‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #37 Entry Part 4) by Anita Dawes @jaydawes2 #IARTG #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Entry PART 4) for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.” Week #37.

Today I’m featuring a contribution from by Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie.

Last week I set the following Challenge:

Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!” Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing.  Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the image prompt and the contribution.

door-1587023_1920

What would you do if a strange door popped up in your bedroom?
A weird twilight moment
There are no signs, yet I feel it screaming, stay out, do not enter.
How many of us can resist the temptation?
Slowly, I push the door open, stepping into the dark space.
In the blink of an eye, I find myself in the centre of London.
Standing in Trafalgar Square, Nelson towering over me,
Four black lions standing guard, tour buses,
on their way to show eager eyes the Queen’s House
with its high black gated railings
Smart soldiers stand ready while the Queen sleeps,
Flag flying high on the pole.
There is plenty of culture for those who wish it.
Street art drawn with bright colored chalk.
Step inside the History Museum,
see how small you feel against the giant dinosaurs.
Sit on the pews of St Martins Church
Take a rest before going on to Piccadilly,
where Eros stands with bow and arrow in hand
Ride the London Eye, high above the River Thames.
Take a red bus to where you left the strange door,
hoping it’s on the tourist route…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Contact Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie Here .

Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie BLOG

The Author on AMAZON

on TWITTER

Thanks so much for stopping by. I’ll be posting more entries as I receive them.

Find me at …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

On Goodreads.

By Email.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #37 Entry Part 3) by Harmony Kent @harmony_kent #IARTG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to PART 3)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021. Week #37.  Today I’m featuring a contribution by Harmony Kent.

 I set the following Challenge:

Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!” Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing.  Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the image prompt and Harmony’s Contribution.

door-1587023_1920

Faded

‘Who numbers an apartment 13?’ Jake shook his head.

Emma said, ‘Our last house didn’t need superstition to be unlucky.’

Jake shoved the key at the lock and missed. The sharp end scratched the pristine wood of the door. ‘We had a fortunate escape.’

‘Careful!’ Emma snatched the key from him and eased it into the keyhole. The door swung open. The couple shared a glance—not a single creak and a welcome change from their old place.

Nervous, the pair stood in utter silence and listened. Neither wanted to think about what had driven them out of their old—cheaper—home. Though the new flat looked gorgeous, it came at a steep price. How much is peace worth?

After a good five minutes, Emma let out a sigh and galvanised herself into motion. The rooms seemed quiet, non-malevolent, and the pair relaxed. The next few hours saw them busy with the business of moving in. Neither had brought anything from their previous home—not wishing to invite any trouble here. They’d moved clear across town … surely nothing could follow them?

Later that night, pleasantly exhausted from the novelty of physical labour, Jake and Emma fell straight into a deep slumber. In the morning, after the first solid sleep in months, fingers of sunlight pried open their eyelids, and the couple roused.

All was right with the world. Emma rubbed her eyes, yawned, and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. Cold shock struck the soles of her bare feet. She lifted her toes from the chill laminate flooring with a gasp. To the offending wood she said, ‘You look nice but you sure don’t feel good.’ Then, holding her breath in dread anticipation, she lowered her limbs once more, groped with her toes for her slippers, which had slipped under the bed, and snuggled her feet into the faux-furry warmth.

As she dashed to the bathroom, the cool of the apartment filtered through to her sleep-fuddled brain. Why’s it so cold? It’s summer. Emma plonked herself onto the frigid toilet seat and braced her elbows on her knees. I’ll check the AC settings in a minute. While she peed, she gazed around the new space. A large mirror hung on the opposite wall. It took a few seconds for Emma to realise that she should be able to see her reflection. The mirror showed only an empty room.

Scared, she called out to her boyfriend, ‘Jake? Come here would you?’ Her voice sounded as pale as her body felt.

Jake pushed into the bathroom with a grin. ‘What? Found another spider?’

Emma pointed behind him. He turned and followed her gesture. Jake swore and spun around to face his girlfriend. ‘This some kind of joke?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m scared.’

Hurriedly, she finished her business and stood. ‘Come on.’

‘Where we going?’

‘Out. Anywhere. I don’t care. Just not here.’

Jake pulled on her hand and held her back. ‘Woah. Get dressed first.’

Emma swallowed her rising hysteria and dashed to the bedroom. Uncaring of the sweat and dust of yesterday’s activity, she pulled on the jeans and t-shirt that she’d discarded at the foot of the bed last night. Jake had dressed while she was in the bathroom. Hand in hand, they grabbed the apartment keys and left. Emma expected the building to keep them trapped, but it let them go.

On the street, Emma pulled Jake toward downtown. At the first store window she stopped and stared. The glass reflected an empty early-morning pavement. No Jake. No Emma. Horrified and confused, the pair raced to the next shop, and the next, and the one after that. All the windows failed to acknowledge their existence.

They reached a news stall. The headlines showed large type in bold …

Police Search Continues for Missing Couple

Emma said, ‘It got us, then.’

Jake squeezed her hand. ‘We should have known the rent on the old place was too cheap.’

The haunted house tugged them back—the pull started behind their navels and spread.

Trapped within the antique mirror in the hall, they gazed out and saw that the old place hadn’t given them a fresh start at all. A trick—an illusion. They’d never left. The months passed. The landlord cleared out their stuff. Helpless, Jake and Emma watched as a young family moved in.

Were they, too, fated to fade into the bones of the ancient timbers? Or could they thwart the evil?

© Harmony Kent 2021

CONTACT HARMONY HERE …

Website: https://harmonykent.co.uk and Story Empire (Co-authored)

Harmony’s Amazon Author Page: author.to/HarmonysBooks

Twitter: @harmony_kent

LinkedIn: Harmony

Goodreads: Author Page

***

I can be reached here …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

On Goodreads.

By Email.

Thanks so much for stopping by! I’d love to hear your thoughts. I’ll be posting further entries as they are received.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #37 Entry Part 1) by John Howell @HowellWave and Part 2) by Suzanne Burke @pursoot #IARTG #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction #WritingPrompts

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Parts 1) and 2) of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.  Week #37.
Today I’m featuring contributions from entry 1)By John Howell and Entry 2) My own contribution.
Last week I set the following Challenge:
Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!” Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing.  Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the image prompt.

door-1587023_1920

This one-line contribution by John Howell.

“The guy in 13 wants his walls painted fuchsia. Says he’s sick of brown.”

John Howell can be reached here …

Visit at Amazon.https://www.amazon.com/author/johnwhowell

 Twitter:

Author Blog Fiction Favorites:

door-1587023_1920

Here is my own contribution.

Friday 13th.  

Police Captain Henry Weisman lifted the crime scene tape and approached the officers guarding the stairwell and the doorway to Apartment 13. “Evenin’, Cliff. What have we got?”

“Same M.O as the last five deaths, Hank.”

“No deviations?”

“None that the CSI guys have come up with yet.”

“We have any ID on this one?”

The officer handed over the details and waited.

“Oh, God. Tell me this isn’t Senator Parker’s wife?”

“Wish I could. But yeah, it is. Thirty-seven-year-old Katherine Parker.”

“Has the Senator reported her missing?”

“Not as of a couple of hours ago when the 911 call came in.”

“Thanks, Cliff. I’ll take a look. The 911 caller?”

“Woman from the floor below called it in.”

“Good. I’ll talk to her shortly.”

***

Captain Weisman walked around the now familiar sign on the easel, pulled on his gloves and entered the apartment. He stood back away from the other investigators. He needed to absorb everything about his surroundings.

He inhaled deeply and the acidic stench of fear and urine permeated his consciousness. Katherine Parker’s body lay curved into the fetal position, she was fully clothed and looked to be sleeping. She had a crucifix clutched in her left hand, just as the other victims. And in a phenomenon equated to the onset of sudden stark terror her dark hair was now white.

The room had no windows. Henry was drawn to the closest wall and placed his gloved-hand palm down against its surface. He felt it again. That sudden jolt of adrenaline cursed through his body, he could feel a heartbeat pounding against his hand and moved back hurriedly. Before it overwhelmed him with its presence.

The room contained no furnishings. He knew from past experience that the only identifiable prints they’d find would belong to the victim.

He nodded his farewells to the team and gave the go ahead for the body to be removed. Now he needed to talk to the woman who’d called this one in.

***

Connie Barber opened the door to Apartment 12, checked the man’s identification and asked him to be seated.

“Thanks for speaking with me at such a late hour. I need to hear what prompted your call to 911 while it’s still fresh in your memory.”

“I understand. Guess this means that poor woman is dead. Go ahead, I’ll help in any way I can. But even I know how crazy what I have to say is gonna sound.”

“I don’t label things I don’t understand as crazy, ma’am. What prompted that call?”

“A couple of days back I heard someone upstairs using a buzzsaw, and there was thumping on the ceiling, and I figured they were finally converting that empty floor into apartments. The noise didn’t last long.”

“And then?”

“Yesterday I was down in the lobby and a workman carried a sign and one of those easel things in. He took the lift up to the floor above mine. I’m a scrabble junkie and I didn’t recognize the wording on the sign, so, my curiosity got the better of me and I keyed it in to my iPhone.”

The woman leaned forward and removed a piece of paper from the coffee table, she handed it over. “I don’t know how to pronounce it, but I Googled it. Triskaidekaphobia Treatment Clinic was what was on the sign, and Triskaidekaphobia means a total fear of the number 13.”

“I know the term. Did you get a good look at the workman?”

“I didn’t pay him that much attention, sorry. I was too intrigued by the sign.”

“Did you see the woman enter the building?”

“No, but dear Lord I heard her. She screamed and it was the most agonized sound I have ever heard. I don’t know how long the screaming went on for, but I rang 911 as soon as I could move across to the phone. It was almost as if I was frozen in place. I never want to feel that way again.”

Captain Weisman thanked her for her time.

***

He reached his car and called his boss.

“Taylor.”

“Chief. Forgive the late hour, sir. I’m afraid we have another one. This time the victim is very high profile. No way we’re gonna be able to keep the press away from this one.”

“Still not a damned thing to link back to that ‘clinic’?”.

“Nothing, sir. No trail whatsoever on the clinic. No social footprint. It’s as though they never existed.”

“I can’t tell that to the six families now mourning the loss of their loved ones. How long till the next Friday the 13th?”

“August 2021.”

“No more cold cases, Hank. Find that damned clinic!”

Henry ended the call.

He let himself into his house and poured a double shot of whiskey, then headed down to the basement.

He smiled and his eyes glowed red with pleasure as he began to  create his next Triskaidekaphobia Treatment Clinic sign.

~~~~~~~~~

/

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By Email.

 

 

 

 

 

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ NEW IMAGE PROMPT Week #37 Join in the fun! #IARTG #FlashFiction #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts @pursoot

Hello everyone and welcome to my weekly “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021″  WEEK #37.

Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing.  Maximum word count: 750 words.

Please put it (or a link to it) in a comment (ON THIS PAGE)  or email it to me at suzieb4burke@hotmail.com  by ,DEADLINE: 4pm EDT on Thursday, February 25th.  Subject: Fiction in a Flash Challenge. If you post it on your own blog or site, a link to this page would be much appreciated.

I’ll be sharing all entries received, and, my own contribution here AS I RECEIVE THEM.

Here is the image prompt for this week.

door-1587023_1920

Image by Arek Socha from Pixabay

I hope the image inspires you! Come and join in the fun.

Find me at …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

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By Email.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #36 Entry Part 7) by Kirsten Nairn @KirstenNairn #FlashFiction #WritingPrompt #WritingCommunity

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Part 7)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021” Week #36.
Today I’m featuring contributions from entry Part 7) By Kirsten Nairn
Last week I set the following Challenge:
Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!” Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing.  Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the image prompt and Kirsten’s contribution.

vasilios-muselimis-S7avQRg8ZLI-unsplash

You created quite a buzz the day you arrived in our tiny costal village in your brightly decorated VW camper van. News spread like wildfire about the ‘American laddie in his Scooby Doo van’. I was still trying to decide whether you were the epitome of cool or just plain weird, when you walked into the store.

Mr Cavendish looked up from the shelf he was stacking.

‘Oh, here he is. We’ve heard all about you, although you’re about fifty years too late for Woodstock son!’

At ease in your own skin, you just laughed.

‘I’m just here for a few days to catch some surf before heading North on the last leg of my journey, and in need of a few supplies for tonight.’

‘Surf! I don’t know about that son. We have the North Sea with some big waves, but it’s freezing, even at this time of year. Rosie here will help you find whatever you need though.’

I blushed as you turned your gaze towards me, a twinkle in those pale blue eyes.

‘I see your admiring her. What do you think?’ he nodded in the direction of the van parked outside.

‘Yes. It’s pretty, I guess.’

‘Pretty! Awe, come on. I’ve spent two years working on her. She’s got to be worth more than a ‘pretty’, surely?’

‘Ok. It’s cool.’

‘That’s better. Hey, how about I show you around her? What time do you finish?’

‘Oh…I…’

‘I won’t bite. Promise. I can just take you for a spin and drop you home within the hour. Come on, what do you say?’

‘Okay,’ I gulped, ‘I finish at five.’

‘Great. See you then. Oh, I’m Dexter by the way. Dex for short.’

Mr C scowled. ‘Rosie, is that wise? You’ve only just met him? And he’s American!’

I immediately regretted my decision and was jittery for the rest of the day. Nausea swept over me as the clock approached five. I prayed you wouldn’t show, but in the distance I heard the guttural sound of the diesel engine as it made its way up the hill, Bob Dylan blaring out of the speakers. The blast from the horn made me jump. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and headed out into the bright sunshine.

Up close you were the most exotic thing I’d ever seen, with your sun-bleached hair and tanned skin, such a contrast to my own grey pallor. And your teeth! Even after two, tortuous years of wearing braces, my own teeth were nowhere near as perfect.

‘I found a great spot to park for a few days, just down by the beach, I thought we could head down there if that’s all right?’

We saw each other every day after that. You picked me up at five and we headed to the beach where we collected shells and driftwood, toasted marshmallows, and listened to your sixties music. Slowly, the grey left my skin, replaced by a healthy glow, which wasn’t purely down to the sea air.

We kissed for the first time one evening as we lay under the stars. My heart raced as I imagined what was to come and I hoped my inexperience wouldn’t show as I pushed my body closer to yours, urging you on, but you seemed distracted. Distant.

‘Sorry Rosie, I can’t. It wouldn’t be right. I’ve been meaning to tell you. I need to leave tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow! But why?’

‘I’m already a week behind schedule. You always knew I’d have to go at some point.’

‘I know, but I thought…’ I scrambled to my feet. ‘Can you take me home please?’

‘Rosie…’

‘Now Dexter!’

Bob Dylan sang his painful, melodic poetry to us as we journeyed in silence.

‘Rosie, please.’

‘Bye Dex.’ I slammed the door behind me and stormed up the garden path, my eyes prickling with unshed tears.

