Braveheart

 

Photo prompt courtesy Sue Vincent

“Are you sure he’s going to come this way?” I asked my best friend.

“Absolutely, I have it right from the horse’s mouth,” came the reply.

I shifted slightly within the narrow confines of the space under the stone, and said, “OK, so we wait.”

My friend said apprehensively, “Is this really the only way? Can’t we talk to him or something?”

“No,” I replied grimly, “this is our land, and we will not allow him and his ilk to despoil it anymore.”

“But….he’s so much bigger than us,” my friend stuttered. He seemed to be developing cold feet as our wait increased.

“Don’t worry,” I assured him confidently, “my Dad always used to tell me- Real power lies within.”

A resolute look came on his face as he heard that, and he said, “Yes, together, we can take him on. He’s powerful, but so are we.”

Suddenly, we heard a rumble, and the ground beneath us started shaking.

“That’s our sign. NOW!” I shouted.

He jumped from the small ledge, landing on the ground, and shouted majestically, “STOP! We will not allow you on our land from now on. My friend and I will….”

And it was then that he noticed that I had not joined him, and was still hiding under the stone.

“He’s almost here. What are you doing?” he cried out.

“Following my Dad’s advice,” I replied, “real power lies within…within this hiding hole, that is. So I’ll be damned if I’m coming out to face that….”

My words were drowned out as the rampaging herd of horses finally passed by, squashing my best friend to a pulp.

I guess my friend should have remembered, however hard you might rattle, at the end of the day, we’re still snakes.

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

 

 

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Childhood Crush

PHOTO PROMPT © Randy Mazie

Panting heavily, Mary rushed into the abandoned building, and banged the door shut behind her.

Tears ran down her eyes as she recalled how everyone used to comment on how inseparable both of them were.

But then, they grew up, and it was fun and games no more.

He refused to leave her alone for even a second. She felt like she was being smothered mercilessly.

And so, she ran, away from him, towards freedom, and safety.

Suddenly, she heard a scraping at the door, and her face went white.

CRASH!

Mary’s little lamb had followed her here too!

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99 words.

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

Bang for the Buck

Photo by David Reed at Pixabay.com

“Mom, can I please go back to my Video Game now?”

“Just a few more minutes sweety, keep making those weird sounds and waving your arms.”

“But our team needs me.”

“So do they on the helicopter, son. They’ve paid top dollars for a peek into the life of an authentic indigenous tribe.”

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280 characters.

Written as a part of Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales #148 – August 6, 2019.

My Cup Runneth Over

Photo courtesy of Alexis Ortiz

The crowd flocked outside the magnificent abbey was looking not towards, but away from the abbey. Their eyes stood wide-open, and they stood transfixed. And the reason for this phenomenon was a sight that was truly bewitching.

A woman of mature years, dressed like a Nun,  was dancing in the square outside the abbey.

She was dancing with gay abandon, as if there was no tomorrow. Her limbs flowed sinuously with the wind, her body swayed gracefully to an unheard rhythm, like a snake writhing to captivate its prey. She jumped and pirouetted like a girl of sixteen, and the wild, joyful expression on her face could have risen the dead.

“Who is THAT?” a man asked a Nun standing next to him.

The Nun replied in a matter-of-fact manner, “The Mother Abbess!”

“WHAT???” cried out the crowd surrounding her.

“Yes, she’s got some really good news today,” another Nun piped in.

“What? She’s been promoted to the Vatican?” asked a wise guy.

“Even better,” another Nun replied, “she’s just come to know that Maria is getting married to Captain Von Trapp, and won’t be coming back to the Abbey!”

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190 words.

Written in response to two challenges:

Sunday Photo Fiction – August 4 2019

and

FANDANGO’S ONE-WORD-CHALLENGE: BEWITCHING.

A Star is Born

As I reached the edge of the stage, and saw the crowd, I almost ran back.

I knew how merciless this seemingly innocent crowd could be.

But then, I thought of the adulation that would follow my performance, and my spine stiffened.

I turned around, and marched towards the center of the stage with a swagger.

The crowd immediately fell silent.

But I could sense them getting restless as I fumbled with the mic.

And then, I cleared my throat and started singing, “Baa Baa Black Sheep….”.

And students of Class Nursery-A finally had their very own rock star!

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99 words.

Written in response to the Carrot Ranch August 1 Flash Fiction Challenge, hosted by Charli Mills.

Stranded

 

Photo courtesy Sue Vincent

I looked at the sinister mist slowly creeping down the empty road, and a strong shiver ran down my spine. Soon, it would envelope me completely, and then, there was absolutely no hope that someone passing by would see me, even with my figure-hugging dress that showcased my stunning good looks.

I was standing next to my car, which was parked by the side of the road with its bonnet open. My arm had been ready to go up and signal for help for hours now, but not a single car had passed this way. And now, I was beginning to get worried, really worried.

There was no cellphone reception this deep in the forest, and if the wrong sort of guy saw me stranded in this condition, who knows what could happen.

I wiped a thin stream of sweat off my forehead, and prayed to all the Gods whose names  I could remember, asking them to send a car to pick me up, but with a good, righteous man in it.

Just then, as if one or all of those Gods had heard my prayers, I saw a faint beam of light piercing through the creeping mist. My face lit up with joy and anticipation, but still, there was a cloud of uncertainty on my features. I was about to face the moment of truth.

As the black sedan appeared out of the mist, I raised my arm to signal the driver to stop. The car slowed down as it neared me, and the driver rolled down the window on the passenger’s side to look at me clearly.

Cruising gently, the car passed me, then came to a halt as if the driver had finally made up his mind. I walked up to the car, and bent slightly to look inside.

The car was empty except for the driver. He was a good-looking chap, in a dangerous sort of way. Dressed sharply in a black suit, he exuded wealth, and confidence.

“Can I help you?” he asked in a soft, suave voice.

“My car broke down,” I replied, “can you please drop me to the nearest garage?”

“Of course,” he said, “hop in.”

I got into the car, and heaved a sigh of relief. My troubles finally seemed to be at an end.

He started the engine, and said, “My name is Richard, by the way. Please fasten the seatbelt.”

I turned around and said, “Hi Richard, can you please keep your hands where I can see them, and then, slowly take out anything of value that you have on you, and put it on the dashboard?”

As Richard looked in panic at the Glock in my hand, I had a feeling that I would not need to ask him twice.

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Written in response to the #writephoto Prompt – Destination at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

 

 

 

Affairs of the State

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

“Do you really HAVE to go?” she asked tearfully.

“I don’t want to, but affairs of the State beckon. I’ll be back soon to pick you up, enjoy your time with your family till then,” I replied, wiping away the hint of a tear.

We kissed long and hard, and then, she jumped off the plane, and disappeared into the water.

I shook my head to get ahold of my emotions, and told the pilot, “Let’s go.”

The pilot asked, “Where to?”

I replied curtly, “To Cinderella, of course. We’ve already taken too much time in dropping off Ariel.”

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99 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.