The Docks

She sat down on the docks, her mind as dejected as the wind blowing her hair away. She hugged herself because of the cold as she shivered. The cold usually didn’t bother her, usually, she rather liked the small drizzle of rain that had no indication of stopping. But today was not a usual day for her.

She shook her head to clear them of straying thoughts and did her best to focus on the dark and decrepit scenery ahead. She’d been on these docks so many times before but never had it seemed so bad.

The day’s events kept popping up in her mind despite her valiant efforts to pretend that didn’t happen. Everything kept replaying like a broken record, highlighting the worst parts. Amidst the rain, a few tears streaked down her face.

When the sun rose, her demeanor didn’t change. But as she looked upon the rainbow in midst of such a dreary day, Em smiled despite herself.

april-pearson


Word Count: 161

Written as a response to Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by the lovely Susan. The challenge is to write a story in less than 200 words with help from the picture prompt above.

Advertisements

Pumpkins

It was pumpkin painting day at school so naturally, Em and Row were thrilled.

Em, despite being thrilled had little artistic talent but she never did let such a small thing deter her. To make up for it, she had imagination in spades, and so she put her whizzing and wheezing brain to use.

She thought hard and hard. And slowly let ideas flow from her mind into the world before her. Everything illuminating with just the barest glimmer, she had so many things she wanted to do.

Row, her ever partner in crime did not deter her. Instead, she helped where her best friend couldn’t. She mixed in colors Em didn’t think was possible and corrected the teensy tinsy mistakes Em did.

They worked hard for the hour and a half they had to work. Both girls giggling and covered in paint. But the most important of it all, they were happy and really really happy.

It was something that was theirs and they were proud of it.


Word Count: 169

Ooh boy, this was fun to write. Photo prompt by Susan on Sunday Photo Fictioner. Bit late in replying to this prompt, I know.

Memories

She stared as she felt the destruction of her childhood, she watched as she the home she grew up in got demolished unable to move, unable to do anything but look and weep silently.

Sweeping her eyes around, a new wave of nostalgia passed within her. Vivid memories replacing the desolate scenes they were now. She reminisced for it was the only thing she could.

She smiled as many familiar places jumped at her carrying an undertone of melancholia within them. The fun she’d had once, all the brilliant moments she’d experienced tainted now.

Her eyes rested on two old and decrepit armchairs and despite her sadness, she smiled bitterly. She could see her grandparents sitting there regaling her with tales of old, her tiny self, hanging on their every word.

As a piece of an old tree fell on top of them, she turned away, brushing tears she hadn’t seen fall. She kept on walking, not daring herself to look back, not able to witness anything more.

spf-09-23-18-fandango-2


Word count: 168

Written for Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by the lovely Susan. Been a while since I’ve last written anything so I hope I’ve done alright.

Serenity

She sighed as she took another sip of her drink her eyes ever so often traveling towards the sun-soaked beach. Giving herself a mental shake, she sighed again. Her eyes drifted towards the decorated clock on the wall. He should’ve been here minutes ago, he’d pay for that, oh he would.

She drifted away again, turning those thoughts away from her mind. Lost in her refreshing drink, she began to imagine all sorts of wonderful things, her eyes traveling outside every once a while.

So lost she was into her own world that she did not see, nor hear a man approaching her.

“Um, miss…” She turned her head towards the relatively overweight man, slowly, purposefully and gave him a once over. He face was strained, his body shaking, and he was sweating, a lot.

She smiled as she gestured over him to sit down. “Well, Mr. Smith, I’m glad you finally showed up.”

His excuses did not interest her. She sat her glass down, a predatory smile on her face. He shivered as she spoke. “We shall talk about your tardiness later. Now, let’s get down to business…”

Purple-Line-Divider-jpg-compressed

Word Count: 189

Written as a response to Sunday Photo Prompt, hosted by the lovely Susan. To read other stories from the same prompt, click here.

Splash

Em was bored. Her parents were off doing boring adult stuff and she was stuck watching her brother. She glared at the little kid, who in turn bared his teeth. Remembering the countless bites she’d experienced, she looked away.

There were other children nearby, in a similar predicament as theirs. But one look was enough to turn Em away from them. She wasn’t nearly as girlish to join the other girls, who seemed busy checking for lice or attempting elegant hairdos, nor was she interested in the snot-nosed brats.

One glance away was all it took. A sudden splash was heard and to her panic, her brother had decided that swimming in the fountain was a good idea.

She rushed forward, grabbing her brother by his arms tightly and instructing the other kids to call the parents. She grabbed and did not let go. She held, panicked until their parents arrived.

Many teary apologies and panics later, they got him out. And all that remained about this incident was an embarrassing story to tell.

Purple-Line-Divider-jpg-compressed

Word Count: 174

Written as a response to Flash fiction for aspiring writers prompt 169, hosted by Priceless Joy, photo copyright wildverbs. To read other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

Blast

Em stood with a smile, her body gently swaying to the beat. All around her, people were smiling, happy, enjoying the music to the fullest. She was too, the music was great, the people were trippy, and more importantly, her target was too.