Unable to sleep, I looked as dreadful as I felt by the time I arrived at work the following morning. Mr C instinctively knew better than to ask any questions. Every minute felt like an eternity as I clock watched, desperate for the day to be over. As five ‘o’ clock approached the pain became unbearable and I thought my heart would burst as I pulled on my coat and said my goodbyes.

As I stepped out into the evening sun, I heard the faint sounds of Bob Dylan, and the guttural roar of the diesel engine as it made its way up the hill.

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

Follow Kirsten Nairn on 

facebook https://www.facebook.com/Kirsten-Nairn-1886899944963399/

twitter https://twitter.com/KirstenNairn

my website https://kirstennairn.wordpress.com/

Goodreads; https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17042903.Kirsten_Nairn

Amazon: https://www.amazon A sorry Affair

***

Find me at …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

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‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #36 Entry Part 6) by Anita Dawes @jaydawes2 #IARTG #WritingPrompts #WritingComminity #FlashFiction

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Entry PART 6) for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.” Week #36.

Today I’m featuring a contribution from by Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie.

Last week I set the following Challenge:

Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!” Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing.  Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the image prompt and the contribution.

vasilios-muselimis-S7avQRg8ZLI-unsplash

Now here’s one wish I would love granted,
Turn back time,
let me join the flower power that passed me by
Let me ride the love train,
until the stars appear to lead the way
Ban the bomb. If only?
For a moment, love around the world held us in its grip,
Before going south, the way of so many good ideas
That little VW was never wasted.
I feel some of those sweet souls that drove in it.
They left a lot of love and smiles behind them.
We need their like to drive by once more,
To light the world with love and laughter
Shield us from the crazy world we live in,
If only for a moment…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Contact Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie Here .

Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie BLOG

The Author on AMAZON

on TWITTER

Thanks so much for stopping by. I’ll be posting more entries as I receive them.

Find me at …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

On Goodreads.

By Email.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #36 Entry Part 5) By Harmony Kent @harmony_kent #IARTG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to PART 5)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021. Week #36.  Today I’m featuring a contribution by Harmony Kent.

 I set the following Challenge:

Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!” Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing.  Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the image prompt and Harmony’s Contribution.

vasilios-muselimis-S7avQRg8ZLI-unsplash

Ghost Van

The van was worried and most definitely not at peace. Anything but hippie, it wanted to make war, not love.

Its last owner had come to fear him, and so would this one … cute college girl or not. He’d never been one to suffer fools gladly. And this amateur paint job—well, he had no words. Just rage. While he might have been a bit worn and rusty, he wasn’t destitute or desperate.

Anger simmering below the hood, he waited and bided. Once in a while his patience shattered on the rocks of fury, and he would stall the engine or flat-out refuse to start. Her frustration filled him with glee. After a few months, she took him out for a night ride. Now was his chance.

She picked up a guy—a loser if the van had ever seen one. A privileged jerk with no respect for the female form. After the drive-in movie, they went to Lover’s Lane … how many cliches did she intend on putting him through?

The spirit in the van intended to kill them both. With any luck, he’d get returned to the junk yard and left to rot in peace. Only once the carcass had rotted entirely would he find release. She navigated down the rutted lane and all the way to the hilltop. The view was tremendous. So was the sheer drop.

The jerk made his move. She fought him off. With a little help from the spirit in the van, she shoved jerk-boy out of the passenger door, and he tumbled to the grass. She slammed the door shut and reined in her sobs.

As soon as she found first gear, his resolve went up in smoke, along with the engine. He snatched control from her hands and roared toward the edge, and the boy. Over the screaming revs, the dull thud of the impact barely registered. The body flew feet into the air and then plummeted. The van hit the brakes. With the bumper hanging over the cliff, the van lurched to a stop. Behind the wheel, she sat with her wide eyes hidden behind her hands.

In that moment, he realised how much he’d come to love the girl. The van utilised the radio function to communicate. Let Me Take you Home Tonight by Boston crooned from the speakers …

You must understand this

I’ve watched you for so long

That I feel I’ve known you

I know it can’t be wrong

If we just get together

I want to make you see

