Good Morning Henry!

Photo prompt courtesy Sue Vincent

“Henry, you’re still not up?” Mom cried out. Henry lazily opened his left eye half-way through, and then shut it again. Mom and morning could wait, sleep couldn’t.

But Mom was made of sterner stuff, and waiting was not in her DNA.

A peanut came sailing through the air, and hit Henry right on the nose.

“Ouch!” Henry exclaimed, rubbed his nose sleepily, and dozed off again.

Mom saw Henry’s supine body, and shook her head in frustration. How had she and his father, both belonging to such hard-working stock, borne someone as lazy as him? God moves in mysterious ways indeed.

Mom knew it was time for drastic steps now, otherwise the entire day would be wasted.

She took a huge mouthful of water, and calmly walked up to Henry. And then, POOOFFF, she had coughed out the water all over her son.

That did the trick, like always.

Henry shook his head violently, and opened his eyes. With considerable effort, he got up…and stretching his arms, yawned.

“Henry…nooooooooooo!!!” Mom screamed in panic.

CREAAAAAKKKK…..GROOOAAAANNNNNN!!!

Mom came running out and her eyes widened in horror. The rift in their cosy, underground apartment had widened considerably, not only increasing their home considerably in size, but also making it easier to discover by the surface dwellers.

And to think that her friends had family were jealous that she had such a muscular rat for a son!

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Written in response to Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Rift #writephoto.

 

 

 

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The Apex Predator

Photo prompt courtesy Dale Rogerson

From his position in the Ferris Wheel, Peter could just see her golden hair. It was a good thing that his target was also wearing a red dress, locating her from that height would have been impossible otherwise.

He was close to the top now. He could picture her sweet face in his mind.  A pity that he was about to do what he HAD to do.

He took careful aim, working out the Physics, taking the air velocity, and the speed and angle of the Ferris Wheel into account.

NOW.

And Peter barfed, straight at his younger sister, Emily.

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100 words.

Written as a part of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

 

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Give Me Red!

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Photo by Matthew Henry at Unsplash.com

I wrap myself in Grandma’s favourite blanket and wait.

I can still smell her sweet scent on it. She’d been so loving, so caring, so… tasty.

I just hope little Red Riding Hood has taken after her.

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198 characters.

Written in response to Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales #128.

 

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What’s Fair is Fair

Bicycles

Photo prompt courtesy Susan Spaulding

Mary came in just half a minute before Jane, and as they parked their bicycles, she couldn’t help but rub it in.

“You’re getting old,” she teased Jane.

Jane responded in mock anger, “Ha! Nice try, but unlike you, biology never lies. I’ll always remain a day younger than you!”

They laughed crazily at this, just like old times, but then, Mary suddenly went quiet as she saw the empty space between their cycles.

“It was a bad time, why can’t you forget it?” said Jane gently to her best friend.

Mary wiped a small tear from her eyes as she replied, “I can’t, he shouldn’t have come between us.”

Jane raced across the small distance between them, hugged Mary tight, and whispered, “WE shouldn’t have allowed him to come between us.”

Mary took a step back, and holding Jane by the shoulders, said, “You’re right, and that is why we had to do what’s right.”

Jane replied, “Yes, dividing him equally WAS the right thing to do. …What’s fair is fair….

Mary looked at the two backpacks, one behind each cycle, and said, “Yes, what’s fair is fair. You want the top half or the bottom half?”

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198 words.

Written as a part of Sunday Photo Fiction – March 17, 2019 , hosted by Susan Spaulding.

 

 

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The Assault

I woke up to see someone leaning over me, as if he had just kissed me, and was about to do so again.

The man had blue eyes, a chiseled jawline, an equine nose, and that blind confidence that only comes from lifelong entitlement.

“You creep,” I screamed, as I pushed at him, hard. His face registered shock as he went flying back.

I jumped up, and landed next to his supine figure. The last words I heard before I choked the life out of him were, “I’m Prince Charming, Sleeping Beauty….”

I wonder why he called me that…

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99 words.

Written as a part of Charli Mills’ Carrot Ranch March 14 Flash Fiction Challenge.

Posted in Fairy Tales, Flash Fiction, Humour, Romance, Thriller, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

The Family Heirloom

PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

My heart broke into a million pieces as I saw the piano, my piano, lie abandoned by the wayside. I would never forgive Henry for this.

So many memories of my family were associated with this piano. Countless birthdays, parties, weddings, and sadly, innumerable funerals too.

But then, Henry returned from his studies abroad, and announced, “I know this piano has been in the family for generations, but it has to go. It’s all rotted up, empty from inside.”

Empty?

How dare he?

My family had been in the piano for generations, does that count for nothing?

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97 words.

Written as a part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). To read many more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

 

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The Prime Contender

Photo by Pexel2013 at Pixabay.com

Henry took one last look at the engine before he left town, forever.

Not in a blaze of glory, but in ignominy.

The engine would have changed his life, if only…

…his cigarette hadn’t burned down his moustaches, just a night before he was supposed to pull the engine with them.

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276 characters.

Written as a part of Kat Myrman’s  Twittering Tales #127.

Posted in Flash Fiction, Humour, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments