The Winning Number…

February 29, 2016March 1, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha28 Comments

Carl was tired to the bones and felt disgruntled about his job. It was mere drudgery with little pay.

The new foreman was also an ass who kept yelling at people.

He regretted dropping out of college and wished he could start all over. Girls and booze was a pastime that got old fast and with Sue pregnant with a second child. He worried.

Break time was a little reprieve, so he ambled over to the deli where the other men gathered for a quick lunch.

All eyes were glued to the excited TV presenter who called out the winning lottery numbers. Each man read his ticket hopefully.

Carl paid no mind. He had bought just one ticket for reasons he couldn’t explain.

The cashier exclaimed that the ticket had been sold in the deli.

Each man checked his stub again and he fumbled in the back pocket of his dirty jeans to find his.

The ground rushed to meet him in dead faint. He had the winning number.

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In response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you Ellespeth’s friend for the photo and Priceless Joy for this enchanting platform

Fiction · Short Stories · Uncategorized

Dear Andrew…

February 22, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha30 Comments

Sybil’s fingers trembles and as she sends the text message to Andy. It’s better this way, because she couldn’t stand to look him in the face and break the news to him.

Hopefully, he would be so mad that he won’t want to see her when he gets into town.

For weeks he talked of how they would get married, so she would return to Pennsylvania with him and she had been joyful.

Now, those dreams are never going to be. It all seems so surreal as she stares into the distance.

She’s loved Andy forever and everyone thought that they would end up together.

How she had ended sleeping with Jason still puzzles her. All she remembers was cuddling up to him as he helped her to the truck. A night out in town, several drinks and she was out like light.

Jason was a good friend to both of them and now this.

She wonders how he would take the news that he is to become a father. There will be ripples in town.

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In response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you TJ for the photo and Priceless Joy for this enchanting platform

Fiction · Love · Short Stories

25 Years Later…Flash Fiction

February 15, 2016February 15, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha31 Comments

Their fabulous anniversary party was over and Rita sipped chamomile tea with a relaxed sigh.

Twenty-Five years, yet it seemed just like yesterday.

She watched Greg change into his pajamas to join her in bed as she dwelt on their time together and how it all started.

Bright things attracted her so she always gravitated towards the red bench, where she ate her sandwich and watched people go by.

Until he decided he liked the chair as well and appropriated it for himself.

She had felt ticked-off, but decided not to allow his presence to deprive her of her little pastime.

She would hurry to get the seat before him, but he would sit silently beside her and read his newspaper.

Till she started missing him on the days he failed to appear.

Looking at his graying temple as he flipped through the papers, she knew such contentment and decided to replace the park chair.

The last time she walked by, it looked worn with years.

Who knows, a new bench might perform some magic.

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In response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you Ady for the photo and Priceless Joy for this enchanting platform

Creative Writing · Fiction · Short Stories

Rolls of Dice…

January 18, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha28 Comments

Mike held his breath and closed his eyes. Anxiety curled in his stomach like viper.

He knew that the roll of the dice determined his doom.

For minutes, he reviled himself for the gambling, which overtook his senses.

Going to town with the lads had turned out not to be a very good idea.

A mug of beer became several and a roll of dice turned into several rolls too many.

‘I should have stuck with the coin machines.’ He thought.

‘What will I tell Bernadette?‘

‘How do I explain that I have lost the inheritance.’ ‘That we are heading for the poor house?‘

Like a man waiting for the knell of the tomb bell, the jingle of dices sounded ominous and then it stopped.

Gasps, shifting of bar stools and music in the background sounded louder.

Bracing himself he opened his eyes.

Incredible! By some lucky God of Roulette he won.

‘You lucky son of a gun,’ Todd pounded his back.

‘Well, drinks are on you.’

He collected his winnings, left several dollar bills for drinks and decided to go home.

In response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you Etol for the photo and Priceless Joy for your enabling platform.

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Creative Writing · Fiction · Short Stories

Barnaby is up to his usual tricks…

January 11, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha14 Comments

Philomena just started her new job as the lab technician. A lab with lots of gadgets, even a full-bodied skeleton.

She gets down to work intending to leave good impressions on her new boss, but something feels off.

Looking at the skeleton, it seems to have moved a few more inches.

‘It must be the light’ she mutters.

A shuffling sound has her turning. She is sure that the skeleton winked at her.

‘No! I must be imagining things.‘

Then she felt the slight ruffle of the hair at the nape of her neck.

Yelping in alarm, she dashes out to the hallway, almost knocking her new boss over in her haste.

What’s the problem, Philomena?

She barely utters a word, flapping like a crazed woman.

‘Oh darn it!’ He exclaims.

‘Barnaby is up to his old tricks.’

‘Not to worry my dear. He is quite harmless and very friendly too.’

‘He wants to get acquainted.’

‘He was the resident scientist who blew himself up in an experiment.’

‘He just can’t stop lingering in the lab.’

In response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Compliments to Pixabay for the photo and Priceless Joy for this challenge platform.

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Creative Writing · Fiction · Short Stories

Smoking Grass…

January 4, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha11 Comments

Gabe gazed with mixed emotions at the odd shaped object that sat on top of the mounted poles.

