‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge’ Week #22 Entry 3) by Karen Ingalls @KIngallsAuthor #IARTG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Part 3)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge” Week #22.
Today I’m featuring a contribution from Entry 3) By Karen Ingalls
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 Karen’s Tanka.

marc-schaefer-J4bugcA2Vwg-unsplash

THE BINDER IS OLD
JUST AS I AM ALSO OLD
WE ARE BOTH WORN OUT
TATTERED, TIRED YET EMBRACED
BY STRAPS OR YOUR LOVING ARMS.
 
OUR SKINS ARE WRINKLED
TORN, FRAGILE, SCARRED, YET HOLDING
US TOGETHER WHILE
HIDING SECRETS, LIES, AND DREAMS
NEVER REVEALED TO OTHERS.
 
NOW THAT I HAVE PASSED,
ONLY GOD’S JUDGEMENT MATTERS
BUT I PRAY YOU WILL
LOVE ME WITHOUT CONDITION
ACCEPTING MY HUMANNESS.
 
READ THE WORN PAGES
KNOWING THEY COME FROM MY HEART
WHILE BARING MY SOUL
     SO YOU WILL KNOW WHO I WAS
STILL LOVING, ACCEPTING ME.
 
WHEN YOU CREMATE ME,
DO THE SAME TO THE BINDER
PUTTING OUR ASHES
 IN THE GROUND OF THE OAK TREE
TOGETHER, FOREVER MORE.
~~~~~

Karen may be contacted here …

Karen Ingalls Blog.

On Twitter:

Karen Ingalls Author Page Amazon

On Facebook

***

I can be reached here …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

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By Email.

Thanks so much for stopping by! I’ll be featuring further contributions as I receive them.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge’ Week #21 Entry Part 7) By Mae Clair @MaeClair1 #IARTG #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction #WritingPrompts

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to PART 7)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge” Week #21

Today I’m featuring the contribution by Mae Clair.

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 Mae Clair’s Contribution.

Old abandoned, boarded up two-story home in autumn woods at sunset

I’ve Got a Plan

“You really bought this?”  Mason shook his head as he surveyed the derelict property. In its day, the house had probably been grand. Now, it was nothing more than a weathered, ivy-encrusted shell. Gilded by the last rays of the setting sun, the old two-story appeared part of the barren woodland surrounding it. “I hope you can get your money back.”

“It was dirt cheap.” Jeremy’s face glowed with pride. “Besides…I’ve got a plan.”

There was always a plan with Jeremy—another fanciful idea or dragon tail. It had been that way since he was a kid. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the plan?”

“A Halloween Haunt. Picture it.” Jeremy spread his hands, framing the house. “It won’t take a lot of money. Just enough to shore things up and make certain they’re sound. We add a few fog machines, cheap vintage furniture, and I’m telling you, Dad, it can’t fail.”

“You’ll need actors.”

“I’ve got that covered. We add to the existing atmosphere and play up grim and creepy.”

Business would be limited to a few months in the fall, but that wasn’t entirely problematic. Plus, it would be good experience if the kid pulled it off. At twenty-eight, it was time he managed something. 

“Maybe.” Mason wasn’t ready to commit. “Let’s see inside.”

~ooOOoo~

Isabelle rolled her eyes at the agonized creak of the front door. It had started screeching like that somewhere during the last century. “Dearest, we have company.”

Liam flipped a page in his book. “Two men. I saw them standing out front.”

“Don’t you think you should go downstairs and see what they’re about?” She lowered her embroidery hoop to her lap, the soft folds of her saffron gown, a color match for the flames in the hearth. As cozy as their sitting room was, she understood why Liam was reluctant to leave but one of them had to address the situation. “You’ve already read Moby Dick numerous times.”

“But I never tire of it. We could send Chloe.”

“That strumpet?” Isabelle clucked her tongue. “I think not. I don’t even know why the fool girl insists on lingering.”

“She did love me.” Liam set his book aside. “Probably still does.”

He was a distinguished man with a smattering of gray in his hair, his eyes the dark blue of midnight skies. Isabelle was sometimes overcome by her devotion to him. She couldn’t term the affection love—not any longer—but her emotion ran strong. She’d been naïve when they’d wed, but after a decade discerned his wandering eye. Especially after Chloe came to live with them, lending a hand with domestic chores.

“Her love is irrelevant. I do not share.”

“As you proved.”

Isabelle flashed an innocent smile. “You always enjoyed my tea in the past.”

“Minus the poison.”

“At least I followed you to the grave by drinking it myself.”

“Not quite the grave.” He motioned to the room at large.

“Which brings us back to the problem downstairs.”

“Very well.” Liam heaved a breath. “I’ll scare them off like the others.”

~ooOOoo~

“It has potential.” After exploring the main level, Mason was almost ready to commit. It would take an outlay of cash, but nothing he couldn’t raise. Maybe this time Jeremy would finally turn one of his pipedreams into gold. “We should look upstairs.”

He started toward the staircase, halting abruptly when he spied a figure at the top. “What the—” 

The man’s face appeared chiseled from granite. Dressed in outdated clothing, he looked much like a Dicken’s character, wearing a short waistcoat, silken cravat, and high-topped boots. 

He speared a finger in their direction. “Trespassers! You do not belong here!” The walls shook at the boom of his voice. The floor heaved and cracked. Behind him, lightning exploded from the ceiling, filling the air with ozone. “Leave while you can.”

“Holy shit!” Mason stumbled backward, colliding with his son.

Jeremy caught him by the shoulders. “Don’t mind him, Dad. That’s just Mr. O’Conner.” He hustled past, climbing the steps two at a time. “Hiya, Mr. O’Conner.” He flipped a wave to the stunned apparition. “Chloe told me all about you and your wife. You’re going to fit right in. Aren’t they, Dad?” Jeremy glanced over his shoulder. “Dad?”

Mason stood rooted to the landing, knees quavering, heart thundering. “J-J-Jeremey…” He couldn’t seem to find his voice. “Th-that’s a ghost.”

“Yeah, I know.” The idiot kid grinned ear-to-ear. “Didn’t I tell you we wouldn’t need actors?”

