Tag Archives: Five Sentence Fiction

Five Sentence Fiction: Empty

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Photo by Lisa Shambrook Instagram (please do not use without permission)

It was the imprint in the sofa, the flattened cushion and the worn patch in the carpet.
It was the ridge in the centre of the bed; she’d tried sleeping on his side, letting her body mould into the contours of the mattress, but she could never get comfortable, could never sleep that way.
It was the lack of matching knives, forks and spoons at the dining table, no need for the half-full jar of Marmite, and too much milk in the fridge.
It was the shaving gel and razor still sitting lonesome on the bathroom shelf, and the memory of aftershave.
It was those sad puppy eyes his beloved old Labrador gave her when they sat together in the quiet sitting room, with too much to think about, surrounded by ghosts and empty hearts.

Written for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction.

Five Sentence Fiction: Abandoned

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Photo by Lisa Shambrook www.flickr.com/photos/thelastkrystallos
The dinghy rocked, and she didn’t have enough energy to move her legs as they fused to the soft, scorching PVC sides, beneath the baking sun. She tried to prise open her salt-coated mouth to lick her lips, but her tongue stuck to her sandpaper lip and the cry that escaped was little more than a lost whimper.
The glare of the blazing, white fireball in the sky saturated her brain and silence screamed building slowly to a crescendo, until the noise was so loud the roaring filled her entire being.
A shadow passed over her and the little boat pitched wildly.
Fuzzy radio sounds and blips disturbed her delirium, and rough arms grabbed and dragged her, and she was lifted high, high into the sky beneath whirring rotor blades, and the dinghy was left, abandoned, amid the rolling waves.

Five Sentence Fiction: Cherish

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Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use)
She ducked and muttered gripping the washing basket, as Action Man leaped from the banister and a torrent of Matchbox cars raced down the hallway, biting at her heels. 
She expertly ‘shivered’ her ‘timbers’ as she hopped over strategically placed plumped-up cushion stepping stones in a treacherous ocean of stormy blue carpet. 
She avoided the mad hullabaloo, as the cat screeched and narrowly escaped an afternoon of captivity beneath an overturned cardboard box that suddenly became the TARDIS. 
And she managed to survive feeding time at the zoo, in spite of demands to feed the tiger and the lion first and allow the monkey the meal of his choice.
She was run ragged in her own home and bossed by the most raucous of little monsters…but she wouldn’t have it any other way…  
Written for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction, go read the other wonderful tales…

Five Sentence Fiction: Delicate Strength

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I adore my dragons and two other pieces connect with this piece: Devotion and To Protect…
(Please do not use without permission from the artist)

Gwawr’s eyes swam with unshed tears; after hours of waiting she desperately wanted to hear the shell crack, to see tiny dragon claws tearing at the sticky amniotic sac, and her baby emerging exhausted, but safe and she yearned to lick her offspring clean, tickling soft scales, watching baby dragon reflexes, anxious to see its tummy curling inwards as she roughly licked its sensitive newborn skin. The opaque shell shivered and a resounding crack echoed through the cave; a long, thin crack ran down the side of the shell, it widened then clamped shut as the pressure from within collapsed – Gwawr uttered another frustrated cry and the fracture began to open again. The unborn creature struggled and the egg rocked violently before coming to yet another standstill; the soft tapping restarted, and with each tap the thin cracks grew until suddenly a tiny horn protruded through the shell. The horn retreated into the egg then drove through, shell fragments splintered and littered the floor beneath the nest, and the baby dragon exerted every last bit of energy rupturing the thick sac surrounding it inside the confines of the egg. A spout of water gushed and claws tore wildly at the shell, until thick pieces collapsed under the strain and a bedraggled, scrawny baby dragon fell out, as his lungs heaved and he struggled for breath, Gwawr snapped out of her trance and curled her tail protectively around her newborn, she licked and rubbed him, and sighed in relief as the tiny creature let out a cough and splutter, then she giggled almost uncontrollably and allowed her tears to drop, helping to wash the dragon clean.

I’ve wanted to write this piece for a bit, and I really wanted it to fit with this week’s word: Delicate at Five Sentence Fiction from Lillie McFerrin. Take a look at all the entries… I also want to thank artist Amanda Makepeace for giving me permission to use her digital painting The Dragon’s Egg, it was the beautiful picture I had in my mind for this piece. You can find more of her amazing art available for sale on her site at www.redbubble.com/people/amandamakepeace. And if anyone’s wondering how to pronounce the Welsh name Gwawr it is: Gwour and means ‘Dawn’.

