Category: Flash Fiction

Road Trip

Chris Hall42 Comments

Photo by Ken Cheung on Unsplash

previously

The red-headed writer had never met this guy until just now, although they had been friends for several years, as they had been doing posts in the ether (or at least in a phone or laptop); there had lost touch for a while doing other things, but it didn’t matter now as there were both grinning.

For a couple of hours they talked and joked, what a beautiful place, she said, several times, as Bjorn laughed just like a bear; he drove long and hard on the plateaus and in the valleys, but then he turned off to a small location, almost right by the sea: ‘there’s my spot, he said.

They sat down in the warm and cozy house – there was toast and sardines with whisky – as they looked out on the wilderness.

Then it was 10.30 pm and it’s dark and she’s tired now; meanwhile, Bjorn was doing strange things in his computer, ‘bits’ and ‘bots’ and ‘non-fungible tokens’ – of which she knew nothing and she smiled as she went to bed, wrapped up next to her huge big bag.

She woke up and it was almost light; she went out and down to the beach, how many grains of sand are there, could she hold just one in her hand? and then it happened…

Suddenly, a green smudge of light materialised as the magical spectacle began; it skipped across the darkness of space, while the shimmering liquid flames danced around the sky: it was the aurora borealis.

next episode

~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~

Denise Farley of Girlie On The Edge
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: GRAIN

More #SixSentenceStories

May Day

Chris Hall55 Comments

© Ayr/Gray

previously

The ash and sulphur became so dense as the plane banked horribly and listed alarmingly – mayday, mayday – shouted the captain; at this point, the red-head writer, aka the Raconteuse, had so many thoughts but then she blacked out, which was just as well, since the plane lost power: it shuddered and quivered but it glided on the ice.

Just a few minutes later she’d recovered, she stared around, the plane was crippled and in a bad way, but it seemed that everyone was safe; and even better the volcano was silent again, just a few plumes of moulted rock and ash around.

The red-head writer realised that it would be a very long way to walk, but what else would she do; she decided that she would go alone and quickly – she was wearing all her warm clothes and she had a big bag – everything she needed.

She looked at her GPS, then set out.

She had been walking at least two hours, there was no ice now and it’s easier to walk, but suddenly the steep shale made her tumbled down, she had a long fall and stopped, she was rather shaken but soon recovered; now she saw a bank with deep water where the stream levels out – and here was the road.

A little later, she saw a huge car, she waved with her big bag, and it stopped; she smiled happily as she was whisked away by an excellent friend who drives too fast.

next episode

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted for The Unicorn Challenge, a magical challenge hosted by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr, where they provide a photo and we, in turn, provide up to 250 words.

Di of Pensitivity 101 – Wednesday’s Three Things Challenge: SHUDDER, SHAKE, QUIVER

Denise Farley of GirlieOnTheEdge
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: LEVEL

More #SixSentenceStories

Flight 45

Chris Hall59 Comments

https://unsplash.com/@usgs

previously

The red-headed writer, aka the Raconteuse, had been staying in her bolt hole place, a tiny flat right up on the rickety stairs, in Montmartre, near the cemetery; a useful place where she’d already sold her little picture for her tidy profit, just a week ago.

Now it was time to go, she grabbed her important things in her big bag; all she would need was some new warm clothes, buying them from a small boutique shop.

Soon she was making her way to the train, taking her to Charles de Gaulle airport, where she had been many times; she also liked to move around from place to place, often in different continents, but she’d never been to Iceland, it would be the coldest place she’d ever been.

After the usual performance to get in the plane and take off, including keeping her eyes shut for a couple of minutes, everything was fine; now she was quite happy to enjoy her gin and tonic, and look forward to seeing some of her friends from the Cafe, although what there were all doing was a mystery to her for the moment.

About three hours later, she’d been reading most of the time, but now there was a great deal of turbulence, as she put everything away and buckled up her seat belt tightly; she looked out from the window, and suddenly a huge plume of fire burst out from the volcano as it erupted.

