Five Sentence Fiction - Home

 

Lillie McFerrin's Weekly Flash Fiction Prompt - 'Home'

 

They’d forgotten how long they’d been here; they’d stopped trying to count years ago as neither of them was any good at it, they’d been dumped here too young to have learnt properly.

They never left each others side and walked hand in hand at every opportunity. It had started as a need for reassurance, but now they didn’t know any different. They were everything to each other, but then there was no one else on this tiny island.

There was no desire to go home, this was home, and they would hide from any ships that came too close. 

Visual Dare 23 - Ornate

 As always the Visual Dare prompt threw up something interesting, and took me to a different place.

 

The Illusionist 

He tapped his fingers on the table and they all fell silent. He stood up, stepping on to his chair and then the table. They all looked up at him; all the local politicians and police chiefs. He had them in the palm of his hand.

He opened his arms, facing the decorative façade of what was once an Alter.

“You are gathered here today, to bear witness to the greatest illusion yet, that of group displacement.”

A few faces looked puzzled, but all remained upturned.

He started humming and drew out his pocket watch, letting it swing from his hand. The light from the stain glass window hit it just right, just as he’d practised. Soon they were all glass-eyed. 

When he snapped his fingers they came too, finding themselves in the dungeon. Now he had them exactly where he wanted them, under lock and key. It was playtime!

150 Words

The Deal - MWBB

It seems this is becoming a regular thing, as I have yet again managed to earn a 2nd place for my entry to the Mid-Week Blues-Buster competition.

I do love the whole sound prompt thing though, and I particularly liked the song this week. It really worked for me. 

The prompt was a song:

  “Short Change Hero” by The Heavy

Josie nodded and smiled and picked up another tray of champagne to offer the guests. She slid through the suits and gave them her glazed eyed smile, just repeating the same thing over and over in her head ‘Not much longer, you can do it’.

When she got off it was late. The client offered to call her a cab, but she politely declined. She told them it was just a short walk and she would be fine.

She loved the city at this time of night; it glistened in the darkness. The streetlights reflected the recent summer storm; the air moist and hugging her close. Many wouldn’t feel safe, but she did. She had found her place here, living amongst the millions of other anonymous people. It was only the work that sucked.

She hated having to do anything, but money was a necessity and she was lucky to have found regular work. She reminded herself of that as she passed those huddled in doorways.

But she also thought about the looks on some of those suits faces as they had looked at her - or more correctly at her body. She shuddered as she walked. It was all they really wanted, to touch her body, and on occasion she had to let them.

Josie didn’t like to think about it too much, but after a night like tonight she knew she would get a call. She could say no, but then she thought about the wad of cash that would be handed to her at the end, and it was too tempting. It wouldn’t be long now before she would have enough to retire.

Jack had got her into it, telling her she could do more than just play hostess at business functions. And it was always him who called with a request, having vetted the clients first. And she would do it too - for him, and he knew why. The thought made her smile as she turned her face up to greet the light drizzle that had started. It was their own personal deal.

And she was right; the next day there was a message on her phone. Just a time and a place, she didn’t need to know more. And when she turned up there were three of them waiting.

The suite was luxurious and they allowed her to experience it as they wanted to treat her just right. They were respectful and gentle, even bathing her too. She was able to try out all the rooms, looking at them from all angles. They’d also left out the money on the ornate coffee table, which gave her something to focus on when she needed to. When they were done she left feeling more liberated than normal, and this time caught a cab home, thumbing the bundle of cash in her pocket as she went. Now it was Jack’s turn.

Josie found another message on her phone when she arrived home, telling her to block out the weekend, and she did so with a big smile.

He was waiting outside her apartment on Friday. The top down on his brand new red Mustang convertible – something he’d treated himself to as business was doing well. She climbed in looking forward to the weekend as he handed her the rings he kept in the safety deposit box.

It was just a couple of hours drive away, but it was like leaving one world and entering another. Whenever he took her home she was treated like one of the family, and for the weekend she was – the daughter-in-law, the sister-in-law, his wife. Having spent her childhood alone moving from one sleazy foster home to the next, never really belonging anywhere, this was the closest she’d ever been, and she lapped it up, embracing the fantasy.

And Jack played his part too as the dutiful husband - in every way. Sometimes she wondered how much longer she could do this, and sometimes she caught a glimpse in his eye on the way home that said the same. But for the time being it worked for them and they enjoyed the deal as it was. 

Daily Picspiration - No.3 - Catalyst

Yesterday my third Daily Picspiration entry went up.

The photo prompts are really helping the series develop.

You can read 'Catalyst' here.

NFFD - Somebody to Die For

For the National Flash Fiction Day on June 22nd 2013, several competitions are run, and you can also submit a piece for an anthology called Jawbreakers.

I submitted a piece for the anthology, and although I wasn't successful (they picked just 50 out of 300 entries), I liked my little piece.

