Flash Fiction

September 23, 2016

FFfAW: Infinity

photo by Joy Pixley

“Come, follow me,” she breathed.

“All the way up?” A pain shot through my neck as I craned it back to look at forever.

“Of course. Where else?” She laughed and her dark hair flew behind her as she raced up the steps two at a time.

I tried to keep up, but she kept getting farther and farther away. My legs turned to lead and I leaned against the banister, gasping for breath. “Wait for me! I can’t make it!”

Her voice echoed down, tinged with sadness. “It’s okay. I thought maybe we could go together, but now I know it isn’t allowed.”

“When will I see you again?” I cried out.

Her full-throated laugh floated to my ears. “When it’s your time, love. And I’ll be here waiting to see you at the top. Now go.”

I trudged back down the stairs, my heart heavy and eyes wet.

Word Count: 150

Written for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt. For more stories by talented writers click the blue frog button.

September 23, 2016

Daily Prompt: A Generous Spirit

“Mind if I sit here?”

I looked up from my ham sandwich and chips to see a pretty brown-haired girl with sparkling blue eyes, and a smile that seemed impossibly wide and bright. I sat stunned anyone would talk to me, much less sit by me, so I didn’t answer other than to nod.

She set her tray down across from me and stuck out her hand. “I’m Jen. And you are?”

I took her hand slowly, wandering if this was some haze the new guy trick. “John.”

“Nice to meet you, John. Just moved here, huh?”

I glanced around the lunchroom, seeing others throw stares and whispers. I frowned and turned back to her. “Is this some kind of trick?”

She looked surprised and hurt. “What are you talking about?”

I gestured toward my body, tall, overweight and unattractive. “Pretty girls just don’t talk to guys like me.”

She grinned. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Uh…”

She swung her hand in a grand gesture which encompassed the entire room. “Look, I grew up here and know all these people already. I love meeting new people and getting to know them. I’m not trying to trick you or anything, I just like making new friends.”

I could feel my face flush. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

“It’s fine. I can understand if you want to be alone.” She grabbed her tray and made to leave.

“No. Wait!” I gestured to her seat. “Please. I…I don’t have any friends here. I would like it if you stayed and talked.”

She smiled at me and I felt my face respond. She sat back down and grabbed her milk. “Okay, but you’re wrong you know.”

“What?”

“You’re wrong. You have at least one friend here.”

***

10 years later

“Mind if I sit here?”

I stand beside a new hire sitting in the break room by herself while everyone else chats with people they’ve known for years. She nods her head and I plop down in the seat across from her. I can see the confusion and suspicion on her face as I stick out my hand. “Hi. I’m John and I like to meet new people.”

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My contribution for the WordPress Daily Prompt. The one-word prompt for the day was Generous. I have had the good fortune to meet many generous people this past year as I go through nursing school and I’m proud to call them friends.

via Daily Prompt: Generous

September 21, 2016

Friday Fictioneers: Essence

I’m a little rusty after being away so long, but I hope to shake it off soon. One way to do that: Friday Fictioneers! Every week Rochelle posts a picture for inspiration and a bunch of talented writers tell a 100 word story about it based on what they see. The photo below, a very beautiful picture, is from Roger Bultot. My story follows and I hope you enjoy.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

“What’s that?”

I glance over at my son, so lost and alone. Guilt lashes me as I’m the reason for his loneliness, but maybe I can fix that. “You remember what I told you about Essence? Watch.”

I stand at the foot of the staircase and push the button on a silver device the size of a paperback.  Pinpoints of light burst into being above where we saw her last. “She’s not gone, just organized…differently.”

“She’s pretty.” Tears streak a face too young to hold so much pain. “She was prettier before.”

I hold him close, my tears mingling with his. “I agree.”

Word count: 103

My inspiration came from a recent loss of a friend and something another friend sent me to help me through:

Thank you for this, AT and thanks to all my friends for coming together.

I love you all.

J. Milburn

http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=663286

February 2, 2014

Sunday Photo Fiction: Rolling Stoners – Ep. 9

This is the Beagle 2. Photograph taken in 2009 at the National Space Centre, Leicester, UK. This was a machine designed to be sent to Mars and to use the instruments on board to send data back to Earth as to the composition and makeup of the red Planet. Of course, it could be anything at all for your fiction piece, it does not have to be the Beagle 2

Rick shivered from his impromptu swim as he rode into the small village. He glanced over at Terry, subdued after the cyborg told him if he didn’t shut-up limbs would start coming off.

Gabby purred and Rick followed the direction her furred-arm pointed. A white-haired woman stood outside a hut, arms open in greeting. “Welcome, newcomers. I won’t say it’s good to see you, since you’re here by terrible accident.” She grinned. “With luck, our stay will be ending soon. Come.”

She slipped inside and Rick’s ride ambled next to the door. Rick, Terry, Gabby, the cyborg, and a knight entered to see a small disc-shaped object with a metal arm. The woman gestured at it. “This is a dimensional transporter. I’ve been working on it for years, and, with a few tweaks, we’ll be ready to go.”

A shout sounded outside and the woman excused herself. Rick smiled at Gabby, but felt sorry he wouldn’t get to know her better. The knight and cyborg chatted about the village’s defenses.

Nobody paid attention to Terry, who muttered, “Screw this. I’m outta here.” He slapped the button on the machine and a glow encompassed all the occupants and the dinosaur outside.

Word Count: 200

Sunday Photo Fiction

Sunday Photo Fiction means Rolling Stoners time (or is it the other way around?)! Regardless, every week Al posts a photo that I try to hammer into my story with all the subtlety of a rampaging elephant. This week the photo inspired ideas of another transporter device. So where will the suddenly not alone boys end up?

You’ll know right after I do, ’cause I’m winging it as I go 😀

Hope you enjoy.

Happy Reading and Writing!

J. Milburn

 

 

 

 

 

February 2, 2014

Chain Writing Game 6: The Wall – ep. 13

Episode 13

“Uh…I,” Jadir stuttered as his body reacted to Eliya. He backed up and tripped over his feet, tumbling to the ground. “I’m…flattered, but I love another woman. Her name’s Camilla.”

Eliya’s face turned quizzical, then frowned. “You think I wanted to mate with you?” She chuckled. “This is just how my people dress. There’s not much use for…coverings,” she gestured at Jadir’s clothes, “that hinder movement and catch on branches. In fact…” She pulled a blade from a thigh-sheath and strode forward. “…some of that needs to go.”

Jadir flushed, but allowed her to cut his clothes to shreds.

Chain Writing game

I’m not against romance, I swear. It just seemed like a good part to highlight cultural differences (yeah, that’s the ticket) between Jadir and Eliya with a little misunderstanding. Will love grow between the soft, citified Jadir and jungle survivor Eliya? That’s entirely up to YOU. Join in the Chain Writing Game and add your own 100-word contribution to the story. It’s unlimited entries (we go to 30 total) and you only have to wait until three others go before you post after your first.

Hope you enjoy.

Happy Reading and Writing!

J. Milburn