Category Archives: Flash fiction

Thursday photo prompt: Avenue #writephoto


It was the time of Sennei again. We stand in our lines,  along the avenue known as the windwhistle corridor, males to the left, females to the right.

We all lean forward holding our magnificent freshly green head-dresses steady. Having practised our lines for many days we bow low and whisper our self-composed love sonnets in the allocated ear of our chosen intended.

Each of us males has a rival with whom we stand shoulder to shoulder facing a selected female, hoping that the young future brides would choose us. If she cannot make a decision between the two beaus chosen for her then duels will have to take place. The prize, a bride with whom to mate and procreate.

For now, while the breeze is gentle the only sound that the people walking between us would hear is the familiar, soft rustling  of the leaves. All oblivious to the seriousness of the ritual taking place above their heads.

If a duel becomes necessary then the pair have to wait until there is a gale. Each tree is lashed against his opponent till one gives way. Some of these duels become quite violent with the occasional loss of limbs, even death by uprooting but this is rare as it would not gain anything for the species only the victor.

Most of the time the females are able to choose the strongest of the pair and accept the gentle brushing of their pistils with our anthers containing the fertilising pollen.

Now the wind plays another important role as the seeds may be carried far away from the avenue to land in another inviting area of ground, take root  and at the mercy of the grazing deer or rabbits attempt to start a new plantation of trees. In time they will have their own Sennei in their own avenues.

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Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, nature inspired, Self compositions, Whimsical

Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Fallen #writephoto


Weary after the strenuous afternoon hike through the hot Greek countryside David and Julie lay down to rest in an effort to escape the relentless Mediterranean sun. David heard his partner’s shallow breathing slowly turn to a gentle snore. He found that he couldn’t sleep, he had the nagging feeling that they were being watched.

Warily he sat up and scanned the valley below. Sure enough, he thought he could see movement. He realised it was an old woman slowly picking her way through the undergrowth. She appeared to be carrying a bundle or basket on her head.

He reached out his left arm and shook Julie gently awake. She remained lying as he pointed out the old woman to her. David thought he would call out and see if the old woman was ok, it was very hot in the afternoon sun. Both of them called out, peering in her direction. There was no reply but they watched her as she started to get closer.

David realised his mistake when he noticed the bundle on her head appeared to be moving. His last thought was disbelief when he saw that her hair was in fact a writhing mass of snakes.


Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, Inspired by fable, Self compositions

Sue Vincent’s #Writephoto “Splash”

Amber smiled contentedly. She had arrived at her favourite observation point. None of her siblings were around and the water in the stream was just at the right height to cover the pebbles and leave her unseen. From this vantage point she could watch and listen. “Plop,” she heard the sound of a small object dropping into the water. Darting forward she found the struggling body of a caterpillar that  had dropped from the  overhanging branches. “Success,” she smiled, sucking up the struggling body with relish. Turning she returned to the shelter of a large pebble in wait for the next victim. Only she had realised how productive this small stretch of bankside water was for food and she hadn’t told any of her siblings because she was not in the habit of sharing. That would come later when she had her own brood to look after.
    Unbeknown to Amber a young man was crouching low on the bank above her. He had been scanning the water’s surface and immediately spotted the silver body and bright red fins as Amber had moved forwards. The angler knew that this was his chance. He gently cast his line and the hook with it’s single maggot landed on the water with a single splash in exactly the place where the caterpillar had met it’s fate.
    Amber darted forward, hardly believing her luck. Grabbing the maggot she lazily returned to her resting place, only realising her mistake when she suddenly felt a sharp pain and some unknown force appeared to be pulling her into the bank. She shook her head in the hope that the pain would disappear but could only feel the tugging at her mouth getting stronger. She turned to swim away and in panic made a dive for a patch of weeds to her left. Feeling herself being pulled backwards she swam in a circle around a  broken branch that lay on the riverbed. Instantly the pain in her mouth stopped and she was able to swim back to the middle of the river. She decided that it may be a good idea to return and join her family, perhaps visiting this hunting spot tomorrow when the pain in her mouth may be less.
    On the bank the young angler looked at the broken line from his reel, bemoaning the loss of his float and his bad luck in losing the largest rudd he had ever seen on the river.


Filed under Flash fiction, nature inspired, Self compositions

Twittering Tales #81 – 24 April 2018


She looked out of the window at the seeming endless expanse of the Firth of Tay thinking.

“It was probably such a night as this in 1879. All those poor passengers.”

She felt the train curving to the right ready to go over the bridge.

Like everyone else she crossed her fingers. 277 c.

