Category Archives: Fiction

Flash! Friday: The Ending

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1896 Olympic marathon. Public domain photo by Burton Holmes.

1896 Olympic marathon. Public domain photo by Burton Holmes.

Mama told me to come away, to come back inside, but I couldn’t.

The first ones ran.

I stared, from my perch on the broken fence, as they hurried past, their concentration on the dusty road and their footfalls, not on me, a grubby child by the wayside. They ran so fast even my blistered legs curved below my torn skirts failed to move them. I winced as I changed position.

There were more, still running, always running, kicking up dirt and ash in clouds behind them as they hastened on. Then they slowed and I stared. Sunken cheeks, dull eyes, scorched rags, and blistered skin…like mine.

He was one of the last, walking, dragging, mumbling and stinking of anguished sweat. I backed away as he reached my fence, and I stared with mistrust in my eyes and escape in my legs.

“War is over,” he slurred. “War is over, my child…”

Tears streamed as my eyes met his. “Papa?”

(160 Words)

0. Flash! FridayFlash! Friday…150 give or take 10 words on the prompt photo above including the word War…some of these are brilliant!

Visual Dare: Precocious Spirit

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Mists swirled and danced, and Qilaq kept moving despite the sugared ice flurries that numbed her nose. The road was long and she tightened her fingers around the wagon’s rope. Her arms burned, but her snowy white llama sat as still as could be. She moved steadfastly on, followed, as always, by her faithful animals.

A hawk swept by, disturbing the roiling mists, crying as it circled, “Keee-arr, keee-arr…follow, follow…”

Qilaq glanced up and grinned.

A tear slipped down her cheek, turning crystalline, and for a moment she paused. Her heart ached – especially where the bear’s claws had torn through so many layers – and sorrow filled her, but her journey was almost finished. The next life was within sight and as her spirit-guide, her beloved hawk, soared through the narrow mountain pass, Qilaq quickened her pace, heading for the light that beckoned her. Heading for Spring as her Winter passed.

(150 words)

00. VisDare Badge

 

I loved this picture as soon as I saw it and wanted to write…take a look at the other few tales over at Anonymous Legacy and Visual Dare.

Blues Buster: This Bed is Getting Crowded

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© Lisa Shambrook

© Lisa Shambrook

“Put your phone away, baby…” his voice lingered, as did his fingers trailing across the small of her back. She wriggled, leaning on her elbow, fingernails tapping rhythmically on the screen.

He gazed at the smooth incline of her neck, lit by the stark blue glow of her mobile phone. His eyes followed her shoulder, down the curve of her back, tapering beneath the sheets shrouding the swell of her hip. Her bare skin enticed him and he raised his hand, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and he stroked his fingers down towards her waist. She wriggled again, allowing a giggle to slip out of her mouth, as he descended, his hand running further beneath the sheet.

He felt her muscles tense as she drew her legs up and away, revoking consent, and despite heat rising as his fingers touched soft lace, he withdrew his touch.

His face burned and hurt simmered as he adjusted himself and slid his hands behind his head. He stared and the blue light of betrayal danced on the ceiling.

He tilted his head and glared at her silhouette. She pushed a lock of hair away from her face, and it shone like a halo before it settled across the pillow beside him. His eyes roamed taking in the nape of her neck and her spine, which moved gently as her fingers spoke on the device cradled out of sight. He swallowed hard, as he imagined kissing the dimples on her lower back, and fought the urge to reach out once more.

The impulse vanished as her tinkling laugh echoed softly and her reply tangoed across her phone’s screen. “So funny…” she murmured, and he felt his eyes sting.

“C’mon, honey, it’s late…” he tried to sound nonchalant.

“In a moment…I won’t be long…”

“That’s what you said twenty minutes ago.” He regretted his gruff tone as soon as he’d spoken.

“Okay,” irritation tinged her voice, “we’ll just be a minute…”

He couldn’t stifle the sigh that whispered like the autumn wind through the chill of the bedroom.

“Got – to – go…” she mumbled, fingers sweeping deftly across the screen.

