Archives

The Mission…Flash Fiction

From the confines of the van, they watched as the embers spat, crackled and popped furiously.

‘Do you think they will ever find out?’ 

‘Except someone tells them and I expect you have no such plans,’ the veiled threat in Vladimir’s words barely concealed.

His pale blue eyes shone with satisfaction in the darkly lit van. The mission has been successful. All the evidence has either been eliminated or burnt to cinders.

‘Of course not,’ Helmut quickly replied. He pulled his cloak a bit tighter and took a long sip from a small bottle of Vodka,  the warmth of the fiery liquid unable to stop the frisson of chill he had within. He knew his days were numbered.

©

Jacqueline

Written in response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you, Enisa for the photo and PJ for hosting. 

 

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New Beginnings…flash fiction

She had to work fast ‘cos it was now or never. Agatha felt a slight pang of guilt at what she was about to do, but her resolve hardened at the thought of freedom and new beginnings.

Finally, she would escape Simon’s pimping clutches. With her mind on the dream of a whole new life and personae, some money in the bank and a new home in a city where no one knew her or her sordid past, she stuck the feathered note under the lapel of his jacket as instructed. The agents have enough evidence of his drug runs, human trafficking, and organ harvesting to put him away for a very long time.

Generously helping herself to the stash of cash in the wardrobe, she adjusted her Spanx, joined the men in the smoke-filled living room and waited.

©

Jacqueline

Written in response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you, Raymond, for the photo and PJ for hosting. 

Brooke…Flash Fiction

As I stood in the shallow pool of water, freeze-framed images of us dancing, laughing and splashing water like children played consistently in my minds eye.

Brookes’ happy laughter echoed with delight in my ears. This little gem of a place brought out that childish joy in her that made my heart bloom when I watched her face radiate and her cheeks pinken with pleasure.

I felt her presence, as real and as solid as if she stood beside me. Out of habit, I stretched out a hand to grasp hers, but the emptiness and lack of her warm palm hit me hard.

Has it only been six weeks? Six weeks sounds so short, yet it felt like an eternity. An eternity of hellish existence. Those dreaded words still rang in my heart and I still felt as shell-shocked as I had felt in the Oncologists office. Words like, ‘biopsy, chemotherapy, aggressive, incurable Cancer, metastasized’ and the worst of all ‘few weeks left’…changed our lives so drastically.

I stood there and in that shallow pool of water ‘the secret brook that Brooke loved’ for the first time, I allowed the hot tears to flow freely. I had had to stay strong and had not allowed her to see me cry.

©

Jacqueline

Written in response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you, Enisa, for the photo and PJ for hosting. 

P.S. Priceless Joy, sorry for the late submission. I had auto-set it to publish yesterday but for some tech reasons, it didn’t go live.

The Rainbow Chaser…Flash Fiction

Helena loves chasing rainbows even when everyone thinks that she’s cuckoo.

They remind her of her dad and the stories that he shared with her throughout his life.

He was particularly fond of rainbows and his last words to her before he passed were ‘anytime you see a rainbow, I am somewhere there riding it.’

 

Written in response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you, Mark, for the photo and PJ for hosting. 

Fishing Hour…Flash Fiction

The Heron stared longingly at the water and the other side. There was barely a nibble in his line of sight, yet across the lake, the tangled webs of deceit from the greedy humans brimmed with fish.

Through the ripples, he could see his own reflection as clear as the day. He noticed his neck had grown thinner and longer from rationed portions of fish and he croaked in annoyance.

His fishing hours grew longer by the day but each new day brought more boats and humans to the quay and the water grew darker with oil from all manner of engines.

In response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you J.S for the photo and PJ for hosting. 

Running Empty…

The sparse cupboard with the solitary pack of Batchelor soup and canned beans stared back at him as if in mockery. His posh apartment was a sorry mess. Take out boxes and dirty mugs littered the kitchen and George wondered when his life had become so empty.

He was fatigued from months of insufficient sleep and taking work home; the promotion came with more responsibilities than anticipated. He was tired of eating out of paper boxes, he missed having a decent relationship with anyone and would have given a tooth for some helping of the curry flavourful dish that floated down the corridor from his married neighbours’ apartment; his tummy grumbled at the thought.

The ping of the microwave interrupted his thoughts and the cup of overflowing soup that looked more like lava made him swear. With a sigh of resignation, he picked up the phone to call Chinatown. The hum of voices and laughter from next door sharply reminded him that a robust bank balance did not make up for loneliness.

© Jacqueline

Thank you artycaptures for the photo-prompt and my lady P.J. our amiable hostess.

Check out my latest book ‘Unbridled.’

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