Category Archives: Flash fiction

Another Sue Vincent’s #Thursday photo prompt: Man of Honour #writephoto #Villanelle


I had never been to St. julians in Bardington. It was a red sandstone parish church with what appeared to be a tower which may have dated from Norman times. I entered the church and was immediately struck by the light streaming through the stained glass windows on all sides. Beside the nave there was a set of black railings with gold fluting. Behind which a large marble tomb stood in it’s own chapel. A freshly picked rose, it’s red in sharp contrast to the white stone, was placed on the finely carved chest. A piece of paper rested on the stone. Intrigued, I passed through the bars to get a closer look. I picked up the paper and read the words finely written in black. There was no clue who had left the words so carefully laid out. They read;

My duty to protect this knight

all worldly woes no more to bear

reclining in his endless night.

A man of honour in God’s sight

with faithful friends and wife so fair,

my duty to protect this knight.

Death hides his fearful face in flight

for shame at causing such despair,

reclining in his endless night.

A bloom of beauty clasping tight

beneath his gentle marble stare,

my duty to protect this knight,

whose life was spent in God’s good fight

both piety and courage rare,

reclining in his endless night.

We pray he sits in heaven bright

his soul released from earthly care

my duty to protect this knight

reclining in his endless night.


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

First Line Friday: January 4th, 2019

The borderlands grew wider and wilder every year. Old Seth had had plenty of years in which to note the changes. Now he felt tired. Of working, of the burning desert sun, of his aching limbs, failing eyesight and his life in general. 

Every year there were more repairs needed in the shack and since his two, now adult boys never thought to visit no-one was able to give him a hand. Neighbors never called, in fact it had only just dawned on him that he had no neighbors. The encroaching desert sands and ever increasing summer temperatures had cleared the land far more thoroughly than a team of property developers ever could.

He was beginning to regret the lack of trees. Nowhere to organise a good hanging, even if it was your own. He sat down on one of the scorched boulders and idly ran the sand through his fingers, perhaps he could will himself to death in the way the old occupiers  of the land did.

Resolved to try he closed his eyes.

Whether by accident or design the midday sun saved him the effort. Four days later the body was discovered when a real estate team happened to be passing on their way to his farm.



Leave a comment

Filed under As you read it, dystopian view, Flash fiction, Self compositions, Temperatures rising



Capain Cook Sir, the natives are sending us a message.


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

Sue Vincent’s #Thursday photo prompt: Setting #writephoto

And all those gathered on the Plain of Saarkand breathed a sigh of relief as one.

For as they looked to the East, the first rays of the New Sun arose over the hill that was called The Old Maid’s breast.
The harsh days of the cold season were past until the dark days arrived once more, as ordained by the Spirits of Earth and Sky.

With the rising of the sun the dark shadow of the beast, which the more superstitious among them had perceived as Kerhaan, the Dragon of Darkness, began to fade and crumble into glowing silver clouds. Soon to fall as life-giving rain on the high mountains. The rivers would flow freely once more down to the barren plain.

So would begin the new life phase.

Encouraged by the daily, ever-rising heat of the sun and the watering of the beast’s blood the farmers could once more begin the tilling of the earth and the sowing of the seed.

The Elders would continue to offer the sacrifice to the Ancestors and if they were not displeased once more would they fill the grain stores and feed their flocks.

Life for all would be good again.


Filed under Alternative history, As you read it, Flash fiction, nature inspired, Old knowledge, Self compositions, Temperatures rising

#Sunday Photo Fiction – December 16, 2018


Photo Credit: Anurag Bakhshi

Looking down from our seats in the helicopter it was obvious. Our suspicions were confirmed.

Notwithstanding the difficulty these people must have experienced in transporting  themselves, their families and all  the materials necessary, to this remote volcanic island.  A small piece of land which would not ordinarily merit inclusion on most maps of the world. Somehow they had bypassed all the planning regulations so carefully monitored and enforced by the government.

Instead of the the small group of tents and temporary camp the wild-life film crew had assured them would be all that was necessary,  they had managed to build a virtual community.  They had built everything,  houses, a school, shopping mall and all the other needs of a small town.

The planning officer would not be very happy when I returned with the film footage.

