‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #42 Entry Part 7) by Jan Sikes @JanSikes3 #Iartg #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Entry Part 7) ) for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021” Week #42.

Today I’m featuring a contribution by Jan Sikes.

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.

TIME

They say time is an illusion

Only existing in our minds

That time to the Universe

Is the greatest joke to mankind

A porcelain jewel, delightfully ornate

Quietly ticking away, and now four-o-eight

Maybe it’s fate, mocking and cruel

For at four-o-seven I lost the numbers pool

My breathing ceased and heart stopped beating

And now I know time is nothing if not fleeting

As softly I float into the warm light

Below a body, once my birthright

That housed my spirit throughout the years

Is now only a shell, as loved ones shed tears

Time is an illusion, or so they say

Yet it marches forward into another day

Don’t take it for granted

Or put off your greatest delight

Before you know it, your spirit will take flight

Illusion or not, time never ceases

With or without you until it releases

***

Jan can be reached here …

All books are available at http://www.jansikes.com

https://twitter.com/JanSikes3

https://www.facebook.com/jansmith.sikes

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

Thank you so much for stopping by. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

I may be contacted here …

My author page on AMAZON.

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By Email.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #42 Entry Part 6) by Patricia Furstenburg @PatFurstenberg #IARTG #WritingPrompt #FlashFiction #WritingCommunity

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Entry PART 6) for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021” Week #42.

Today I’m featuring a contribution by Patricia Furstenburg.

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.

Patricia says …

The Time Merchant follows the story-line of Ferris Wheel (1), Two of a Kind (2), and A Ride in the Hot Air Balloon (3)

The Time Merchant (4)

Dangling above the abyss, at the end of a rope, the man felt thankful that it was not tied around his neck. He would have been dead by now. And angered, for he was tied up like a cocoon and could do nothing about it, except talk.

When the picture slid down the cord and slapped his face – why everything slapped him lately? – his first reaction was to protect his eyes so he twisted his head till it cracked. Due to the human skin’s elasticity, the neck should be twisted 360 degrees twice before it comes off completely, his mind offered. But that still won’t free me.

‘Remember her?’ words rolled over his head.

‘I can’t see the picture. It’s too close to my eyes. Can’t focus!’ He dangled himself, throwing his head further back, sweat building around his receding hairline, the cord sneaking tense overhead, creaking like the voice of death in his childhood’s fairy-tales… Yet the picture, secured by a carabiner, remained glued to his face.

Despite the freezing air a trickle of sweat rolled down his temple and itched. Scratch and die.

Not his nature. He angled his head the opposite way and used the photograph to scratch his itch. It envenomed it.

Lead negotiations with a clear mind. Fresh air all around, teased his brain.

The man dangling from the rope suspended from a hot air balloon by a woman wearing a caviar-beige Channel gown and perfume, a woman with whom he shared a passion for bird-watching, that man decided to take control over his situation.

He parted his lips and made a whooshing sound expelling the little air left in his lungs. Sealing his lips he inhaled slowly counting to four, held his breath, and exhaled taking double the time. Repeated twice will have to suffice loosen his anger, allowing him further decisions with a clear mind. Time was of the essence.

‘I want to remember her, but I must see her face. And I can’t, not tied up like this,’ he spoke up.

Only the wind whooshed around, slapping the picture against his cheek, slap-slap-slap. He made no attempt to protect himself. Was his voice strong enough to carry his words? His self-assurance?

The rope groaned overhead.

He lowered his tone to the pitch of a mellow cello, ‘I want to offer you answers. You deserve them. She deserves them. For the sake of the time we shared bird-watching -‘

‘Leave that out!’

He angled his approach.

‘How long ago have you lost her?’

‘Too long to count.’

‘Was she related to you?’

‘She was my baby sister and you took her away from me! Why her?’

So many reasons that didn’t make sense anymore…

‘Let’s work out a plan so I can see her face and offer you the answers you long for. You still want to know, don’t you?’

‘NO. I’ll give you her name.’