~~~~~

Mae Clair can be reached here …

Twitter:

Amazon Author Page:

Mystery, Suspense & Urban Legends | BookBub | Newsletter Sign-Up

Website & Blog | Goodreads

~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for stopping by. I’ll be featuring other posts as they are received.

I may be contacted here …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

On Goodreads.

By Email.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge’ Week #21 NEW Image Prompt! Join in the fun! #IARTG #WritingCommunity #flashfiction #writingprompts @pursoot

Hello everyone and welcome to my weekly “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!”  WEEK #21.  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 or email it to me at My email address. by DEADLINE: 4pm EDT on Thursday, October 22nd, 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.  Thanks to everyone for the amazing support.

Here is the week #21 Image Prompt.

House, Mystical, Villa, Secret, Fantasy

Image by Peter H 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’ Week #19 Entry Part 5) by Mae Clair @MaeClair1 #IARTG #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to PART 5)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge” Week #19.

Today I’m featuring the contribution by Mae Clair.

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.

Shattered Dreams

“It’s iconic, you know that, right?” Terrence pointed to the photo behind his desk.

“You have to ask?” Marco smirked, rolling a toothpick in his mouth. “Who doesn’t know the Hollywood sign?”

The town inspired dreams, fantasies and stardom. Sometimes, it inspired hate.

Terrence studied his fingernails. “How much?”

“Depends.” The toothpick tasted woody. Marco flicked it aside. “Do you want it flattened or—”

“Obliterated.” Terrence circled his desk. Stood gazing at the framed photo on the wall, hands clasped behind his back. “I was thirteen when this was taken. Family vacation. That’s me and Russ in front of the sign. He was ten… grew stars in his head that same night. Said he was going to be a big name when he was older.”

“Sorry it didn’t work out.” An outright lie. Marco didn’t give a rat’s ass, but he’d learned it helped to project a measure of sympathy until the payout was in hand.

“I’ve dumped every dollar I have into supporting my brother. I’m out of cash, and patience. The idiot thinks he has a shot at the lead in the Merchant Mercury franchise.”

Marco snorted. This was too rich to pass up. “Your brother’s claim to fame is a shaving cream commercial. Merchant Mercury is supposed to be the next Star Wars.”

“You see what I’m up against.” Terrance grimaced. “I want you to take down that damn sign, so he realizes the whole thing is a pipe dream. He needs to man up, start earning a living. Forget this ‘acting is my destiny’ crap. The guy’s a loser. It’s time he faced the facts.”

“Consider it done.” Marco had already stockpiled the explosives. “You know where to send the money.”

++++

Terrence scrubbed his face, suppressing a yawn. He folded into the couch, coffee in hand, then snatched the TV remote. Every channel had the same news—someone had blown up the Hollywood sign sometime after 3:00 AM. Videos and images showed police swarming the scene. What remained of the iconic sign was strewn in chunks and splinters over the hillside. Helicopters pinwheeled overhead and reporters angled for face time. Talking heads popped up in a mosaic of windows on his screen, one after another.

“Hell, yes!” He pumped a fist in the air. Marco had blasted that wretched sign into fragments and—if Terrance had calculated properly—Russ’s dreams right along with it. When his phone rang, he juddered to his feet, snatching it from the end table. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Terrance, how are you, big brother?” Strange that Russ sounded energized. He should be crestfallen after seeing his altar blown to smithereens.

“I, um…” Terrence knew he should feign horror or sorrow. Maybe outrage. Outrage was always good.

“I’m so freaking stoked I don’t even know what day it is.” Russ didn’t give him the time to decide.

“Where are you?”

“My pathetic shoebox of an apartment, but not for long.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I hit the big time.”

Terrence muted the TV remote. “You’re not making sense.”

“Probably because I kicked a bottle of champagne in under fifteen minutes.”

A queer sense of foreboding spread in Terence’s gut. “You’re celebrating?”

“Sure am. I landed the lead in Merchant Mercury.” Russ’s voice climbed an octave. “Just got the call. Can you shittin’ believe it? The studio head is already saying I’m going to be the next Harrison Ford. First thing tomorrow, I’m hiking to the Hollywood sign to have my picture taken.”

Terrence’s knees buckled. He sank onto the couch, eyes glued to the emergency personnel on the screen. What the hell had he done?

“I’d love it if you could be with me big brother. You always believed in me. Never gave up on my dreams.”

Terrance dropped the phone, cradled his face in his hands. He’d spent every dime he had paying Marco’s price, figuring Russ would crawl home when broken. They’d start over, go into business together. But all of that had changed. His bank account read zero and his younger brother was destined for stardom. Who was the loser now?

He clawed the phone to his ear. “Russ…” His voice broke. “I, uh… I hate to ask, but I’m out of cash.”

“Seriously? How?”

“I did something stupid.” He swallowed bitter tears. “I shattered my dream.”

~~~~~~~~

Mae Clair can be reached here …

Twitter:

Amazon Author Page:

Mystery, Suspense & Urban Legends | BookBub | Newsletter Sign-Up

Website & Blog | Goodreads

~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for stopping by. I’ll be featuring other posts as they are received.

I may be contacted here …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

On Goodreads.

By Email.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge’ Week #19 Entry Part 3) by Gwen Plano @gmplano #IARTG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to PART 3)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge” Week #19.

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.

As I studied this image, I had so many ideas racing through my mind that I didn’t know which one to pursue. Finally, I chose the simple one below and situated Burke’s image within a starry night.

Picture
TAKE TWO
“This is breathtaking, George. I’m so glad you brought me up here.”

“Yeah, Hollywood at night is pretty impressive.”

Sandy stretched out her hand to his. “The street lights remind me of Christmas.”

“Hmm, those red ones? They’re police cars.”

“I know but sitting here, behind the iconic Hollywood sign, police car or not, it’s magical.”

George turns towards Sandy. “You know we’re not alone, right?”

“Sure! I can see the cars on either side of us.”

“It’s a favorite spot for lovers—above the City, starry night…”

Sandy nods. “I keep thinking about the back seat.”

“Really? You’d like to go to the back seat? Kisses would be easier for sure.”

“And maybe other things easier too. But…”

“But what? Sandy?”

“I dunno know. I just have this odd feeling that someone’s watching us.”

“I think you worry too much. C’mon, let’s get in the back.”

“G e o r g e! What’s that??”

“What the… ! Quick, let’s get out of here.” 

And that’s a cut. We’ll move to scene 33 in fifteen. Good job, team.

~~~~~

Gwen Plano can be reached here …

Thank you so much for stopping by. I look forward to hearing your thoughts. I’ll be posting further entries as I receive them.

I may be contacted here …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

On Goodreads.

By Email.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge’ Week #19 Entry Part 1) John Howell @HowellWave and Suzanne Burke @pursoot #IARTG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to Part 1)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge” Week #19.
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.

John Howell’s One Line Contribution.

“What do you suppose they call those hills over there?”

John Howell can be reached here …

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

 Twitter:

Author Blog Fiction Favorites:

My own Contribution

Intuition.

Hollywood: August 7th, 1969.

Cindy sipped on her coffee and nodded to her housemate Karen as she came out from her bedroom, “Mornin’, sleepyhead. Aren’t you working today?”

“No. I’m planning on catching up with those great people I told you about. We’re just gonna hang out for a few hours. There’s a party later tonight, I really want you to meet them. Please, please say you’ll come?”

“You know I’m not good at parties.”

“So, you’d rather nurse those loonies on the Psyche ward?

“Don’t call them that. They’re as sick as anyone else in the hospital. You just can’t see the damage up front.”

“Okay, okay. But this is really important to me. You told me I needed to put myself out there if I wanted to make new friends in this town. I’ve done that, now they all wanna meet you ‘cause I talk about you all the time. I know they’ll like you. I need you to like them too.”

Cindy’s resolve caved in as she recognized the need for approval on her friend’s sweet pixie face. She nodded her head.  “Alright. But just tonight. Where and what time?”

***

Cindy climbed from the V.W and adjusted her miniskirt. She checked the address she’d written down. The noise coming from the house up ahead told her she was in the right location.

I don’t even know whose party this is, just some musician. Not that it matters much. If you’re a single female in Hollywood, they won’t turn you away.

She walked on through the crowded house searching for Karen. She felt the pulsing adrenaline in the room, most of the people dancing along to the pounding music were high, their movements jerky and their heads on a permanent swivel. She’s seen enough cases of LSD induced psychosis to recognize exactly what she was seeing. Her need to find Karen ramped up a few notches.

Cindy tried out by the pool and found her sitting in a small group on the ground. A man seated on a bench in front of them seemed to be holding their undivided attention, although Cindy couldn’t hear what he was saying. She watched on for a moment before reaching down and tapping Karen on her bare shoulder. The girl spun around, then smiled as she recognized Cindy. She scrambled to her feet. “You came! Let me introduce you to the others! “

She pointed to a female seated at the edge of the small semi-circle, “This is Susan, next to her is Linda, then Patricia.” Karen’s voice was high pitched and excited.

Cindy smiled at each of them in turn and watched in fascination as they all looked to the man seated on the bench as if silently asking his permission for something. She caught the almost imperceptible nod he gave them, and they all turned back to her and smiled as they offered their belated hellos.

The man stood then and moved across to where she and Karen were standing. Cindy’s first impression was of how short he was. He extended his hand, “And I’m Charles, Charles Manson. My friends call me Charlie. I hope  you’ll soon be one of them.”

Cindy met his eyes for a moment and she reluctantly reached for his outstretched hand. “Charles.”

She gave an involuntary shiver as he touched her. The hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end. She’s seen that wild eyed look before. But those folks were housed in the maximum-security wing of the Psyche ward.

She felt the bile rise in her throat, then chided herself. He was probably just high on something.

“We were just talking about our upcoming album.”

“Oh, you’re a musician? “

“Oh, I don’t like labels. I wear many hats.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Cindy turned back to her friend, “I’m feeling sick, Karen. Something I’ve eaten, I think. I need to leave. But, I don’t think I should drive, hon. Can you please drive me home?”

Her friend looked torn, she looked towards Charles and waited, “I’ll call you tomorrow, Karen, and give you directions out to the ranch. You come as well, Cindy. You can meet the rest of our little family.”