Maneuvering the crowd to get closer to him was a struggle. But she was no slacker, she would get the job done, and she’d do it with a smile.

When adequately close, Em did a once-over of her target. He was sufficiently drunk, not enough to have lost coherency, but enough to make it easy for her. Looking around, and after determining the crowd’s inefficiency, she got to work.

Loud music and even louder crowds turned out in her advantage. She just walked up to him, pretended to care for her ‘boyfriend’ when he looked like he was about to pass out. After that, getting him away from the crowd was albeit hard, but she persevered.

She made her way out, grinning like a maniac. It’d be a while until the cops found his body.

She’d have a blast. After all, she was doing no wrong, just righting an injustice.

Purple-Line-Divider-jpg-compressed

Word Count: 193

Written as a response to Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner, hosted by Rodger. To read other stories of this prompt, click here.

Flamingo

Stephanie glared at the plastic flamingos outside the mall in disdain. They looked so awkward. She glanced at her watch again, sighing deeply. He should have arrived already. The gall of him, making her come here and arriving late himself. The flamingoes obviously got the brunt of her anger.

She smiled as the music began. Her favorite song, no their favorite song was playing. The memories started to flood her mind. Looking around, she smiled even more fondly. This place had held so many moments for her.

So entranced was she at the song and the past along with that she did not even notice him walking towards her. When she did, she took a double take. He was wearing a suit and looking ruggedly handsome at that too.

He slowly walked towards her, with that coy smile adorning his face. When sufficiently close, he dropped down to his knees, and to her utter amazement and shock proffered a ring towards her.

“Steph I…”

“Yes, Yes. A thousand times yes.” She shouted, not letting him get any words out. ‘

One full hour and many professions of love later, they exited the mall. Suddenly the flamingos did not look half bad.

Word Count: 200

Purple-Line-Divider-jpg-compressed

Written as a response to Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by Susan. To read other answers to this prompt click here.

 

History

History was fascinating, she thought as she walked around the ancient museum. Her eyes were taking in all the glorious relics of the past, her mind whirling at their significances throughout. Her legs were straying too far, her hands were twitching by her side.

She was engrossed in the beautiful display before her, and in her haste in taking in everything before her, she was separated from her group. She shrugged, it didn’t matter, it wasn’t like they’d notice her missing, after all.

She looked around, noticing everything other than the historical relics. All around her were people like her, fascinated by the priceless objects around her, impressed and engrossed in the display. She smiled looking at one particular item, perfect.

Alarms blared around her, and everyone around stared at her in disgust and rage. To steal something from a museum this rich and especially that item was a heinous act and if she might be so arrogant, an impossible one. The easy part was done, now remained the hard aspect. But she was prepared, she’d been prepared for a long time.

History was fascinating, she thought as she executed her escape plan, and she’d guaranteed her place in it.

Word Count: 200

Purple-Line-Divider-jpg-compressed

Written as a response to Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by the lovely Susan. To read other entries of this prompt, click here.

Spring #writephoto

Em walked down the avenue, the fresh leaves of the spring bringing a small smile to her lips. The green leaves, the soft chirps of the birds around her was bringing a newfound joy within her. The spring did great work to rejuvenate her spirits, to ease her body. She enjoyed the sight as she hadn’t before. She felt her burdens washed away as she enjoyed the small stroll, something that was very uncommon to the usual habits of the young woman.

The past few days had been hard to her. She’d shut herself in, shut the blinds firmly, and completely unresponsive to the outside world’s beauty, wallowed in sorrow. There was no great event in bringing this, there were no sudden changes in her life. Frankly put, she had no reason for the sudden bout of sadness she felt. She’d wallowed in self-despair, hating herself more and more each day, and hating herself for that very thing. It was a vicious circle, and it grew more and more each day.

There were many things contributing to this, she knew them and ever so often took steps in rectifying them. But all was in vain, as she stopped every time. She stopped and then again cursed herself for it, she always did. She always wanted to change, but she never did. And despite knowing that, she always tried again.

She was always full of excuses, she knew that. She had become very good at lying, and especially to herself. It was a bad habit, she knew that and especially because it came back to bite her every time. Yet she never stopped, she just lied and promised herself that it would one day. That day was far coming, and she knew that. Yet, she did nothing.

She shook her head as she sat down in one of the park benches. It’d do her no good to think these thoughts again. All it would serve to do was to bring back the previous feeling of despair, and she did not want that, especially not now. Instead, she concentrated on the pleasant sight before her, taking in the sweet aroma of the spring as she settled down on the warm bench.

She looked at the green leaves, a striking change from the bare winter only months before, a welcoming change and smiled. She smiled at nature’s ability to go from the dread winter to the cheery and pleasant spring. She smiled at the birds, her body filled in warmth from their song. She smiled at the cool wind, providing cool to counter the pleasant warmth of the sun. She smiled at nature, and at herself.

Today was a new day, and she vowed to make it better than yesterday. After all, the harshest winter makes way for the loveliest spring.

Purple-Line-Divider-jpg-compressed

Written as a response to  Thursday Photo Prompt, hosted by the lovely Sue over at Sue’s Daily Echo.