He felt admiration, irritation and also a sense of shame. He knew that his proud attitude would have cost them so much even though he hated to admit it.

He had derided Smoking Grass when the young Indian scout came up with the idea of constructing a reservoir from the tough hides of the dead Buffalo instead of allowing it to go to waste.

He had felt that it was highfalutin nonsense.

‘What did the young blade know?’

He could trust Smoking Grasses riding, hunting and tracking skills to a large extent, but that was as far as he was willing to go.

However, from the look of things, the young lad had proven him wrong, yet again.

The thick reservoir sat there proudly collecting the falling rain.

Finally, the rain had come just as the boy predicted.

They had not seen a drop of rain for the past seven hot months and the wells had gone bone dry.

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In response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you Sonya for the photo and Priceless Joy for this challenge platform.

Creative Writing · Fiction · Short Stories

Waiting…

December 28, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha26 Comments

She slowly shuffled down the alley, her old, pink umbrella barely kept the light drizzle from dripping through.

She looked at the piece of telegram in her hand, it had yellowed with age and handling, yet the faint words were emblazoned on her mind.

He had said to wait for him at the old alley, where they always had their secret rendezvous, away from the prying eyes of goldfish bowl town of theirs.

They were to leave town and start anew; but he never came.

Year after year, she faithfully trudged back. Patiently waiting for him to arrive and take her away, but no news; nothing to show that he ever existed.

At ‘The Home’ they looked at her with eyes of pity. They called her fancy names: delusional, dementia and indulged her racy thoughts.

The last laugh would be hers.

Each time she dressed to go, sure that it would be that day, though it has been 28 years of going to the alley to wait.

He would come.

He promised.

Pete is a man of his words.

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In response to the FFfAW photo prompt above. Thank you Etol for the photo and Priceless Joy for this challenge platform.

Creative Writing · Fiction · Short Stories

Bright Long John…

December 21, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha19 Comments

The name had changed from Bright Scholars to Saint Brigid’s, but the trademark bicycle ‘Long John’ was still mounted at its entrance weathering the elements.

The owner of the bicycle was the founder, teacher and headmaster of St. Brigid’s.

He was called Bright Long John. The first son-of-the-soil who could communicate with the foreigners in their strange language. He was Umuchime’s ears and mouthpiece with these strangers.

Folklore has it that he kept his bicycle ‘the only one far and wide’ in impeccable state. That the distinctive jingle of it’s bells were heard from afar when he rode down the village paths.

”What happened to him Papa?” Onyeka inquired.

”No one is sure. It is said that one day, after starting the school, he vanished.”

”A search was done but he was never found.”

”The belief is that he was kidnapped and pressed into slavery in foreign lands.”

”His bicycle was kept for him just in case he returned, but he never did.”

”Sometimes, at nights the bells of the bicycle can still be heard jingling down the village paths.”

In response to the FFfAW photo prompt above. Thank you Priceless Joy for this challenge platform.

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Quick Glossary

Umuchime – Means ‘the children of Chime.’ A ficticious name of a village in Eastern part of Nigeria

Creative Writing · Fiction · Hope · Love · Short Stories

The Place…

December 14, 2015December 14, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha35 Comments

He wiped his glasses again in an attempt to steady his nerves. The ring in his pocket was burning a hole through the lining.

Every passing moment, his pulse increased a notch.

”Would she say yes?” he pondered.

This is where he met Lily the first time. He was a busboy and she, the daughter of a rich squire.

His love had grown from afar but, he had said nothing, until it was too late and she got married to Arnold.

A lot had changed over the years. Her husband Arnold died and so did his wife. From a busboy, he is now the owner of the restaurant.

Lily came back to settle her late father’s estate and seeing her transported him back to 25 years ago, to his huge crush which had blossomed into love that had never stopped and he knew that he wouldn’t let her walk away once again.

The glimpse of her swinging blond hair and smiling face, caused his heart to trip as she walked over to join him.

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In response to the FFfAW photo prompt above. Thank you Louise for the photo and Priceless Joy for this challenge platform.

Creative Writing · Fiction · Short Stories

Barnyard Circus…

December 7, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha20 Comments

The circus came to town. Lizzy wished to go, but she knew that was unlikely.

They were poor. Ma couldn’t afford such frivolities as she called it, but Lizzy’s eager heart still yearned.

As she milked Bess her friend, she confided in her.

”Oh Bess, it would be lovely to see those wonderful things that Alice described.” Bess mooed in understanding. When she was done, she patted Bess, collected eggs from Henrietta and went back to the cottage.

Bess mooed to Henrietta, who clucked to Gertrude the Gander, who quacked to Bucko the goat, who bleated to Gobbles the Turkey, until Hootensia the wise barn owl made a suggestion and they agreed to the plan.

What a wonderful time Lizzy had. Lots of fun stuff to do and bright lights too.

Her animal friends and the fairies dotted on her. They made face paints from flower petals and wove a flower tiara for Lizzy.

When she woke up, she was disappointed that it was a dream, until she saw some petals stuck in her hair and the sprinkle of gold dust on her window ledge.

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In response to the FFfAW photo prompt above. Thank you Priceless Joy for this challenge platform.