As soon as the final refrain of Let Me Take You Home Tonight played, he switched off the sound. Then he drove her home.

It didn’t bother him too much that she left him parked on the drive for the next few months. He could wait. He was used to biding his time. Every once in a while, he gave her a nudge to remind her of his presence, and she’d have to open up his door and turn off the headlights or the blaring horn. She’d come around to his way of seeing things soon. Eventually, they always did.

© Harmony Kent 2021

CONTACT HARMONY HERE …

Website: https://harmonykent.co.uk and Story Empire (Co-authored)

Harmony’s Amazon Author Page: author.to/HarmonysBooks

Twitter: @harmony_kent

LinkedIn: Harmony

Goodreads: Author Page

***

I can be reached here …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

On Goodreads.

By Email.

Thanks so much for stopping by! I’d love to hear your thoughts. I’ll be posting further entries as they are received.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #36 Entry Part 4) By D.L.Finn @dlfinnauthor #IARTG #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction #WritingCommunity

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Part 4) of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.  Week #36.
Today I’m featuring a contribution By D L Finn.
Last week I set the following Challenge:
Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!” Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing.  Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the image prompt and D.L.Finns contribution.

vasilios-muselimis-S7avQRg8ZLI-unsplashDenise says … “I went with a Haibun Poem, which is a combination of a prose paragraph and a Haiku/Senryu working together”.

THE TRIP

I had carefully reapplied the blue, yellow, black, and brown paint to the 67 VW van. I added a touch of dirt onto my metal canvas to make it look like I’d been on the road for a couple of weeks. Each sixties phrase and symbol were brought to life after being buried in the junkyard for years. The webbed glass was replaced, and the wheels now supported the body. I secured the final headlight, more than satisfied with my effort. A shudder ran through my body as I proceeded through the final check. Each positive mark on my list got me closer to the goal. Finally, each box was filled. It was ready. I sank into my hemp covered seat and took a long, cleansing breath. This van would serve as my home now, and I’d included a small stove, bed, toilet, fridge, and sink. It had been tricky building it around the powerful engine, but not impossible. I’d found a way to run the van on Vodka, but any liquor that was 70 proof or higher would do in a pinch. After selling everything I owned for this moment, all I had left was my beloved black cat, Stormy, who would be my only companion and my roof garden. I smiled and started the engine.

The time machine packed
Hope still lingers in the past
Here, I’ll save our world.

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

D.L.Finn can be reached here …

Blog site:

AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE:

On TWITTER:

On FACEBOOK:

Thanks so much for stopping by! I look forward to reading your comments.

I can be reached here …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

On Goodreads.

By Email.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #36 Entry Part 3) by Ladyleemanila @Ladyleemanila #IARTG #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction #WritingCommunity

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Part 3)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021” Week #36.
Today I’m featuring contributions from entry Part 3) By Ladyleemanila
Last week I set the following Challenge:
Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!” Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing.  Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the image prompt and Ladyleemanila’s contribution.

vasilios-muselimis-S7avQRg8ZLI-unsplash

Painted words on the bus down the street

Justice to sway and call as people cheer

Peace and love not war,  we tell that is clear

Private and public chain and web to greet

Failed to settle but that’s not a defeat

Will be alright in a month or in a year

Painted words on the bus down the street

Justice to sway and call as people cheer

The bus drives on and on even in sleet

Spreading the message in their frontier

Lots of volunteers and they persevere

Children with costumes playing trick or treat

Painted words on the bus down the street*

(c) ladyleemanila 2021

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

You’ll find Ladylee here.

https://ladyleemanilablog.wordpress.com/

https://twitter.com/ladyleemanila

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

Find me at …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

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By Email.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #36 Entry Part 1) by John Howell @HowellWave and Part 2) by Suzanne Burke @pursoot #IARTG #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction #WritingPrompts

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Parts 1) and 2) of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.  Week #36
Today I’m featuring contributions from entry 1)By John Howell and Entry 2) My own contribution.
Last week I set the following Challenge:
