Old Crow

Kika and his brother Hakan were walking through the woods in search of blueberries for Grandmother’s pie. Across the stream, Hakan noticed a bush ripe with berries.

“There are enough berries for two pies on that bush,” said Hakan, stepping into the stream.

In the tree above sat Old Crow, cawing “Danger, Danger.” Hearing the warning, Kika pleaded with his brother to return. “Do you not hear Old Crow?” he asked.

“That old bird is a trickster. He wants the berries for himself.”

Old Crow persisted with each step Hakan took, but the berries were too inviting for Hakan to return. When Hakan safely reached the other shore, he turned to Old Crow and laughed.

“Maybe I will leave a berry or two for your dinner.” He then filled his basket with the juicy berries.

By now Hakan was hungry and it would be hours before Grandmother baked the pie. As Hakan placed a handful of berries in his mouth, Old Crow cawed even louder than before. But his warning was unheeded and within moments, Hakan’s stomach burned in pain, causing him to fall into the stream. The berries had been poison.

With that, Old Crow flew away.

 

I hope you enjoyed my story. Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner is a weekly challenge to write a 200-word story, inspired by a photography. Stories for this week can be found at flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2017-week-32

 

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The Coming Storm

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PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Tornados rarely formed during the hot Oklahoma summer, but the still, humid air signaled a coming storm. Joe stood on his porch, watching. Hearing footsteps, he turned and saw a man standing a few feet away, a baseball bat in hand.

“Jesus Boone, you scared the shit out of me. What’s up with the….”

The bat connected with Joe’s head before he could finish the sentence. Toppling off the porch, Joe landed in the dirt, blood pooling in the dead grass. As thunder clapped, Boone raced toward the road.

Standing in the shadows of the front door, a small figure watched everything.

<<count 102>>

This story was inspired by Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s Friday Fictioneer’s . Thanks to Rochelle for providing this week’s photo.

 

Sunday Photo Fiction – Never Goodbye

 

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Photo Prompt by Al Forbes

Theirs’s was a romance that was never quite in synch.

They met by chance, in an off-the-beaten-path coffee shop, far from home. In that absent-minded way of his that she learned to love, he bumped into her, spilling coffee all over her blouse.

Embarrassed and apologetic, he offered to pay for the cleaning.

“Only if you have dinner with me,” she said. “Wear the bow-tie. It suits you.”

They hit it off at once, soul-mates one might say. Both were avid travelers, but their travels rarely took them to the same place. For many years they never knew when they would see each other again, but he was always there when she needed him.

Sadly, nothing lasts forever and they knew their time together was about to end. Trouble was, he did not like endings.

They met for the last time where it all began. She bought the coffee. He told her the only way he could accept her leaving was to believe they might see each other again someday.

“I must believe it is possible,” he said.

“What would you have me say?” she asked.

“Say good-bye as if you will be coming back.”

“Well then…See you around.”

 

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge to write a short 200-word story inspired by a photograph. This week’s photo is provided by Al Forbes.  The final dialogue of this story was loosely taken from the May 18, 2013 Doctor Who episode called “The Name of the Doctor”, in which River Song and The Doctor say good-bye for the last time.

Deadly Curiousity

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Photo Prompt by C.E. Ayr

Charlie got what Granddad called, ‘a wild hair.’

“Ever wonder about that rock?” The black boulder seemed out of place in the middle of the cow pasture.

“Granddad said stay about from it,” brother Jimmy replied.

“I bet that’s where he buried his gold from Alaska. Race you!”

Upon reaching the rock, Charlie noticed a large hollow. Instead of finding treasure, Charlie’s hand found a nest of copperheads. His screams filled the air. Then Jimmy felt a bite on his foot.

As deadly venom filled his veins, Jimmy turned to his dying brother.

“Granddad say stay away from the rock.”

 

This story was inspired by Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s . Friday Fictioneer’s. This week’s photo prompt is provided by C.E. Ayr

Sunday Photo Fiction: Secret Agent Man

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Photo Prompt by Al Forbes

After months of secret negotiations, we reached an agreement. The information I held was so top-secret that the only logical place for exchange was in plain sight. Concerned for my own safety, I insisted on a place public and what’s more public than the London Eye. I arrived early, suspicious of a set-up. I may just be a reporter but I’ve read enough crime fiction to know that ‘come alone’ is just a suggestion. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, I entered the glass pod as it slowly inched its way above the London skyline. My contact stood next to the window railing. The pink flamingo tie gave him away. I moved next to him and we exchanged pleasantries, as tourists do. Then came the fun part. I reached inside my jacket for the envelop. Proof that could destroy democracy. My hands shook and the coolness on my brow came from sweat.

Crime novels don’t lie. I felt the sharp stab at my left side, producing a slight dampness near my ribcage. To my right, pink flamingo tie whispered, “You’re coming with us.”

I looked through the glass at London below, knowing it would be for the last time.

 

 

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge to write a short, 200-word story inspired by a photograph. Many thanks go to Al Forbes for supplying this week’s photo.

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Friday Fictioneers: In Fear

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Photo prompt by Janet Webb

Sandra stood at the front window, watching. Outside, the neighbor boy tossed a ball in the air and across the street, old Mrs. Hudson watered the roses that lined the front of her house.
Maybe I will go out today, she thought.
In an instant, Sandra’s heart began to pound as a wave of heat reddened her face. She felt dizzy and dreaded throwing up. Tears swelled in Sandra’s eyes. Once again, disappointment overshadowed her earlier good mood.
In time, the fear subsidies. But Sandra would not be leaving the house today.
Maybe tomorrow.

 

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This story was inspired by a photo prompt posted on Friday Fictioneer’s July 14, 2017 , a weekly challenge to write a complete story in 100 words or less. Photo Prompt provided by Janet Webb.

 

 

Friday Fictioneers: 2024

Photo Prompt by Claire Sheldon

The words litter the walls of my cubicle:

Happiness is Productivity

Every morning, I dive into bliss, glad to be fruitful. Robotics have replaced meaningful jobs and attending University is unattainable, except for the uber-wealthy. Fearing the words ‘welfare state,’ the Government creates jobs for workers like me, so we too stay productive.

I am a ‘Stapler.’

Daily, I receive stacks of paper, filled with meaningless words. I separate, stack, and staple. Eight hours a day. At the end of my shift, I gather my packets and pass them to Pete in the next cubicle.

Pete is the ‘Un-stapler.’

 

This story was inspired not only by the great George Orwell’s 1984, but also by a photo prompt posted on Friday Fictioneer’s a weekly challenge to write a complete story in 100 words or less. Photo Prompt provided by Clare Sheldon