October 10, 2014
|Photo prompt at Sunday Photo Fiction|
Little Brian, who accompanied his dad on his morning walk, was intrigued by the monument that had two forked out, crawled figures atop a stone.
Brian’s dad sat him down and explained, “Son, the choices taken when at a fork will decide if you can swim against the tide or sink with the wave.”
The match was poised evenly. Yet, the tension in Brian’s team was palpable for various reasons, and at halftime, Brian broke away from it all to mull over.
Sweat dripping, Brian sank into the chair, eyes closed. His temples throbbed as his mind replayed the game. He could not underplay the silent war of number- snatching and record building between him and his forward partner.
Brian wiped out his sweat and swept a glance at the crowd. His dad’s smiling face looked out and he gave Brian a ‘thumbs up’ sign. That was his cue.
The game resumed.
The shuffle, the scuttle continued, the chances came close and so did egos. Looks got exchanged, one gave in, the other gratefully took over, the ball was passed in time and the goal achieved.
Brian’s dad cheered the most from the stand as he saw more than what others could see. Brian had managed to swim against the tide.
Word count: 213
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction
Every week on a Sunday, a new photo is used as a prompt for Flash Fiction challenge using around 200 words based on that image. Your story does not have to be exactly what the item in the photo is as long as there is at least a reference to it. You can make it anything you want, and enjoy what you write, and we will as well.
Click to put up your own entry or read other entries here.
October 9, 2014
Alex sat with an awkward pose; his eyes carried the look of hurt and rejection from being side-lined by the other boisterous boys of his age.
“Such a weirdo, cannot even judge a simple catch!”
“Have you noticed, he never looks in the eye? Gives me the creeps”
The words no longer numbed Amy as she bravely fought the world for her autistic son.
“I see a genius in him” Gerald, his music teacher, had told her once and she believed him.
Amy knew she had won as Alex’s fingers played magically on the keyboard and silenced the apathetic world.
|PHOTO PROMPT Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields|
October 7, 2014
“Doctor, I can’t stop when I get the urge,” declared Gerry, his arms shaking and fingers twitching!
“The monstrous voices in my head keep pleading until I give in,” continued Gerry encouraged by the kind doctor’s sympathetic nod.
“My wife is just sick of me and has given me an ultimatum, failing which, she has threatened to leave me,” tears pricked Gerry’s eyes as he whispered the last line feeling like an absolute failure.
The doctor took a deep breath and cleared his throat before pronouncing Gerry's diagnosis and medication, “Gerry, you suffer from acute Writobiatics, a condition in which the hunger to write does not subside until the patient unleashes the flood of words on to a sheet; it is incurable and the patient is mostly confined to using the crutch of a pen or a keyboard throughout his life.”
“However,” the doctor added, causing Gerry’s feelings to change from utter disbelief to immense relief, “You can manage the symptoms well if you follow a healthy diet of writing and reading at stipulated times in the day/night, so that the manifestation does not affect your personal life, and additionally, join a writer’s club to learn how other similarly afflicted people cope.”
Linking this to the Five Sentence Fiction prompt: Hunger at Lillie Mcferrin Writes.
After writing this, I happened to Google and found that there is indeed a similar medical condition that exists, called Hypergraphia.
October 6, 2014
Megan daintily held the long handle and preened into the oval-shaped frame. Puckering her rosy, full lips, she chirped vainly,
“Is there anyone else as beautiful as I, say, oh, truthful mirror!?”
Rose, who had her nose buried into a book, looked up at Megan from above her thick-rimmed spectacles and sniggered,
“A la wicked queen from Snowhite? Must, say, some resemblance there!”
Bubbling with anger at the snide remark, Megan aimed her object of fascination perfectly at Rose’s head.
Rose caught the bookmark neatly between hysterical laughs, placed it between the pages and rushed to console her little sister.
Word count: 100