Today’s Friday Fiction was inspired by the folks over at Flash! Friday. Enjoy! And please feel free to share your thoughts.
Rose licked the berry juice from her hands.
They were especially plump and juicy. The reddish purple juice would flood from some of them so quickly she barely had time to catch it before it streamed down her arm and stained her white shirt sleeve.
Rose wondered if the stories were true. If you eat the berries you would die. She quickly popped one in her mouth and discovered it was the most sinfully delicious thing she had ever eaten.
She heard a boom in the distance and suddenly her white tunic and pants were covered in crimson red. Her bare feet began to feel warm. Looking at her feet she discovered she was standing in a reddish purple puddle.
Where was this coming from? No one else was around. She felt a warm steam down her leg. At that moment she realized the puddle was her own blood. She fell to the ground and smiled.
“Deadly delicious,” she said.
Today’s Friday Fiction is a Flash! Friday prompt.
The Sea Horse. Photo and sculpture by Jeffro Uitto; used by permission.
This is all Jess has left of her husband, father, and brother, her boys as she called them.
They worked on the sculpture of her favorite childhood horse for nearly a year. Her father would inevitably find something wrong with it. And in the beginning Alex, Jess’s husband, never saw the problem.
“It’s gotta be perfect,” Continue reading
This weeks Friday Fiction is brought to you by the photo prompt below and Flash! Friday. Enjoy! and have a great weekend.
She lay cying in a fetal positing in the bike tunnel. Asking why. Begging him to stay. Telling him she needed him. They needed him.
Jacob knelt down and gave her one last hug and kiss and whispered. “No. You don’t need me anymore. You’ll soon realize that.” He looked her in the eyes and smiled, “And besides, if I remember correctly, you told me yesterday you couldn’t wait til I was gone.”
As he stood he told her, “I came to do what needed to be done. It’s done and I have to go now.”
She jumped up and threw her arms around him, “But . . .”
Jacob helped her steady herself on her bicycle. Once she reached the tunnel entrance she turned and waved. “We’ll miss you.”
Straightening the basket and smoothing the streamers she played the tune he taught her on the bicycle bell, and with each chord the memory of Jacob faded.
Word Count: 154