Too many names… complained his mind, but he kept that to himself.

‘Blanche-Rose,’ she said in an agonising whisper.

Had he heard it or his mind had groped for the rolling consonants? He remembered that name, and he remembered the sweet face framed by ringlets, and the earnest, hopeful look in her eyes when she had asked him for more time. Just a little bit more time.

Now it was his turn to ask for time.

‘It is a lengthy story. We need to sit for you to understand what happened,’ he called.

The sun was shining in his eyes by now and he began to feel like a pig on a spit. Above his head, the rope cried and cracked. How much longer will it support his weight? All that aged whiskey gone to waste…

‘There is nothing more for you to tell me! I was lost when she disappeared, confused and hopeless as if a part of myself had been torn… I blamed myself for not trying harder, I was angry at the world, I lost friends, I lost a life, my life, as I had lost hers… I prayed, and I vouched that I will not stop till I find the one, the one responsible for her disappearance. For her… death.

‘She is NOT dead! I don’t kill, I sell time. Time people need to fulfill that ONE dream. Time for THAT illicit love affair. Time to do with as THEY please. I am the Time Merchant. Now, do you know how to land this thing?’

‘What? NO, I don’t!’

Copyright © 2021 Patricia Furstenberg. All Rights Reserved

Patricia writes adult fiction books, children’s fiction and poetry.

Pat’s social media accounts: Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, LinkedIn
Follow Pat on Amazon, Goodreads, BookBub.

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

Thank you so much for stopping by. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

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‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #42 Entry Part 5) By Anita Dawes @jaydawes2 #IARTG #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Entry PART 5) for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.” Week #42.

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.

marka-merka-J_2tHp79pNc-unsplash

Time to turn the clock back, stealing time from us.

That’s what the ticking clock does, a slow-moving thief.

First you wonder where your youth disappeared to

Then middle age brings on the moody moments too often.

Old age, God bless us.

No one warned us how hard for some of us it could be.

Aches and pains in places you never heard of in your youth.

I can hear those lucky ones, fit in mind and body,

Saying life is good. Well, bully for you

Not all of us are as lucky…

© 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 …

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‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #42 Entry Part 4 by Daniel F L Endicott @3Dfle #IARTG #FlashFiction #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Entry PART 4) for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021” Week #42.

Today I’m featuring a contribution by Daniel F L Endicott.

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.

marka-merka-J_2tHp79pNc-unsplash

Silence followed, as even the clock stopped ticking. “I’m afraid it is,” the doctor told those gathered. Silence remained just a moment longer, just until the mother’s sob broke free from the binds that had strained to keep it in her chest. It was the first of many that would fill the room as the finality was shared.

“What does that mean,” little Tabbitina asked. She pulled her mother’s skirt, but the woman was nowhere close to conversation. She could only look down at her youngest, through tear-filled eyes, and shake her head. The child still held confusion, incapable of understanding, so she asked the others in the room, “What does that mean?”

An aunt she’d never met before, responded, “She’s gone.”

There was a wail from the child’s mother.

But the youngest girl did not believe what they were telling her. She could not accept what they had said. Tabbitina crossed the room to stand beside her sleeping sister. She lifted her sister’s hand – still warm, still pliant – and raised it to her lips, and kissed her sister’s fingers: Five fingers, and they weren’t ticking – just what she expected.

Those watching viewed it as a tender moment. Those gathered in the room and even the doctor felt a pinch against their hearts, as they watched the young girl tenderly bid farewell to her older sister. What they weren’t expecting, is that when Tabbitina raised her eyes to meet their own – she started laughing.

She was shushed, of course, scolded – her name was harshly called. But the young girl only laughed more. Her Uncle Duncan finally took her from the room.

He led her downstairs and shared stern words, of the like, “That’s your sister. Show some,” and there he had to slightly pause to check himself, but thus, emphasized more thoroughly, “Respect.”

He was answered with, “That’s stupid.” And he didn’t bother listening to what more of that would follow, only told her, “Keep yourself right there, and don’t come back upstairs.”

Tabbitina did go back up the stairs, but she didn’t go directly to her sister’s room. She tip-toed down the hallway, towards its conclusion where there was a small, but tall display table, which had a mirror that extended from the back. That was not of interest, but what was on it was: A silent clock, and like her sister, no longer moving.

The young girl ran her fingers along the gold-leaf trim, and like her sister’s fingers, kissed five roses that were on the face of it, as she lifted it, and she began to turn the key that wasn’t turned just prior to her parents screams. She pulled her dress up to polish off the fingerprints and mars of lips, after replacing it upon the table-top, and then she flicked the pendulum with her middle finger, to set it back in motion.

That finger remained extended. That finger stayed out as she imagined raising it to her uncle’s face, the doctor’s words – mostly to her sister. It stayed that way until she heard the gasps, until yelps escaped, and tears were shed again – brought on by emotions that were different than before. Framed in her sister’s doorway, that finger joined the others to form a fist, used to draw attention with a knock against the jamb. A sharp rap to draw a pair of eyes to Tabbitina.

It was not intended for those that heard and turned back toward her, most of whom presumed she needed to come in further to see the miracle that happened. It was not intended for her mother who was on her knees, grasping the hands of her eldest daughter. It was for the eldest daughter.

Tabbitina looked into the room with a look that formed by competition between hostility and irritation. She made sure her sister had her eyes upon her as she asked her with an anger, “Do you know what time it is?”

Her sister answered, only, “I forgot.”

######

Daniel may be reached here …

Twitter: @3Dfle

BLOG:  https://3dfle.com/

Thank you so much for stopping by. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

I may be contacted here …

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‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #42 Entry Part 3) by D L Finn @dlfinnauthor #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 #42.

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.

marka-merka-J_2tHp79pNc-unsplash

Denise says … “I did another 99-word story for the picture.”

WHEN THE CLOCK STOPPED

The delicate porcelain clock trimmed in gold had stopped running at exactly 4:08 a.m.—when I took my first breath.

“You were my miracle.” Mother would say, dusting the clock no one was allowed to touch.

Now it sits on my mantel. My grandson tried to fix it, but the motor, and the clock’s arms, wouldn’t budge.

Today I woke up feeling unwell. I picked up the phone to call my doctor when I heard a gentle ticking. The clock was running.

Then, everything disappeared into a golden glow, and I found myself gathered in my mother’s arms again.

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

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.

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‘Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #42 Entry Part 1) by John Howell @HowellWave and Part 2) by Suzanne Burke @pursoot #IARTG #WritingPrompt #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Parts 1) and 2) of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.  Week #42.

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.

marka-merka-J_2tHp79pNc-unsplash

This one-line contribution by John Howell.

“I understand you are confused but you need to take me to your leader anyway.”

 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.

marka-merka-J_2tHp79pNc-unsplash

Melinda was jolted awake by someone pounding on the front door. “What the …!” She stumbled out of bed, grabbed her robe from the floor and hurried out to the hallway. The movement detectors had lit the front porch and Melinda stepped back in surprise as she recognized the man standing outside. She opened the door on the latch, “This had better be good, Tony! What the hell do you want?” She glanced at the ornate clock on the mantle, “You do realize it’s just after 4.00 am on Sunday morning!”

“Melinda, please let me in! I need your help!”

“Keep your voice down! You’ll wake the neighbors. I have nothing here for you Tony. I’ve moved on with my life in the past four years. Go home to your new wife!”

“Please, Melinda! I’m begging you! If you ever did love me, you’ll let me in to talk to you.”

Melinda swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. She looked at the desperation on his face. She touched the clock, and checked the time again, before she opened the door. “I’ll give you exactly five minutes.  Why are you here?”

“I need you to tell anyone who asks that I’ve been here with you since around eight o’clock last night.”

“I won’t lie for you, Tony.”

“Jesus! You don’t understand! You have to do this!”