Leave a comment

Filed under Flash fiction, Self compositions, Whimsical

#Tenword photo prompt


Sting looked down, great idea for a song, “he thought.”

Leave a comment

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

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie #Photo Challenge #242

can choir

This was the hardest job I had ever undertaken since giving up my day job to become a stand-up comedian.

When I got a call from the BBC I thought my luck was in, my fortune made.

I soon changed my mind when they explained that I would be the warm-up guy entertaining the audience so that they could record the canned laughter for the radio shows.



Filed under Flash fiction, Self compositions, Whimsical

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie #First Line Fridays December 7th, 2018

500FEE93-4657-46B3-8782-F4639425B3E4Florence paused at the door, “what the hell did you just say?”

She watched as their only daughter Susan, wearing a face like thunder had jumped into her car and  set off up up the road with a screech of tyres and a trail of smoke.

Her husband Jim, sitting at the table looked guiltily at his wife. Then he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth turning up as he started to smile.

“All I said was if she was going to sit outside wearing any less clothes, the neighbours would think she’d forgotten the bathtub. It was only a joke. I didn’t think she was that touchy.”

“Oh Jim, after all these years, will you never learn?”

1 Comment

Filed under Flash fiction, Self compositions, Whimsical

Sue Vincent’s #Weeklyphotoprompt #Write photo #Untrodden


The only sound to break the silence of the cold, moorland peace was a solitary car engine as it proceeded along the narrow roadway. The engine tone changed and there was a moment of quiet before the sound of grating metal and the breaking of glass hinted at some form of accident. Then all was quiet again apart from the plaintive mew of a buzzard, circling high in the flat, grey sky. The only witness to what had befallen.

Sarah woke with a start. She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts and remember what had happened. The last thing she could remember wasf rantically trying to control her car as it span before sliding broadside into the hedge. To no avail, the brakes had had no effect due to the closely packed snow and she remembered the jolt as she came to a halt. She instantly regretted waiting too long in the town before setting off for her parent’s cottage on the moor. It had been foolish not to leave as soon as the snow started to fall.

The driver’s door was open and she reached to her left where  her bag was sitting on the passenger seat. Although her head felt fuzzy at least she was physically uninjured but she dreaded looking at the probable damage to her car. She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. The screen was blank, no signal. Realising that it was unlikely any other car would be travelling on the snow-covered road she thought it would be best to find a farmhouse to make a call. Luckily the crash had occurred close to a gateway through which a track led up to the right. Hoping it would be a farm track she slid off of her seat and out of the open door. Sarah wrapped her scarf around her mouth but she had no gloves. Despite the snow though, it was warmer than she had expected.

Although she couldn’t see a building she could see a glow at the top of the track. It looked as though the sun was breaking through the cloud in watery beams. The snow had stopped falling and taking her bag she started to trudge up the track. Her footsteps muffled by the deep blanket of snow. As she neared the top she could see that the glow was not sunlight but curiously looked like the entrance to a cave carved out of a soft, rounded form of rock. It was hazy which she thought was probably due to a smoky fire although she could not smell it. Through the entrance she could make out two figures sitting at a table just looking at each other. She called out but they didn’t seem to hear her. As she approached one of the figures looked up and only then appeared to notice her approach. He or she raised one arm in a wave and appeared to beckon to her as if inviting her in. Sarah could see the figure’s mouth opening but could hear no words and their face looked shiny and flushed with a light yellow glow which looked welcoming and warm. Sarah became confused, she looked over her shoulder and was shocked to see no footprints leading from the car. She cast her mind back to how she had left the car without removing her seatbelt. Only then did she realise her situation and her tears began to flow.



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

Carrot ranch #Flash Fiction: 15th November #scraps

Josiah’s whiskers twitched excitedly. The smell of putrefaction invaded his nostrils.It had been a lean couple of weeks but there was a hint of good times to come.

He had crouched watching the working men for two days. Had they seen him they  would have shouted at him and tried to beat him with their shiny-ended sticks but they had been too intent on their task.

Flowers now covered the dark patch of loose soil but he knew it was easy to burrow down and feast upon the box of scraps they always left in these strange caves.



Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, No offence intended, Self compositions