The room plunged into darkness and the phone was asleep.  The bed complained as she turned and relaxed, and as his eyes got used to the gloom he gazed at her prone form. She lay on her back, her belly flat and…she turned towards him, her hair flopping across her face. She brushed it away and shuffled closer. She nuzzled into his chest, resting her shoulder in his armpit and kissed his neck. When he didn’t respond, she lifted onto her elbow and kissed his cheek. Her fragrance felled him, infusing his brain with desire. She leaned across, brushing her body against his, and tears filled his eyes. Her leg moved over his thigh and her kisses rained down. He whispered, softly, inaudibly.

“Sorry, honey?” she asked, lifting her head away from his chest.

“This ain’t love…” he whispered again.

She paused for a moment then moved her fingers down his chest, circling and smoothing, sweeping across his taut skin. As she got lower he moaned, fire igniting, and she laughed a soft, tinkling laugh. He pushed her away. “Am I me, or him?” he asked huskily. “Who are you with, babe?”

Her hesitation, the slightest of pauses, before she hungrily lowered her head to kiss him was enough.   

He slid out of bed grabbing his jeans. He pulled them on and snatched his leather jacket. She watched as he strode across the room and picked up her phone. “See if that keeps you satisfied tonight…” he taunted as he tossed it to her.

Minutes later a rumble echoed as he straddled his bike and sped off into the lonely night.

 

(627 Words)

We’re back with the Mid-Week Blues-Buster over at The Tsuruoka Files…and the music prompt is Alejandro Escovedo’s ‘This Bed is getting Crowded’…take a listen. Then go and read all the stories! 

Five Sentence Fiction: Conflict

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Conflict © Lisa Shambrook

Conflict © Lisa Shambrook

It’s the weight, heavy and constant, which tightens my determination.

Gunfire rattles across the barbed wire and I run, my legs aching and my shoulders on fire. Nerves tingle as the metal within my grip bites into my fingers welding the weapon to my hands. Cold sweat forms, dripping from my brow, and I shift my hefty backpack, but the weight sits firm.

Guilt and desire battle in equal measure and my heart resounds and ricochets like a cannon locked within my ribcage, as I lift my gun…and kill.

 

000. NewFSFBadge Bekahcat June 2012

This week’s prompt over at Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction is conflict…go and read the other tales!

Visual Dare: Enamoured

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Source: Getty Images: by Constance Bannister Corp

Source: Getty Images: by Constance Bannister Corp

Molly’s tangled mop of curls shook as she pirouetted beside the car. She jumped and twirled, and I couldn’t help but smile. She bounced and leaped with outstretched arms and balanced on her toes. Another spin with fingers extended, and then off balance, and she landed in a heap on the floor.

Giggles erupted and Molly gazed up at me. She rocked onto her feet and the glinting wheel hub caught her eye as she leaned against it to stand. Her fingerprints faded as she gazed at her reflection. Her mirror image grinned back and her delighted laugh rang out.

“Mummy, look, boo-ti-full me!”

“Yes, sweetheart, you’re beautiful, always beautiful.” My smile crinkled my eyes and warmed my soul. Tears prickled as her innocent recognition of beauty and confidence far surpassed my own, and I hoped it would last her lifetime.

(141 Words)

Enamour – verb: past participle: enamoured be filled with love for…

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My first VisDare for Angela Goff in a while…go see the others, enjoy!

Flash Friday! Change

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Ani stood beside her mother, staring up into the angry sky. She tensed and pretended the low grumble was her stomach.

“Don’t be scared Ani, there’s a storm brewing.”

Ani’s eyes sparkled as her lip twitched. She cast a glance back into the cavern, into the dim, flickering darkness.