“I don’t have to do anything. The days when I felt like I should because I was your wife are long gone. You’ve obviously been busted doing something illegal. I’m not going to be your alibi!”

“You don’t get it! There’s been an … an accident. They’ll arrest me for sure if I don’t have an alibi.”

“Accident? Did you leave the scene of an accident? Was someone hurt? Were you driving?”

“It wasn’t a car accident. It happened in my apartment.”

“You’ve already said enough. I want no part of whatever this is.”

“She’s dead! She hit her head on the edge of the bookcase! There’s blood everywhere!”

Melinda gasped, “Who’s dead? Did you call 911?”

“My wife! It’s my wife. We had an argument and, well … you know how I am. She aggravated me and wouldn’t shut her stupid mouth when I told her to. So, I hit her. I didn’t hit her all that hard.” He nodded to himself as if to confirm that that made hitting her justifiable.

“She aggravated you? You bastard! I’ve still got the scars to remind me of just how big a bully you are. There’s not one thing that ever justifies a man hitting a woman! Did you call 911?”

“Of course I didn’t call 911. I ran out of there and drove around for a while, then I came here.”

“You didn’t bother to confirm that there was nothing that could be done to help her?” Melinda already knew the answer to that. She stood quietly for a long moment. “You know something, I believe Karma intended you to turn to me for help.”

He looked relieved, “Can we sit down and talk about it now?”

“Oh, I think you may come to regret what you’ve already said.” Melinda walked across to the light switch and illuminated the living room.

Tony looked around and his face began to pale as he took in the empty bottles on the coffee tables and every available surface, there were still platters of half-eaten party fodder scattered throughout the room. “You had a party here last night!”

Melinda looked at his face, “Oh, hell yes! It was quite a big celebration.”

“Is it your birthday?”

“No. It was my engagement party. I think the police would find it very odd if you tried to tell them that you were here, they’ll never believe you!”

“You could tell them that we are still friends and I was here to add my congratulations.”

Melinda shook her head.“Nope, that wouldn’t work.”

“Yes, it would. You just need to be convincing.”

Melinda heard the bedroom door open behind them. She watched on with pleasure as her fiancé Karl entered the room. He pulled her into a hug and looked at her ex-husband with distaste. “I’m Karl Hammond.”

“No, big deal. I’ll just go now. I was never here.”

“No, you won’t be leaving. Let me finish introducing myself. “I’m Senior Homicide Detective, Karl Hammond. I updated the security here a year ago. Your exact time of arrival is clearly noted on the CCTV footage. Your entire conversation with Melinda was recorded and filmed from when Melinda activated the device in the alarm clock. I’ve already dispatched the rapid response team to the apartment location.”

Melinda savored the look of desperation on Tony’s face as she whispered. “Are you aggravated now, Tony?”

#####

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‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #42. New Image Prompt. Join in the fun! #IARTG #FlashFiction #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity

Hello everyone and welcome to my weekly “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021″  WEEK #42.

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 POST)  or email it to me at suzieb4burke@hotmail.com  by ,DEADLINE: 4pm EDT on Thursday, APRIL 1st.  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.

marka-merka-J_2tHp79pNc-unsplash

Photo by Marka Merka on Unsplash

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

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‘Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #41 Entry Part 8) by Roberta Eaton Cheadle @RobertaEaton17 #IARTG #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to PART 8)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021. ” Week #41. Today I’m featuring a contribution from Roberta Eaton Cheadle
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 Roberta’s Contribution.

hot-air-balloon-5652099_1920

Ungrounded

My life feels ghostlike

Insubstantial and unreal

No human contact

No office; only on-line

Nothing left to keep me here

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

Contact Roberta Here …

Roberta Writes Blog.

TWITTER

AMAZON.COM

***

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

I can be reached here …

My author page on AMAZON.

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‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #41 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 #41.

Today I’m featuring contribution 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.

hot-air-balloon-5652099_1920

Fly High

It wasn’t just the cold morning air which made Findlay shiver as he struggled out of the car at 5am.

‘Lydia, you have to be joking. There is NO WAY I’m going up in that.’

As if on cue, a ferocious whoosh split the morning stillness as the burner filled the hot air balloon, followed by ‘oohs and aggghhs’ of the passengers.

‘It’s my wedding present to you! And, it’s top of my bucket list. It’s going to be so amazing Finn. We’ll see the sun rise.’ Her hazel eyes shone bright with excitement.

‘A toaster would have done! Lydia, I’m scared of heights.’ Beads of sweat trickled down his back.

‘Since when?’

‘Since now. I know this whole bucket list thing is important to you, but it’s your list, not mine. Can’t you take someone else?’

‘No. It’s on my list to do it with you. Come on Finn, you only get one shot at life….’ She stopped mid-sentence.

Ashamed of the resentment he felt, he took a deep breath. Lydia had become obsessed with this recently, and whilst it wasn’t his thing, it was important to her, more than ever now, but he felt like he was on a one-way train, hurtling with alarming speed towards its final destination, stopping only briefly to tick off another item on list.

A woman clutching a clipboard bounded over towards them.

‘You must be Findlay and Lydia? I’m Grace, and I’ll be accompanying you this morning. You guys are just going to love this,’ she beamed.

‘What happens if canvas goes on fire?’ Findlay blurted out.

‘Then we drop like a stone, but that’s never happened on my watch. Come on, let’s get you both on and we’ll go through the safety procedures, including what happens if the basket breaks free.’

Findlay tried to catch Lydia’s eye, but she was deliberately avoiding him, her focus on Grace. He followed slowly behind, like a dead man walking, delaying the inevitable. There were worse ways to die, he supposed, the irony of which wasn’t lost on him.

Lydia noticed his hands shaking as he held the safety card. She squeezed them re-assuringly, and before he could change his mind, they were off, floating upwards, through the dark skies. His knuckles turned white as he clutched the side of the basket and he kept his eyes firmly shut, but Lydia gave him a running commentary anyway.

At precisely 6.03am she whispered, ‘Findlay. Open your eyes,’ just in time for him to see the sun rise. It was undeniably beautiful but would have looked as good from the ground below.

Lydia put her head on his shoulder and pointed her phone towards them for the inevitable selfie, which he knew would be added to her making memories folder. He gave his best smile. He owed her this much.

………………………………

These four weeks of married life were the happiest he’d ever known, but now it was time to make the call he’d dreaded.

‘Can you meet me at the hospice. I think it’s time.’

He heard a sob at the other end of the line. ‘Why the hospice? What’s going on?’

‘I’m sorry Lydia but it’s where I want to be. I also want to make happy memories and want you to be my wife, not my carer. No arguing. Okay?’

………………………………

Exhausted, the last of the mourners gone, Lydia sank down into the sofa, Finn’s indent still visible on his side. Her stomach lurched and a hot, fat tear rolled down her cheek as she opened the card. It was a picture of a hot air balloon on the front. That was so Finn.

My Beautiful Lydia, you said ‘we only get one shot at life’, but you’re wrong. We only get one life, but we get lots of shots, so please, please, take another shot. I know you will always love me, but please love someone else as well.

I never had a bucket list Lyds. I never needed one, because you were it. Now pour yourself a glass of wine and look at the memories we made.

Love you always,

Fly High,

Finn xx

She picked up the photographs inside.

Their first kiss, aged 4. She was kissing him; he was screwing up his face.

On the swings at the park, aged 7.

Awkward teenagers. Lydia dancing with friends. Findlay looking on, mesmerised.

A selfie taken the morning after their first night together.

A selfie taken in the hot air balloon.

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

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

***

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‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #41 Entry Part 5) By Gwen Plano @gmplano #IARTG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompt #FlashFiction

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to PART 5)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.”  Week #41.

Today I’m featuring a contribution by  Gwen Plano.

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’s the image prompt and the contribution by Gwen Plano.

Picture

Gwen Plano can be reached here …

Thank you so much for stopping by. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

I may be contacted here …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

On Goodreads.

By Email