Hell’s guardian

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

“Hey! Look what we got there!!” whispered Gary.

“Is that? Wow! It IS different, isn’t it? We should take it as a sample”. Bosco was pure excitement.

Being herpetologists, they skillfully bagged the snake.

Back in the car and a few miles down, they could not help but observe the contrast of scenes. The forest had morphed into hell’s playground, denuded to make way for a refinery.

Gary regarded the box next to him, holding the precious treasure, a legacy for all generations to come. Bosco’s voice penetrated his thoughts.

“So, what do we name him?”

“Cerberus” said Gary grimly.


Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle.

In Greek mythology, Cerberus, often called the “hound of Hades”, is the monstrous multi-headed dog that guards the gates of the Underworld to prevent the dead from leaving.

Reference:

https://news.nationalgeographic.com/2017/03/new-snake-atractus-ecuador-cerberus-animals/

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Yes. She does!

PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy

Everything felt good. The sun shining on her face, the luminescent green of the course, the happy vibe in her heart.

Everything felt different. Were these the same greens on which she had walked for so many years? Somehow today, it seemed to pulsate with life.

Everything was perfect. There was Sam, cheering her on; just as she had done for so many years. He looked ecstatic.

She thought about the five words that had started it all.
“Why don’t you try it?”

“Seriously? Do girls even play this?”

“Well, my girl does” he had said kissing her.


Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle.

Some reference: http://discgolfreviewer.com/wanted-more-women-disc-golfers/

The Cold Reality

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

 

She walked on the icy pavement in front of the warehouse; oblivious to the trees that had cried through the night too. Chattering teeth were her answer to the icy silence of the yard. Unable to move anymore, she plopped down in front of the door; hugging herself, trying to stay alive. The sun peeped out, breaking free of its cold shackles and she waited – for death or an angel, she didn’t know.

“Follow your dreams,” they say. But they never say how; how to make a living in an alien city; how not to die there alone and miserable.


Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.

A job for an artist

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

“It was a beautiful day – almost perfect in its serenity. It demanded to be remembered, memorized. I set down my easel on the bank of the river, near the bend, at sunset. Glorious orange hues bounced and reflected off innumerable surfaces.

I never realized that one of those surfaces was the knife; never knew I had been present at the time of the murder. I realized it only the next day while watching the news.”

“Oh! What did you do then?”

“I went to the police station immediately. They now say it takes an artist’s observations to catch criminals!”


Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.

 

Young and wild

PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy

“Oh! Will you please let that poor bird alone?”

“One minute…”

“You have been telling that for 10 minutes now!”

“I would take just one minute if you would help with the photo. I can’t both hold the bird and take a photo at the same time!”

“Then don’t! Just let the bird go.”

“But mom!!! I caught him – myself, with my bare hands.”

“That’s nothing to be proud of, you idiot!”

“How would you know? Never seen you around animals.”

“Well, what do you consider yourself young man? God knows I have enough wild on my hands.”


Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.

Pride

red-apple-rest-jhc

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Rajiv let his camera feast on the dilapidated building; like an uncut gem, jutting out from the polished glass of the neighborhood.

 

Satisfied, he approached the watchman to satiate his own curiosity.

“Say. How come this place isn’t a mall yet?”

“Some court case Sir.”

“I see. When did this factory close?”

“I am told, about 30 years back.”

“Wow! Why don’t they settle? Seems like an awful waste of time and money.”

“I wouldn’t know sir.”

“Sure. Thank you.”

 

Rajiv turned back. He knew. Land and money seldom caused battles. The same though, couldn’t be said about men’s pride.


Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.

 

The stranger

old-shoes-cobwebs
PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

Dying alone is the worst curse. He had been dead for three days before I realized I hadn’t seen him. We had hardly known each other. Just a nod of the head as I passed his home. But still, I felt miserable. I had to do something for him. So what if he was dead?

I decided to help clean his apartment. The little there was enough to tell me that he liked flowers and the color red; collected chopsticks. I also found a pair of old, cobwebbed shoes. That meant, he wasn’t born a cripple… I wonder, what happened?

Word count: 100


Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.

Once upon a time

hearty-breadOnce upon a time, there was a king who was kind and loved by the people of his kingdom. As a result, he also had many enemies. They hatched a plan to poison his food.

The wise king came to know about such plans and solicited the help of an ancient sage; who cast a timeless spell.

“All food would bear the mark of all the people who handled it. Hearts would appear when cooked with love; darkness otherwise.”

The king thereafter only consumed food cooked with love. He continued his service to his people until the ripe old age of 150.

PHOTO PROMPT © Kelvin M. Knight

Word Count: 101


Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.

Hide and seek

danny-boweman-1

PHOTO PROMPT © Danny Bowman

The sun set, after a journey that had started with mine. Apparently the sun, as my love, decided to play hide and seek with me, hiding behind those hills. The sun would return tomorrow. What about her?

“You? Here? How did you find this place?” she uttered through shock.
“I can’t lose you”
“I… can’t come back.”
“Hiding in the middle of nowhere doesn’t change anything, Asha. Yes, we lost everything. But it was our doing, not yours. There are always second chances for those who believe. Stop punishing yourself like this!”

Asha’s tears drenched the parched land. I entered.

Word count: 100


Flash Fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.

ReRuin

smallpox-hospital-roger-bultot

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bulltot

If you like history, this is heritage. If you don’t, this is romance. If you don’t care for either, this is a resort.

ReRuin. Rewriting history.

“This is the perfect ad! Thank you Elber!”

“Glad to be of service. So, when do you open?”

“Next week.”

“Great! You know, I do appreciate what you are doing here. Saving this place from crumbling.”

“Thanks…. It needs to be done, by someone.”

“I agree… I believe that understanding history is so important for understanding the present. That’s why you are getting this ad free.”

“What really?! Thank you so much!”

Word Count: 99


Just as a note. The “i” in ReRuin needs to be stricken out. This editor isn’t allowing me to do that. So, perhaps your imagination could :).


Flash Fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.

 

Place to dream

“I need a place to dream,” Polly said looking out at the high rises around her.

“Well, the bed is right there,” Mother said irritating her further. She returned to her book, drowning in it, escaping her boxed reality.

lights-of-sturgis

PHOTO PROMPT© Jan Wayne Fields

The beauty of the place took her stale breath away, infusing her with fresh life. The “shorter route” had led them to paradise.

“Mom! This… I don’t know what to…”

“I know dear. Go dream” Mother said leading her forward through the string of starry fairy lights. For that night, they let the nothingness beyond the tent weave theirs dreams.

Word count: 99


Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictoneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.


Thank you, Rochelle and Jan for this stunning pic. It really is a place of dreams and starry nights.

The beacon

closet-shower-2

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Sahil anxiously opened the door to his tiny apartment. Rita hadn’t answered his calls all day and now the apartment was completely dark. He immediately rushed to the bathroom – its light glowing like a beacon. Here, he found her note.

“All these years you let me wallow in penury. You never let me have even 100 bucks for myself. How could you have been so selfish you bastard! Don’t try to contact me and good luck finding your stash.”

Sahil collapsed on the floor. He thought he had gotten away with the heist… If only she had called him!

Word count: 100


Flash fiction in response to “Friday Fictioneers” hosted by the lovely Rochelle.