‘Brace, brace, brace,’ yelled the captain.

next episode

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Denise Farley of Girlie On The Edge
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: TONIC


More #SixSentenceStories

.

At the gallery

Chris Hall45 Comments

© Ayr/Gray

She stared around the gallery. The main room had all the great masters in the old wing, very dull, she thought, but this part is new and rather posh, how nice.

She lifted a glass from the tray, sipping the bubbly, then she glided around the room. Some rather good paintings, modern in an interesting way but nothing particularly could her eye. But then she sees an imposing sculpture. It rears up, a hooded man and a gaping maw, and it looks rather frightening. Does his expression reflect the artist’s angst?

Apocalypse by Cliff Davies

She made her way up to the second floor. Then suddenly two men – clearly artists – both of them held up their fists. She hedged away, gripping her glass in her hand. People began to stare. Then a moment later, the fight began on the staircase. But it finished as quickly as it started. What was that about, she wondered, as the two artists shook hands and left.

Two hours later, her flight was called. She smiled quietly as she’d acquired a little picture from the gallery wall, where she’d stashed her big bag.

next episode

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted for The Unicorn Challenge, a magical challenge hosted by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr, where they provide a photo and we, in turn, provide up to 250 words.

Di of Pensitivity 101
Saturday’s Three Things Challenge: FIGHT, FLIGHT, FRIGHT

Cape Storm

Chris Hall57 Comments

It moaned and raged across the south coast, right up to the highest mountains.

The storm lashed and buffeted the tallest trees, traumatising animals and people living in their shacks.

The birds, shaking with fear, crept in the hollows and bushes, while the squirrels hunkered down in the deep dreys as the huge palm tree swayed around our garden.

From morning to night the storm raged, and raged again; we looked out into the street where the fire and rescue truck had managed to take down a broken great tree, what a relief, but not before we saw terror in the faces of several people

And finally, in the morning, there was no wind or rain.

At least we all have our houses – the walls, the doors, the windows and the roofs – but everything else is such a mess, and we will only talk about the present at the moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Di of Pensitivity 101
Wednesday’s Three Things Challenge: TRAUMA, FEAR, TERROR

Denise Farley of Girlie On The Edge
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: PRESENT


By the way, this was all true and it was just two weeks ago.

Shall I Stay or Shall I Go

Chris Hall53 Comments

© Ayr/Gray

‘Please can I have my life back,’ she said. ‘Is it too much to ask?’

She can stride around the garden and she can run up and down the stairs, several times.
She’s so fit but she can’t go out.

But there’s no one. No one at all.

Quiet, very quiet, she thinks.

She looks at the big door; the one that opens in the street, and she looks back in the hall, for a moment.

Then slowly, very slowly, she opens the door, just a tiny crack.
She opens a little more – a creaking sound – then nothing.

She looks out, staring left and right.

‘Shall I come out?’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted for The Unicorn Challenge, a magical challenge hosted by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr, where they provide a photo and we, in turn, provide up to 250 words.


A little hiatus (Tales from the SSC&B)

Chris Hall50 Comments

The red-headed writer, aka the Raconteuse, slides down onto the small flat-roofed section of the old mill building, scanning around while holding her huge bag. The most important new thing was the swanky penthouse on the opposite street where the Bartender stays there most of the time, particularly when the lovely dog, Hūnga, was home too; she’d invited her to stay but the red-head had declined.

She’d had thought about it, but she felt she should stay somewhere else – and in fact, she’d made a little nest, just next to the long-defunct elevator machine room on the top floor, that was all she needed.

She took out her notebook and pencil and started to write, but nothing would come out; she stares at the sky and then she tries again, but no, nothing. She decided to read her new Kindle – she has a lot of catching up to do – but it’s worth it; she settles down on her great big bag, making herself comfy.

Rather later she woke up, but now she’s refreshed and she’s happy to go down to the ground floor; it’s time to enjoy the evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Denise Farley of GirlieOnTheEdge’s Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: SLIDE

More #SixSentenceStories


Equinox

Chris Hall66 Comments

© Ayr/Gray

It’s late afternoon as I walked along the sand dunes near the sea, smiling as I hopped down the bank to the beach, striding along to the rock pools, then poking around to see what was there; I could be busy for hours.