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Filed under Flash fiction, History, nature inspired, Self compositions

Sue Vincent’s weekly #Writephoto Waiting


Kellerman looked at the huge, carved head in awe. A whole gamut of questions flowed through his mind, the first and most important being who had carved the giant edifice and what did it represent? It could have been a dog, perhaps a stylised vision of it’s creators or even more intriguingly a true to life portrait. The only way to get any answers was to don his safety suit, and take a ride in the exploration module to have a much closer look. Despite some trepidation he knew that this is what they had sent him here to do, although finding evidence of other life forms had not been on the agenda.What alarmed him was the absence of any clearance from the control base. The last vicious lightning storm had closed down any possibility of microwave communication in the foreseeable future. Yet this was an opportunity that could not be missed, the thing had appeared undetected overnight and could easily disappear in the same short timespan. There was no point in waiting he thought, let’s get on with it. He walked through to the robing room and started to don his life support and survival suit, ready to embark on what could turn out to be the most momentous day in his and the whole of martiankind’s history.


Filed under Alternative history, Flash fiction, Otherworldly, Self compositions

MLMM First line Friday 4-14-18

The dance lessons were not working. This, sadly, was the first thought that went through my mind as I gazed down at the forest floor. Oh yes, my little boy, the brightest and gaudiest of last years brood, hopping, arching, extending first one wing then the other. All to no avail, all the hens were watching him, you could see the smiles wrinkling their nostrils in snorts of derision as they shyly turned their laughing heads away, beaks wide open, as if catching fruit flies. It was no good him having lovely iridescent blue wings and orange and crimson breast if he couldn’t do the dance I had spent so long trying to teach him. Oh well, no mate for him, no little grand chicks for me this year. Lessons begin again in the morning.

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Filed under Flash fiction, nature inspired, Self compositions, Whimsical

#SoCS April 14/18 (mon)

“Mon dieu!”

”Boje moy!”

The cries rang out in disbelief and exasperation tempered by apprehension.

The United Nations security council had only agreed on one thing. Each ambassador had discussed the crisis in monosyllabic tones painting  a monotone picture of the situation. Of the five members, after monotonous discussion and argument three had agreed to disagree and it was left to the French and the Russians to persuade their joint members one way or the other. Eloquence in speech was required which could only be guaranteed by harmonic tones from either side. Only this would decide the fate of la monde.

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Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, Self compositions, Whimsical

Sue Vincent’s #Writephoto /Footprints


Joannus Rodriguez took one last look to right and left then quickly ran across the sand.  They had gone. For two days he had been  hiding in the small cave at the base of the cliff. Nobody had thought to climb over the rocks and search the shingle beach  to the West. They had all  been  concerned with the few items that he had left in his small, upturned skiff. These paeons were so predictable, a bundle of gaudy blousons, some cheap stockings and a small cask of cheap brandy had kept them arguing amongst themselves for hours. Now it was time to make his way to  the house of the Throckmortons. Then after a good meal they could commence their spreading of the true faith. They had all the ecclesiastical vestments safely hidden, ready for him to begin his tour of the houses of the faithful. His flock who still supported the old religion before the upstart Elizabeth the frigid cat had driven them  underground.  Those steadfast men and women who were forced to keep their services hidden. Proud in their defiance of those heretics who threatened them with imprisonment, painful tortures and violence, even  death. All for their belief in the true God through his representative on Earth, His Holiness Pope Benedict.

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Filed under Christian, faith, Flash fiction, History, Self compositions

Twittering tale #79





Surfacing, I turned over and lazily stretched my arms. Only then did I hear an excited chattering. Looking round I was confronted by a strange looking creature with four heads pointing weapons towards me. I dived once more in fear. We mermaids are a nervous race. 261c.

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Filed under Flash fiction, Self compositions, Whimsical

Thursday photo prompt: Shelter #writephoto


“Look at that dad!”

”What are you pointing at Joey?” I asked straining my eyes to see what he meant.

”Over there, in the hedge, it’s a big black teddy bear, can I go and talk to him?”

I laughed at the curious bush which even I thought was rather bear-like, “Go on then, see if he wants to come on our walk, but be careful, he might want to gobble you up,” I joked.

Then I said, “Take Sandy with you, you can let him off his lead, if there’s anything there he won’t let them hurt you.”

Joey and Sandy ran up to the hedge, Sandy started to bark loudly, I saw Joey shaking his head and it looked like he was speaking to someone.

Regretting my decision to let him go I decided I had better see who he was talking to. It somehow seemed a bit odd.

Before I had got half way to him I saw the bear like black shape rear up and hearing a high-pitched yelp watched as the dog was enveloped in a black mist before disappearing without another sound. In disbelief I called his name but there was nothing there, no sign of him. Joey was screaming and crying as he ran back to me.

”Dad, dad, what’s happened to Sandy?”

“It’s okay son, he’s probably fallen down a rabbit hole,” I tried to comfort him, we’ll get you back home and then I will come back to look for Sandy.

I could see he was unconvinced but could think of no other explanation to give him, better I thought to get him home to his mother.

So that’s why I’m out in the middle of this field waiting for a couple of friends to start the search for Sandy. But who’s going to believe this?


Filed under Flash fiction, Self compositions, Whimsical