Five Sentence Fiction: Forgotten

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“So let me tell you about last night, there I was all curled up cosy, head beneath the duvet, heavy breathing, not for any sordid reason mind, just to warm up the icy bed…and my mind began to wander. That half hour, you know the one, before sleep overcomes consciousness, is precious and thoughts of all kinds swim in the murky depths of my brain. No point letting the day’s events wallow, don’t need to rehash that which I can’t change, so I think, I muse, I ruminate – the cogs turn and the gears jump and my imagination escapes with me…
So last night, just before succumbing to slumber, I had the mother of all ideas, the biggest twist and the most amazing denouement in all of history – the best ever best-seller planned out in the utmost detail, right there in my head!
Now I sit with the humming of my laptop heckling me and an illumined blank page scorning my brain as I delve deep inside in vain…and my novel, my best-seller, my way out of here, in the bright light of day – is all but forgotten…”

Written, tongue-in-cheek for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction check out the other writers in this week’s prompt: Forgotten.

Five Sentence Fiction: Inspire

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Photo By Lisa Shambrook www.flickr.com
She’d sailed the seven seas, single-handed, in a tin boat, thwarting pirates and sea monsters…and huge octopus, tentacled things.
She’d prepared banquets for lords and ladies, with the finest of menu’s written in glittering gold on the finest emerald paper, with cupcakes and chocolate dessert.
She had conquered the final frontier, flown amid the stars in the cockpit of her silver rocket, discovering new planets and greeting aliens in green.
She married Prince Charming and climbed the castle’s crumbling tower, and proclaimed her love and devotion to her loyal subjects below.
“Time’s up sweetie!” came the call, and her mother wandered up the garden path gathering teddies and dolls up into the old tin bath, chuckling at the soggy mud-pies sitting atop gold-glittered leaves,  and she called her daughter down from the tree, smiling at her tattered wings and the happy-tired grin on her face. 
Written for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction 
Take a look at the other entries…

Five Sentence Fiction: Midnight

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Image by Bekah Shambrook (Please do not use without permission) 
She shivered violently as fear chilled her to the bone, and her heart pummelled her rib cage as the reassuring murmur of the television downstairs ceased. 
She pulled the covers over her head and breathed softly, her hot breath creating a claustrophobic atmosphere of suffocation beneath the duvet.
The landing light clicked off, pipes clanked as the central heating went to bed and she surfaced from her cocoon. Frigid midnight air chilled her face, lacing her mind with frost, and she stared with wide eyes into the blackness of her bedroom.
She gathered the duvet tight around her shoulders and waited, hiccupping with portentous tears and resignation, and when the demon arrived there was nothing left but silent despair.
Check out more amazing writers at Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction.

Five Sentence Fiction: Ending

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Photograph by Bekah Shambrook (please do not use without permission)

She watched him walk away.
Forget those Princess dreams, forget those ‘love will conquer all’ quotes, forget the ‘happily ever after’, life just doesn’t play those games.
She watched him glance back with pain in his blue eyes and a single tear slipping down his cheek. Her own heart threatened to crack, but the ice was too thick, and she quickly hugged her arms around her shivering body, locked her heart deep down in the icy cavern and walked away.
She refused to look back.

Written for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction,
take a look at the other entries…

Visual Dare #34:Kiss and Five Sentence Fiction: Vision

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Anonymous Legacy’s Visual Dare #34: Kiss and
Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction: Vision

The room was clinical and sparse, but comfortable despite its mint green walls and overly starched bed linen. Dad stood by the window, his hands in his pockets, staring out with his lost puppy-dog expression and Meg knew he wasn’t checking the tears that slipped down his face.
She bit her lip and gazed at her heavily medicated mum.
Meg leaned across the bed and rested her cheek against her mother’s soft face. Her kiss elicited no response and Meg closed her eyes picturing, just for once, that she had a normal mum, and she bit back her conflicting resentment.

(100 Words)

(Five Sentences)

Five Sentence Fiction: Devotion

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Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)

A pale, yellow moon rose over the mountain crags and their necks entwined as they basked in buttermilk moonlight. Her wings shone, sparkling iridescent, as she nuzzled her mate, and he nipped playfully as he stretched his turquoise wings. They soared beneath the blanket of night, spiralling down to the outcrop and landing at the mouth of their cave.
Deep within the rocks, deep inside, safely ensconced amongst jewels and a nest of gems, rested their treasure.
Rays of pale moonlight swam through the cavern and Gwawr’s lavender mist filled the hollow; as her smoke cleared, Dynevor blew a fierce, golden flame at his companion’s feet and warmed their cherished, marbled egg.

Written for the wonderful Lilliemcferrin’s Five Sentence Fiction 
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