker ploughed into the car next to me and into others. My quiet day had now ended.

Flash Fiction Friday – A Prologue

This is a prologue from a book, which I have almost finished; which will be part of a series.

The bright lights that had surrounded her for so long, became blurry, duller they didn’t make her blink as much.

Darker and darker her surroundings became until there was nothing but black, had she gone blind? Or was it just that black. She could feel herself falling, she couldn’t see where she was falling, how far she’d be falling or if she’d ever stop; she felt strangely calm. The silence was deafening.

She landed with a loud thud, it echoed, over and over.

Eye closed tight she laid on her back facing, what she assumed was up; afraid to open in fear of them hurting, she didn’t want any light to hurt them more. Her body stiffened something nudged and scratched deep in the middle of her back, it was uncomfortable she couldn’t quite reach around with her arm to feel what the discomfort or attempt to make it stop.

The scratching made her squirm and wiggle, in the hope that it would stop; a little stretching in her back and it was soon over; instead a tickling sensation replaced it, it wasn’t as uncomfortable.

She forced her eyes open, she could see a new dull light, and more natural than the one she remembered and was used to.

She blinked repeatedly, thankfully it didn’t take them long to adjust. She stood a short while, she had no idea where she had landed or how she would get out, if she ever would but she knew that everything was now different. Standing still concentrating, taking it all in the tickling sensation in her back begun again, making her lift off the ground slightly, it made her gasp. Peering over she shoulder, she noticed wings, yellow silky with five tiny diamonds attached to them, they fluttered gently, they were obviously brand new. She most certainly didn’t begin her journey with them, she couldn’t find instructions; she knew then she would have to be self-taught.

The beams that shone down around her, became wider the further forward she floated; every now and again she could feel herself lowering slightly, encouraging herself to make use of her precious new equipment. It became easier the further she went.

Pleased with herself she figured out the harder she fluttered the higher and slightly quicker she travelled. This felt fun.

The higher she rose, she began to be as high as the birds, they nodded as they passed her, slightly lowering herself she caught sight of the bees, she hoped she could become friends with them, but they looked too busy.

Up ahead she could see an array of colour, pinks of all different shades, bubbles she could see a name similar to her own on there, she wondered if they were destined for her. She chased and played with them for a short while, while they hovered in the calm breeze, until a sudden gust of wind sent them further away from her, causing her to somersault as they floated by. She tried to see where they were from, lowering herself a little, she didn’t want to get too close.

A dark cloud appeared just above her, rain began to fall; they felt heavy on her back, on her wings. She could feel herself getting heavy at the same time; her energy was beginning to fade too. She got closer and closer to the ground, but she couldn’t find the energy to fight it, to keep herself up.

Gently floating lower, until she hovered slightly over ground gently placing her feet on to the ground. Standing still she realised she had landed in what seemed like a garden, turning on the spot she found what looked like an old tree stump, it appeared to be vacant, she felt relieved that she could maybe rest her head for a short while, or at least until she figured out what her next plans would be.

 

She closed her eyes. Dreaming of new tomorrows.

 

Note from the Author: Thank you so much for joining me each Friday for these pieces of fiction. They’re different pieces, which I wasn’t intending to publish as part of this series but haven’t been feeling 100%. I love writing fiction, and have loads more to share. 

Thank you for reading my flash fiction. 

Fiction Friday. A Prologue Snippet.

This is an excerpt from some Fiction that I am currently working on. 

Every morning as dawn broke the Church doors would unlock and Amy would take a walk in and around the church grounds; she’d look at the headstones, there were a few new ones; but mainly old and now lost and forgotten. Many thoughts crossed her mind,  even those of wonder –  whether this would soon become her final resting place; wondering if she would even get a headstone and if her unborn baby would be with her.    Amy had even envisaged a burial plot; under a pretty little tree that she imagined would blossom during the summer months; sprinkling petals over her abandoned grave in years to come.

She continued to gently walk aimlessly.   She began to talk a little to her delicate bulging stomach, this would be the only conversation she would have. A cold chill swirled around her;  it was then she decided to go back inside the church; where once again the doors would close magically behind her.