Title: Somebody to Die for

She squashed herself into the corner under the bridge trying to make herself as invisible as possible. She shut her eyes against the dank surroundings and the others sitting there in their dirty clothing. The smell of despair was all over them, mixed with the reek of desperation.

She slipped her ear phones out of the hidden pocket inside her jacket. She didn’t want anyone seeing them; they might snatch them off her. She pressed the button on the tiny disc play and let the music take her. If she climbed inside it she would be safe.

As the notes took her, the lyrics penetrated her mind bringing tears to her eyes. She let them fall, let them wash her face and cleanse her of the dirt of life on the street. The words recalled all the things she still desired for herself, reminding her of the frustration that they might now never be possible. She hugged her knees and rocked. She lived inside the song imagining the love and passion it spoke of, letting her soul feel the very idea, her mind drifting to scenarios of joy and happiness.

She fought the little voice that told her that it would never happen for her now. She resisted its negativity. She squeezed her eyes tight and held onto the singer’s voice willing it to carry her away.  

Like an electric shock the touch of another’s hand on her shoulder made her jump to her feet, almost causing her to head butt the owner.

“Sarah? Is it you?”

The sweetness of his voice almost broke her heart and she flicked the earphones out in one swift motion as she threw her arms round his neck.

“David, I found you!” As she squeezed him tight and buried her face in his shoulder, she ignored the foul stench of his thin coat. She caressed his oily, limp hair, remembering when it had been fresh.

“How long have you been here?” He pulled her back, anger in his eyes as he searched hers for understanding.

“About a week. I couldn’t be there without you. Everything seemed pointless.”

His hands clenched her arms and he gave her a slight shake as he said, “But you can’t be here Sarah, it’s not safe for you. You have to go back now! Tonight!”

She hadn’t expected him to reject her, her stomach churned at the thought of leaving alone. “I’m not going anywhere without you.” She stood firm, defiant.

He sighed. His eyes softening and he embraced her. “I can’t stay, you know that, I have to remain hidden, but I’ll take you back.” He noticed her earphones. “What you been listening to?”

She grinned. “Your favourite. Here have a listen.” She pushed one of them in his ear, and put the other in hers. She watched as his face relaxed and a smile appeared, and they both floated away into the song, momentarily forgetting their hopeless situation.  

Five Sentence Fiction - Desolate

 

Lillie McFerrin's Weekly Flash Fiction Prompt - 'Desolate'

 

 

 

 

They saw it coming and no one did anything about it. They paid no heed to all the talk about climate change or global warming; they all thought it was someone else's responsibility.

Tammy shivered trying to ignore the hunger pangs in her tummy. She stroked the frightened kitten that shared her box under the bridge, and thought about how she liked to play with the one she’d been given for her fifth birthday, just a little while ago. She wondered what had happened to it, and whether it was with her mum and dad somewhere.

High - MWBB

This was my entry to the Mid-Week Blues-Buster competition, which brought me a 2nd Place.

The prompt was a song:

  “Take it as it comes” by The Doors 

(In recognition of the keyboard player Ray Manzarek, who died recently)

 

 

She inhaled the smoke deeply and held it while he desperately tried to make her laugh, prancing about the room like a nude nymph. It didn’t suit him, he didn’t have the physique for it; he was too skinny. Her mind drifted into thoughts about the perfect figure and how it could be possible, how it was only a matter of refining certain things in your life. She looked down at herself and smiled. No matter how much ‘munchie food’ she ate she didn’t seem to gain a thing. She watched her chest deflate as she exhaled and marvelled at how amazing the body was.

Then he touched her and she felt it shiver along her skin. Every hair felt the touch of his finger as it ran up her bare thigh. She watched as he reached the top, hovering as though debating direction, then travelling on up her rib cage, faltering at a couple of moles and circling them.

She inhaled air, watching her ribcage expand and his finger going up and down. She giggled and he giggled too, and then they couldn’t stop.

The bed they lay on was messy, as though they had been there for days…and it might have been; neither of them knew anymore.

The doorbell rang and they froze looking at each other with dawning horror that there was a person out there, potentially a straight person that they’d have to interact with. Paranoia crept at the edges of their thoughts. He rushed into some loose trousers, half falling in his attempt to look respectable, and running his fingers repeatedly through his hair as he left the room, shaking his head as though trying to clear it and not look quite so stoned.

She heard laughter at the front door and then footsteps coming back. Two heads popped round the door and she grinned; it was play time. His two friends started stripping between drags of the joint they’d been working on and crawled onto the bed next to her.

Now she had three fingers to watch and they just made her giggle more and more. She slipped into the fuzzy delight of pure sensation and went with it.

The next morning she came to and found herself entangled in three other sleeping bodies. She tried to remember what had happened, but could only remember the smoking, giggling and lots of touching. She smiled to herself; they’d fallen asleep and nothing had happened. She knew it; it wasn’t the first time. So she just lay there and waited. It wouldn’t be long, and then the party would start again, but this time with some follow through.