Clouds blustered across the slate grey heavens, billowing and roiling like smoke from an exiled dragon’s belly. Ani thrust out her arms letting the gale roll across her tingling skin. Her mother smiled and spoke as her skirts whipped about her legs. “It’s like something’s waiting to happen…”

Ani swallowed her giggle, twirled, and hurried back inside. The dark corner beckoned and Ani swept her own skirts beneath her as she sank to the floor.  She pulled back the ragged cloth and stroked the lightning bolt crack running down the marbled egg. A sharp intake of breath behind her made her jump. “Don’t be scared Ma,” she said. “Change is brewing…”

(160 Words)

A short tale for Rebekah Postupak’s Flash Friday!…this week’s prompt the extraordinary caves of Vardezia and thunderstorm…take a look at the other tales, some great takes on the prompt!

Flash Friday! The Other Side

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Little Sara smiled and hugged her arms to her chest as fast flowing water hurried freely across her toes. Summer’s breeze fluttered through the trees as she stretched her calf and pointed her foot, digging her toes into the submerged sandy shingle. She wondered how long she’d have to wait.

Excitement bubbled deep down inside as she stared up at the lead roof above her. Her eyes roamed down the chipped columns, and for a moment she frowned. Did it matter that there was no actual gate?

She shook her head and smoothed down her blue, cotton skirt with a confident smile. It wouldn’t matter, Mama would still find her.

Papa said Mama had passed to the other side, but it didn’t matter to little Sara that the floodgate was dirty, cracked and falling apart, it was still a gate, pearly or not, and when Mama was ready to come back, it was here…and she’d be waiting.

(157 Words)

0. Flash! Friday
Another short tale written for Rebekah Postupak’s Flash Friday! Go check out the other stories!

Zombie Apocalypse: Tunnel Vision

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tunnel_steps_escape_the_last_krystallos

© Lisa Shambrook

A chill breeze swept through the sewers, a relief from the heat and stench of the city above. Bodily fluids of all kinds ebbed gently through the labyrinth of tunnels, but the reek of stagnant water was preferable to the decay and decomposition of bodies above. The sewers were free, free from their original use with the loss of humanity, and free from the roaming, moaning bodies that feverishly sought the few survivors.

Helena shivered as her legs wobbled. She slid down the damp, dark wall, her fingers raking through her matted hair, and for the first time in two weeks she allowed tears to drip onto her grubby vest. Her feet dangled in shallow, murky water and she thumped her head with the base of her palm as the things she’d seen raced through her mind. She grabbed a fistful of hair and let out a clear, uncontrolled wail.

She keened, rocking on the edge of the rill, hitting her head against the wall until sticky, warm blood coated her hair.

Her mind blinked as she recalled moments of horror, but she failed to notice the whir above the whistle of the wind or the tiny, flashing green light peering out of the dark tunnel. Footsteps splashing through the water saw her leap to her feet in terror and run on loose legs, tripping and tumbling into the foetid water. For a moment she wondered if drowning was the better choice.

“It’s okay!” The voice startled Helena. The voice had cohesion, it uttered words, real words, and Helena lifted her head.

Two bodies hurried towards her and she scrabbled backwards in panic. When she realised the bodies neither ambled nor dragged, but headed direct and fast, she allowed herself to wait. Strong arms scooped her up and words, blessed words, accompanied the arms that cocooned her. She blacked out.

As the haze cleared, and her heavy eyelids opened, blue eyes stared back. “I wasn’t sure you’d wake up!” he said.

tunnel_dark_the_last_krystallos

© Lisa Shambrook

Having been alone for so long, Helena couldn’t form a single word, let alone a sentence. She gazed at her hand, at the crude drip set up and hanging from a rusty hook on the wall. Her rescuer lifted a torn curtain and her eyes trailed the room. It was huge, concrete and lit by dull fluorescent strips. People, equipment and supplies filled every corner.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re safe. Saw you on the video feed. Didn’t think we’d get to you in time!” He indicated a timer on the wall. Huge red, digital numbers rolled into single figures. “A few hours later and we’d never have got you all the way down here…and safe! You’re the last one from above, the last one ever!” he said.

A soft boom echoed, and dust fell from the ceiling. He squeezed her hand. “The President just hit the button – our last resort. Welcome to Armagedddon.”