Hello everyone and welcome to my new “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!” Each week I’ll be featuring an image and inviting you to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing.  Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the image prompt.

vasilios-muselimis-S7avQRg8ZLI-unsplash

This one-line contribution by John Howell.

“I’ll accept that you painted my van as part of your history project, son, but you’re still grounded.”

John Howell can be reached here …

Visit at Amazon.https://www.amazon.com/author/johnwhowell

 Twitter:

Author Blog Fiction Favorites:

Here is my own contribution.

vasilios-muselimis-S7avQRg8ZLI-unsplash

Déjà Vu

“So, Mark, what’s he like?”

“My grandpa is awesome. I think you’ll like him.”

“He doesn’t mind me joining you guys for the summer?”

“He’s the one who suggested I bring you. He’s all excited about a project he wants our help with, and he’s looking forward to meeting you.” Mark smiled as he pulled round out front, “He’s waiting for us!”

Linda wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it surely wasn’t the fit and tanned old guy with shoulder length white hair who was striding down the driveway with arms outstretched to greet them.

Mark was swept into a welcoming hug, and then the man’s attention turned to her. He extended a hand with a smile, “Welcome to our home, Linda. Please come on inside, my wife has prepared lunch for everyone.”

Linda flashed him a grateful smile, “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hanlon.”

“None of this ‘Mr. Hanlon’ stuff. Just call me Alan, okay?

“Okay … Alan.”

***

Delia Hanlon was as welcoming as her husband. The woman was tiny and frail looking until you caught the gleam of fire in her eyes and heard her unrestrained laughter. This house carried joy within it walls. Linda was happy to be included in it.

The men cleared the table after the meal. Delia headed into the bedroom for a nap, and the conversation turned to the project she and Mark would be helping with.

Alan’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he stood and beckoned them over to the glass doors.

“Come on outside. There’s something I want to show you.”

They reached the balcony and Mark stopped in his tracks, “Oh, my God! Grandpa, you found it! Is this the van you always talked about?”

“It surely is. I’ve been searching for so long I’d given up any hope of finding it again. Then I got a call from a junkyard in Cleveland. The guy who’d bought it had passed away and his son had put it up for sale. Long story short, it’s ours again! Isn’t she a beauty?”

“She’s our project? Is that the original paint job you and your friends did? Does the engine still work?” The questions tumbled out in his excitement.

“Yup that’s our project. The Germans really built this baby to last. That’s our original artwork. She needs some panel work, and the wiring, headlight, and fender need fixing, plus I want it made more comfortable inside for your grandmother.”

“When are you planning on leaving?”

“It’s not a long drive from here, but I want to take it slowly. We need to be there by 3.30 A.M, August 18th.

“That will have been my Dad’s fifty first birthday.”

“Yes, son. Your grandmother and I want to revisit that place. We want to honor both the memory of his birth and the event that changed our culture forever. We were so proud to be a small part of that.”

“I’m sorry about the loss of your father, Mark, and your son, Alan. What event are you referring to?”

“Woodstock Music Festival.” Both the Hanlon men answered together.

“Oh, my God, Alan! You and Delia were at Woodstock?”

“Yup, we sure were. Come on back inside, I’d like you to see something.”

***

The man walked across and removed a photograph album and a document from the bookcase.

He handed Linda the framed document, and she read it with awe, “Your son was born at the Woodstock music festival! “

“He was. Delia went into labor three weeks ahead of schedule, my son was born at 3.35 am on Monday August 18th, 1969. I recall that Crosby Stills Nash and Young were onstage at the time. A couple of midwives in the crowd helped us with the birth. we were so lucky that nothing went wrong. They finally got us to a hospital several hours later. You’re holding my son’s birth certificate. This is another way for us to honor his memory.”

Linda handed it back with reverence. Then she went through the photographs. Alan Hanlon pointed out several of he and his wife in the company of two other teenage couples. Linda caught the look of sadness on the man’s face.

“It’s the last time we were all together. Tommy and Keith died in Vietnam. Another reason our little pilgrimage is so important to us.”

“We’ll be sure to have the van ready, Grandpa.”

“Thank you, my boy.”

***

August 18th. 3.35 am. Woodstock: Ulster County, New York.

Delia and Alan Hanlon lit the candles and sent the red balloons skywards. Then they sat wrapped in each-other’s arms and watched the new sunrise dawn over Woodstock. They could hear the music of Crosby Stills Nash and Young coming from the van and they smiled through their tears. The music carried with it the sounds of a time and an event that forever depicted a generation.

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I have a large collection of music from the sixties and seventies, the track I’d like to share with you was written by Joni Mitchell and is performed here on the Deja Vu album by Crosby Stills Nash and Young.

Enjoy WOODSTOCK.