As it was getting into evening, it was still warm as I walked around the edge of the ocean, looking far out in the lovely False Bay; then I looked back at the harbour, as I waved at Jannie who’s a fishermen, who works to catch squid and octopus in the dark sea in the night.

Much later, I flung open my window, and there she was, the beautiful moon, Selene. There she stood alone, with all the stars around her; her gibbous moon lay on her back, arching her jewelled scimitar.

I shut my eyes for a moment, and then I saw the octopuses dancing up in the sky, shooting stars around the world, for twice a year it’s the equinox, as the celestial moon brings the spring rebirth, while the harvest moon must rest for the winter. Meanwhile, the octopuses play in the Milky Way, because all of the octopuses are aliens.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted for The Unicorn Challenge, a magical challenge hosted by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr, where they provide a photo and we, in turn, provide up to 250 words.

Denise Farley of GirlieOnTheEdge’s Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: BANK

More #SixSentenceStories

Harvest Moon

Chris Hall59 Comments

© Ayr/Gray

The red-headed writer, aka the Raconteuse, had a plan – she was on WhatsApp with Jenne, Denise and Mimi, telling them that she was still a little magic left in her journey around the world; we’ll meet tomorrow, and don’t worry about the different time zones, I’ll handle it.

Now they were sitting in a beautiful wine garden in the château in Franschhoek, right by the vineyards where they are bringing back the harvest – you see, it was autumn in the southern hemisphere. In a little while two waiters brought wine, juice and delicious food; then they rested – it was so peaceful and calm, and they must have drifted into slumber for a while.

Later, they woke up and it was almost dark; they walked along the Huguenots Monument and further, now it was rather steep, rugged and remote; they laid down on the sweet fynbos, and there it is, the Harvest Moon, huge yellow and magnificent – but that was all they could remember.

Did we dream it – all of us – in different places? But no, on the table, each one has a small silver box and inside it has a little locket; WhatsApp pings, it’s the Raconteuse, you know, it’s going to be useful one day, she said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted for The Unicorn Challenge, a magical challenge hosted by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr, where they provide a photo and we, in turn, provide up to 250 words.

Denise Farley of Girlie On The Edge’s Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: REMOTE

Click on the Café sign for more #SixSentenceStories

P.S. I am reading ‘The Moon of Autumn: Word Weaving No.1‘ edited by Colleen Chesebro & Jules Paige – I know so many lovely people in WP.

A celebration?

Chris Hall60 Comments

Previously

The red-headed writer, aka the Raconteuse, hurries along the narrow street, looking up and down and around, checking to see what is unchanged: here’s the Bagel’n’Cake place (closed at this time, of course), and here are the two warehouses, rather dingy, on either side.

She’s almost there… and here it is: The Café and Bistro, she holds her hands up, but there’s no one there; she’s deflated, she dropped her head and her feet felt like lead.

She notices something at the top of the steps, it was a still-smouldering cigar butt on the ground – it must be him, the Gatekeeper, who else could it be?

She hurries down to the three steps by the double-doors, peering in the gloom in the long bar and high seats, and across the way to the food pass behind the doors; she could almost see what should be happening – the Bartender with the wine and whisky, and Mimi in the kitchen, and Tom as well.

Then she turns around, going back up, scanning around; there’s something about the back of The Café and Bistro, she races around the building, heaving her big bag, she peeps in the basement, now she’s making headway; she can hear music, in her mind’s eye, she listens, isn’t it Mark Knopfler playing ‘Sultans of Swing’ and wearing his headband?

The Raconteuse grins and she can see the Manager, smiling back and waving; he cranks up the volume and plays, ‘Ace of Spades’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written in response to two challenges:

Di of Pensitivity 101’s Wednesday’s Three Things Challenge: HEADWAY, HEADBAND, LEAD
Denise Farley of Girlie On The Edge’s Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: ACE

Click on the Café sign for more #SixSentenceStories