(485 Words)

Written for J. Whitworth Hazzard’s Zombie Apocalypse Flash Fiction Contest. Go take a look at the other stunning entries…and add yours if you’ve time!

If you like this you need to read Dead Sea Games by J. Whitworth Hazzard.

Like my story? Kickstart the zombie apocalypse by publishing Dead Sea Games.

Want to write like me? Personal coaching and critiquing by Miranda Kate.

Flash! Friday: Balance

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shiva

Shiva – Raphael Goetter (CC Flickr)

Life had always been off balance for Andie.

Sara had flown through everything, childhood, school, cheerleading – everything. Andie had not. Sara had flown at her first chance, now married to a city banker who took care of her every princess whim. Dad was proud of Sara, his beloved daughter.

Andie, should have been a boy, but wasn’t. When she’d climbed the old oak and hung upside-down from monkey bars without the grace of her sister, she thought she’d won her father, but she hadn’t. A clumsy girl, who failed at gym and excelled at soccer, still wasn’t a son.

Now, she perched on the bridge’s hollow railing, and an empty can rattled across the lonely road, propelled by the same gust of wind that blew her hair into her face and her tears into the river below. The shadows lengthened as the sun dropped beyond the canyon and her hips wavered.

Life had always been off balance for Andie.

(159 Words)

0. Flash! Friday

A short tale written for Rebekah Postupak’s Flash! Friday…go take a look at the other amazing stories!

 

Blues Buster: The Hungry Wolf

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My Blues Buster from the prompt ‘The Hungry Wolf’ by X over at The Tsuruoka Files.

24. Blues Buster The Hungry Wolf

Photo taken from my old calendar!

The Hungry Wolf

The orange glow of streetlamps cast an amber aura over my body as I sprinted through the streets, but I hurried through the nightlife so lightly that barely anyone noticed me. I slipped unseen, like a ghost, amongst the Friday-night revellers, moving in time to the heartbeats that echoed about me. The crowds thinned as I moved west and chatter grew quieter as the hour grew later, but I continued running, my belly hungry.

The aroma of meat, of fast food and the sour stench of sweat, and the strong odour of urine, filtered through my senses as I dodged a group of women on unwieldy heels that couldn’t walk in a straight line. I snorted and ducked low as they clattered past. The last woman, drenched in chemical pheromones, turned back catching my eye. She gazed at me and her pupils widened as longing wafted over the midnight chill. I jogged away, moving swiftly and surely, ignoring her need.

I hurried on, my heart hammering and my eyes searching.

Darkness spread as neon lights faded, and the fragrance of sweet honeysuckle filled the air. I inhaled, my senses heightened, and my craving deepened. I left the streets, turning down an alleyway filled with the perfume of white flowers and night’s jasmine. My belly rumbled and a growl rose within my throat, grumbling out into the dusk.

I loped down the lane, my paws padding on the pavement, my nose close to the ground and innate desire rising in my stomach.

Azaleas, purple and magenta, fluttered, and wisteria climbed across the walls, and rails, and up over the door at the top of the steps. Light flooded the courtyard from an open window above and soft music wafted across the piazza. I paused at the foot of the steps, panting, my tongue lolling between my teeth, and my fur ruffling in the late breeze. I stared up at the door and the shadow that danced across the lunette. The moon reflected in the crescent window and I resisted the urge to howl, but my blood boiled beneath my heavy coat.

The door clicked open and there she was long and lean, and standing against the doorframe, one leg crossed over the other and her breast heaving as she gazed down the steps. Her hand hovered at her hip and her eyes glistened in the moonlight, and I rocked on my haunches. She smiled, showing white teeth and scarlet lips and my heart quickened. Her finger curled and she beckoned me.

I howled, my call echoing far and wide, and she stroked her décolletage, and there was no holding me back.

As the door closed behind me and the full moon bathed the house, she buried her face in my fur and my soul exploded. My body shivered and my fur rippled, and moments later I stood before my love, as naked and furless as the day I’d entered the world.

I caught up my wife in my arms and carried her upstairs determined to make the most of our night before daybreak tore us apart…

(518 Words)