FELIPE'S TROUPE

 

FELIPE’S TROUPE

Total darkness in the Big Top – the audience holds its breath, hearts throbbing in time to a syncopated drum-beat.

 A single spotlight ignites a man dancing in a kaleidoscope of red and gold, a second figure leaps into weightless flight onto his shoulders, then a third flies through the air to land like a feather on the flaming tower. The semblance to fire is so vivid the Big Top appears to burn.

 Then the topmost figure somersaults once, twice and off, the stack tumbles and disintegrates gracefully, all three figures bow and the clowns come in.

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I hope you can see these acrobats as clearly as I can see them? Thanks to J Hardy Carrroll for the image and to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog.  https://rochellewisoff.com/

I am excited this week to announce that the fourth and last book in my LIVING ROCK series is now available on Amazon. ROCK FESTIVAL, in paperback or ebook format. Follow the link to get your copy.

ROCK FESTIVAL: a LIVING ROCK BOOK: Amazon.co.uk: YOUNG, LIZ: 9798677548314: Books

MY GRANDPARENTS' HOUSE

 

MY GRANDPARENTS’ HOUSE

I have no conscious memory of the house in Victor Harbour where my grandparents lived. Mum tells stories of her brothers sleeping on the veranda, and of me crawling out of the garden one afternoon and being found, after a frantic search, eating fallen kumquats next door.

 But after forty years in England I flew back, and as the perfume of eucalyptus assailed my senses at Adelaide airport, I recognised the land of my birth.

And that house, with its cool inner hall and gingerbread-trimmed veranda, seemed familiar – or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

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This week's image is so reminiscent of the house where my mother grew up that I couldn't write fiction - this piece is 100% autobiographical.

Thanks to Ted Strutz for the memory, and to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog. Welcome home, Rochelle - I hope your holiday was restful. X

CARVED HEART - A STORY IN 100 WORDS

 

 CARVED HEART

At preschool, Sam and Josie shared paint-pots and finished each other’s pictures. They weathered the storms of senior school together, and at fourteen pledged eternal love, carving SJ inside a heart on a tree.

Then Josie went to university, promising, “I’ll be back.”

“But you’ll be different,” said Sam, sadly.

Josie became Josephine, MD of a successful company, her photo in the papers, while Sam built houses with his Dad.

Eventually Josie returned. “I should have stayed – we belong together.”

Sam showed her their carved heart, the initials divided by time. “Not any more, Josie – we’ve grown apart.”

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Here we go again with another Friday Fictioneers' image that prompted a 100 word story. I still haven't mastered Blogger's new format - why DO these site insist on changing thigs? - but my thanks still go to Rochelle for hosting us from her seaside holiday spot.

BOYS WILL BE BOYS - a story in 100 words

BOYS WILL BE BOYS

It began with boys climbing the fence and diving into windowless rooms, rat-a-tat-tatting imaginary guns at unseen enemies. Later they sneaked in to smoke, swigging from bottles purloined from parental cupboards. ‘Boys will be boys,’ people said indulgently.

Then Craig hit town, all motorbike, money and black leather. The rampant bougainvillea now hid darker secrets, and an atmosphere of danger seeped from the crumbling plaster along with the smell of pot.

‘The police should have stopped it,’ people said when it was too late – after a local boy was found with a needle dangling from his arm.

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Rochelle is on holiday yet she still remembered to leave us with a photo prompt onher blog  https://rochellewisoff.com/  Thanks to Randy Mazie for the photo. One of these days I will work out how NOT to slip into a smaller font after copying Rochelle's blog title! The only alternative I can find is this which is the next size up on my toolbar! Or I could go really large, but that would be ridiculous.

Pleae leave a comment before you go :)

VISITING MABEL - a story in a hundred words

VISITING MABEL

“You’ve got a visitor, Nan,” Sandra said brightly.

“That’s nice, dear. The kettle’s boiling, I’ll make tea.”

Aileen looked around. A cushion-filled armchair, an iron warming on the antique range, a chenille cloth hiding the table-legs. Sixty years out of date, certainly, but nothing to suggest the old lady was losing the plot.

Mabel put a cup by Aileen’s elbow and offered a tin of biscuits.

“Don’t take the Bourbons – I’m saving those for Gerald.”

She touched the sepia photograph that held pride of place on the mantelpiece.

“His letter from the front last week said he’d be home soon.”

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People have different ways of coping with grief - who's to say Mabel's way is wrong? Dementia also manifests itself in many different ways, and losing forty years is possibly one of the easiest for the sufferer.

Thanks to Rochelle -  https://rochellewisoff.com/ - for hosting Friday Fictioneers every week, even when she's off on a jaunt, and to Valerie J Barrett for the atmospheric photograph.

SHUTTERS - a story in exactly one hundred words

SHUTTERS

All visitors see are the bright paintwork, the pots of cheerful geraniums leading up to the front door. Nobody notices the shutters down here, the shrubs blocking the steps in case anyone becomes curious.

Two years I have spent here – I mark the days on the wall behind the sofa, hidden from sight.

They tell everyone I died and left them the house. She wants to make it true, but my pathetic son hasn’t the stomach for it.

She will try one day soon. She imagines I am helpless, but even a wooden spoon can be sharpened to a point.

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Thanks as always to https://rochellewisoff.com/  for hosting our weekly jaunt into a flash fiction fantasy world. Follow the link from Rochelle's blog to read scores of other stories, all prompted by Ceayr's photo of a house that doesn't have the dark story I have attributed to it - or maybe it does?

WHEN MATT AND TRACEY WERE MARRIED

WHEN MATT AND TRACEY WERE MARRIED

Matt and Tracey’s wedding was perfect.

Her Dad mellowed from ‘Don’t bring that hippie round my house’ to ‘He’s a son-in-law to be proud of’.

His mother, who had threatened not to come, was splendid in pink with a huge hat.

His brother’s speech managed – just – not to offend Grandma, the cake was delicious, and her sister caught the bouquet.

They jetted off to the Maldives in a daze of happiness.

The glow lasted till the third day. The islands were so low in the fabulous azure sea that the only way Matt could get a signal was by climbing a tree.

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I wrote today's story in ten minutes, and it came in at exactly 100 words, so I hope it passes muster! 

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting our group of writers and to Susan Eames for the photograph - I am sure a mobile signal was the last thing on her mind when she took it! Sorry, Susan :(

BLINDFOLD - a story in a hundred words

BLINDFOLD

Nobody wanted to play Cousin Gary’s stupid game, but as we hadn’t seen him for years we let him persuade us.

I should have stopped it when he held Susie a second too long while guiding her hand to pin the tail on the donkey, but I told myself not to be paranoid.

Then it was my turn. Blindfolded, I heard scuffling and a smothered gasp, but even then I didn’t guess, and finished my go before I removed Gary’s woollen scarf.

The expression on Susie’s face will haunt me to the grave.

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I am late on parade this week, due mostly to the lovely weather which has taken me out into the garden instead of sitting at my computer. Having inherited a neglected garden last summer, there is a lot to do. Protecting my spinach from the depradations of pigeons was this week's prioiry!

BIKER CAT - one hundred words for Friday Fictioneers

BIKER CAT

Fernando always parked his bike beside his house, out of sight of potential thieves. The engine-warmed seat was Morena’s favourite place, but she usually jumped off when Fernando rattled his keys.

Not that day. She refused to budge, even digging her claws into the leather when he tried to push her off. He laughed indulgently. “All right, five more minutes while I fetch my football kit.”

He returned with his kit bag just in time to see emergency vehicles race past towards the motorway. If he’d left two minutes earlier he’d have been in that pile-up.

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I'm a firm believer in animal's ESP instincts - are you?

Either way, I hope you enjoy my story - please leave a comment if you can before you go to read other stories via https://rochellewisoff.com/  Thanks to CEAyr for the photograph - which reminded me of Tenerife where I lived for 15 years. I am due to return there this month for a short visit to catch up with old friends - and to celebrate a birthday. I am much too old to have them but hey! who cares?

GILDING THE LILY - a 100 word story

GILDING THE LILY

Lucy’s father took her out for a pizza on her birthday and spoiled her, as usual. A computer game she’s been on about for weeks, a cashmere jumper that will need hand-washing, and a box of make-up.

Lucy saw my expression. “Mum! I am ten now, you know.”

“We discussed this already, darling – no make-up till you’re a teenager.”

“It’s not fair – everyone else wears it.”

“None of your friends do.”

She smiled reluctantly, knowing she’d lost. “Okay – I’ll swap it – Boots have some really cool sunglasses.”

It seems only yesterday she was in nappies.

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Exquisite though these are, I prefer roses au naturel, hence my story today.

Thanks to Rochelle for the photograph and for hosting Friday Fictioneers. To read how other writers interpreted the prompt, go to  https://rochellewisoff.com/  and follow the Blue Frog trail.

SIREN CALL - a story in 100 words for Friday Fictioneers

SIREN CALL

Drawn irresistibly by her siren call, he scaled the wall with limbs born on a mountainside, clawed digits digging into the cracks like crampons.

For years he had ached to hear a female voice. Gaining the ledge, he began to dance, bobbing his head, inflating his purple throat, putting his all into the courtship display.

She didn’t respond, merely repeating her mating call over and over until dusk, when she fell silent. Night was a dangerous time to be out in this alien place – he slunk away.

Inside the apartment, having switched off the air-conditioning unit, the humans slept.

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This week's photo prompt comes from J Hardy Carroll via Rochelle's blog  https://rochellewisoff.com/  where she has hosted Friday Fictioneers for at least the four years I have been writing Flash Fiction.

Thrilled this week to have sold another copy of my latest book Wolf Pack - 

I hope whoever bought it enjoys it and spreads the word!

If you like my flash fiction you might like to obtain your own copy, in print or ebook. It couldn't be easier - simply click on the cover image on this page which will take you to Amazon. And thanks.

Oh yes - and Happy Valentine's Day, whether you receive roses and champagne, just a card, or simply bask in other people's glow!

THE CAR IN THE WOODS - flash fiction

THE CAR IN THE WOODS

“Don’t touch anything!” Becky’s voice was sharp and Chris shot her a withering look. “I’m only making sure there’s no body inside.” Sighing, he put his hands in his pockets before peering through the side window.

Meanwhile Becky walked slowly round the clearing. When she’d made a full circuit she called shakily, “Chris – we should go – now!”

“Why? What’s got you all of a dither?”

“Whoever was driving this car took the engine with them – and there’s only one set of footprints.”

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The above story was written to the prompt of a photo by Ted Strutz for Friday Fictioneers, ably hosted by  https://rochellewisoff.com/  After you've left a comment on my blog (please!) follow the Blue Frog link from Rochelle's blog to read other short stories each week.

I may not get round to you all this weekend, as it's my daughter's 50th birthday and her big sister arrived unexpectedly from Ireland to help us celebrate. Therefore I am one happy and distracted-from-writing Mum!