***

Karen didn’t stop prattling on about them all for the trip back downtown. Cindy had managed to get her out of there, but that was a temporary solution. Something about this Charles Manson guy set her teeth on edge.

***

August 9th, 1969:

The news headlines were tragic. Actress Sharon Tate and four of her house guests had been brutally murdered overnight.

Cindy hurried into Karen’s bedroom and sucked in a grateful lungful of air to find her friend still sleeping.

Karen didn’t get that expected call from Charles Manson. She would remain forever grateful for her friends intuition.

~~~~

Thanks so much for joining me here today. I look forward to seeing your comments. I will as always featuring each new contribution as I receive them.

I may be reached here …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

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By Email.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge’ Week #19 NEW Image Prompt! Join in the fun! @pursoot #IARTG #ASMSG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompt

Hello everyone and welcome to my weekly “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!”  WEEK #19.  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 or email it to me at My email address. by DEADLINE: 4pm EDT on Thursday, October 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.

UPDATE: The response to the prompts has been just wonderful. As a result, I’ll be sharing all entries received, and, my own contribution here AS I RECEIVE THEM. Rather than posting all of them only over a few days.  Thanks to everyone for the amazing support.

Here is the week #19 Image Prompt.

Image by David Mark from Pixabay

I hope the image inspires you to enter. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

I may be reached here …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

On Goodreads.

By Email.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge’ Week #18 Entry Part 2) by Gwen Plano @gmplano #IARTG #ASMSG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to PART 2)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge” Week #18.

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 Haiku contributed by Gwen Plano.

music-sheet-5117328_1920

THOUGHTS FROM A PARK BENCH
We’ve yet to meet, my love, but each day I walk to the park at 3:00 to hear you sing. From your fifth floor perch, can you see me – the one who sits alone and weeps?

I was just a babe when my parents moved to New York City. Though they knew English, they only spoke their native Russian to me. Your afternoon serenade of A Million Scarlet Roses reaches deep within my soul – to family.

Can you spare just one, just one of your million? A rose would soften the loss I know and tell me of your sweetness.   
  

(My Haiku follows the photo prompt.)
Picture
 
alone I listen
until roses fill my soul
and bring you to me

Gwen Plano can be reached here …

Reflections on Life … Blog.

Author Page: Gwen Plano on Amazon

On Twitter.

Gwen Plano on Facebook.

Thank you so much for stopping by. I look forward to hearing your thoughts. I’ll be posting further entries as I receive them.

I may be contacted here …

My author page on AMAZON.

On Twitter.

On Facebook

On Goodreads.

By Email.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge’ Week #17 Part 3) A #Haibun by D.L.Finn @dlfinnauthor #iartg #asmsg #writingCommunity #writingprompts

Hello everyone and a warm welcome to PART 3)  of the entries for my weekly: “Fiction in A Flash Challenge” Week #17.

Today I’m featuring a contribution from 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.

This Haibun Contributed By D.L.Finn

message-in-a-bottle-3437294_1920

THE MESSAGE

The fog penetrated my skin, adding heaviness to my existence. The furious waves crashing against the shore fueled my anger. The salty air was bitter in my lungs, making each breath a battle. Alone, I pushed through the frigid sands, going nowhere, until I couldn’t take another step. I sat down on a flat rock and waited for the pain to end. This went on ceaselessly until I caught a glimmer in the haze. A bottle had washed ashore at my feet.

Foggy depression

A healing message offered

Remember, you’re loved.

~~~

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’ Week #17 NEW Image Prompt. Join in the fun! @pursoot #IARTG #ASMSG #WritingCommunity

Hello everyone and welcome to my weekly “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!”  WEEK #17.  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 or email it to me at My email address. by DEADLINE: 4pm EDT on Thursday, SEPTEMBER, 17th . 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.

UPDATE: The response to the prompts has been just wonderful. As a result, I’ll be sharing all entries received, and, my own contribution here AS I RECEIVE THEM. Rather than posting all of them only over a few days.  Thanks to everyone for the amazing support.

Here is the week #17 Image Prompt.

message-in-a-bottle-3437294_1920

Image by Antonios Ntoumas 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

On Goodreads.

By Email.