The frail old woman hurriedly approached her; where she became forceful with Amy; almost seemed frustrated with her. Forcefully holding her by the arms while she placed her hand hard onto Amy’s growing stomach, she muttered something quickly and quietly; which sounded like a chant or a spell; willing the birth of the unborn baby quicker.   She ripped her hand away. Amy stepped away quickly; wrapping her arms around her stomach for protection for her unborn child. Frowning at the woman; confused by her new hostile behaviour.

Outside, a blizzard was looming; heavy snow hit the stained glass windows of the church, Amy silently but quickly made her way to the big Oak doors, they hadn’t yet been bolted from her walk outside; she had only assumed she had now outstayed her welcome with Cora the person she had looked to as an angel that had taken care of her these last weeks.   But as she neared them the bolts pulled themselves across to lock the door.   Amy hadn’t noticed that the elderly woman was right behind her; ready to pull Amy away from the door, with some surprising force, to stop the teen from escaping.

She pushed Amy to the floor.   Shocked and frightened she slowly got to her feet; looked at her attacker then looked around. She was looking for some kind of exit and she noticed a little oak door to the side of her; maybe this could be her door…   She pushed, pulled, even kicked it; while tugged at the dirty brass doorknob; with no movement; it was very old and locked.    Cora followed the 14-year old’s every move, every footstep-like a shadow.  She again grabbed Amy with force by her arm.

Pulling her close, she placed her hand tightly onto Amy’s large pregnant stomach; she let out a horrified and painful gasp while tearing herself away from the cold elderly hands, replacing them with her own warm hands, protecting her unborn child.  Cora disappeared.

Amy took the opportunity to try and escape again through the old side door, “Surely there is a way to get out of here?” She muttered to herself. Amy once again kicked and punched the door.  She could see movement out of the corner of her eye, Amy turned to see the not so frail Cora slowly walking effortlessly towards her – as if she was gliding- carrying something in her arms.

Amy began to panic throwing bibles, prayer mats and iron candlestick holders at the woman; all of which missed her.  When Amy failed to hit the woman in self-defence, she began throwing the objects at the ancient church stained glass windows in the hope it could be her escape route; or the very least a passerby would hear. She finally smashed a window; one of which had the beautiful Virgin Mary mastered in to.  This angered the woman; she quickened her pace toward the terrified pregnant girl.

The elderly woman carried a bowl of warm water and fabric – possibly old curtains.  Amy concentrated harder on her escape she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the window she had smashed; for a moment she couldn’t see Cora. The hood of her cloak now rested on her shoulders. Thick, unkempt, white hair down to her shoulder blades.

Cora was able to creep right up behind Amy, pulling her with force off the pew she was standing on to attempt her escape; she hit the floor, hard.  Cora grabbed Amy by a handful of hair; dragging her whilst she kicked. Cora came across a frail, elderly lady; but the truth was she had utter strength behind her. Amy yelled in pain toward the open space at the altar.

Amy silenced herself with fear, now lying on the cold stone floor, too scared to move.  Cora stood over her as she forcefully pulled Amy’s legs to buckle beneath her.  Amy attempted to stop her by kicking which only made Cora angry; making the grip tighter, with that unbelievable strength.  With her long thin pointy fingers, she placed them deep beneath Amy’s tatty long skirt…

It all happened so fast; Cora stood up and took a step back watching as pain ripped through Amy’s tiny teenage body.  Water surrounded the girl making it too slippery for her to stand.  There were waves of pain which paralysed her; all the while she still tried to protect her unborn baby with nothing but just her arms.  Amy thoughts were only to her death, she knew she was about to die, no one would know or even care. Not even her family, she was dead to them, the moment she discovered her pregnancy.  She tried to stand, but could only kneel; she was desperate for the pain to disappear.  Cora continued to stand close, arms folded with no emotion or word to say; she pulled Amy to her feet dragging her a short space to the font; where she submerged the girl’s head into the clear water…

Fiction

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