Secluded Beach

Photo Credit :​Footy and Foodie

‘This doesn’t seem secluded.” Bridget’s eyes see a lot full of cars. 

“Maybe the beach is bigger than we think.” Bill can’t believe the hour drive ends here.”Let’s go look at the ocean and those stars. Brighter than any where on the coast!”

“Yeah, that’s what a website said. Isolated too. Let’s get it over with.” Brigdet uses her total waste of time voice.

The edge of the parking lot leads to a trail that snakes down a sheer cliff. The Sun plunges into red waves below.  Soft lights illuminates the way.  The surf calls out and draws like a magnet. A soft breeze sings in a low voice.

About halfway down Bill reaches to touch Bridget’s right arm. “Down there.  See the candles. There’s got to be fifty people in that circle.” 

“Bill, we are out of here! I don’t want to know and don’t want them seeing us either.” Bridget stops in her tracks.

“Too late.” Bill points out the circle changing shape.

Written as part of a challenge calledflash fiction for aspiring writers, details available at

Geoffrey’s Rounds

Geoffrey watches the morning light turn to harsh noon.  The shadows fade away fron the stately halls.  Tapestries with rich colors retreat to washed out halls.  Distance voices race down halls. The tours are starting again.

His pale face and hollow eyes dim.  The children bring a challenge to his type.  The adults look past him and sometimes walk through him.  Time changes things for the living.  Today will be tomorrow for Geoffrey again.

“Hey, I think I see a ghost!” a high-pitched voice rises above the crowd.

Geoffrey waves and smiles. The adults never understand the kids reaction of wonder and fright.

Written as part of a challenge called flash fiction for aspiring writers . Details are available at

Thank you MajesticGoldenRose for our photo prompt this week!

Postcard – FFAW

I stand at the roadside. 

The sea slides so softly against the sand.  Bisbee Bay, a mecca of gentle summer days that last forever.  Whose touch on the memory vanish like morning dew. 

I state into a postcard.

Gone are the floats of plastic trash.  No Styrofoam cups or grocery bags. The place is smaller now.  My eyes aren’t the same.  The smell is different.  The people aren’t families.  Their faces carry weight of misery.
I get back in my car. Going back is not always a good idea.

Written as part ofa challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writersttps://

Tea for Two

“I don’t get it?! She up in left.” Marty’s hand shakes the phone. “We just got here. i took her to Reading the Tea Leaves, just like you said. Seriously, Darla what kind of freak did you set me up with?”

The phone starts quiet for too long.  

“Ok, she loves the place.  What else happened? She goes there every week. What did you say?  or do?” Darla half asks 

“We ordered and say down.   I put down the little table flag with 19 on it….” Marty doesn’t get to finish.

“Nonadecaphobia. I should have told you. Sorry, she doesn’t do well with signs.   You know how it is.” Darla explains. 

“No. No, I don’t.” Marty hangs up

The Village

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yarnspinner. Thank you Yarnspinner!

Below me the village spreads out.  I have a name but I’d prefer to make our meeting a surprise to him.   Business decision. My pack can only hold so many things that protect but remain unseen.  

The mountain ridge forms a spine.  It builds a beast is called isolation.  I couldn’t be any stranger to them down there. The advantage is noone knows why I’m passing through.   The old farmers some talk at me anyway.  And they are all that seems to live there. 

Their clan may decrease by one.  I reach back to the lower left pocket.   A six inch blade, pummel waiting for that firm handshake.  One’s man riches balance on that knife tip.  I have my opinion of whose riches should come out on top. 

Written as a part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Details available at

FFAW- Calf Training

“Bessie has been here for three weeks. She can read quite get passed the Roadside test. Any ideas?” Cory pulls down the bill of his ball cap.  His gaze locked on his baby that won’t leave. 

“Ok.  We get the tractor over here.  I’ll put some straw on the front of it.  I’ll go really close so she sees the straw.  And she will follow me with her head.” Craig gets all bright eyed.  His hands take flight as he shows the tractor and the cow moving.

“That’s the stupidest idea ever…..” Cory snaps his head sideways toward his friend. “But everything else failed.”

Cory stands cross armed watching. An old tractor grumbles.  Bessie looks at the noise.  As it gets closer, she moves toward the fence.  The tractor stats about 12 feet away.   Bessie turns her head to watch it go by.

“Go back and do that again! You got her to do it.”  Cory yells at Craig.

Craig takes a big swing around.  Her head follows.  Her drives by again.

Bessie has learned to watch traffic.

Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers for details,

Daisy May 

Virgil slowly lifts his head of the bed.   His tiny bedroom shrinks with grandchildren wedged in too. His breath whistles as hev looks over the lot from 6 to 24 in age.   His eyes barely make out the faces. They search for something else. 

“I need to see Daisy May.  Damn it!  Can’t one of ya doing something but watch me die…”  His head goes back down and his blank eyes close. 

“Mama? Grandma’s name wasn’t Daisy May.. Who’s talking about?”  Susie the littlest one turns her does eyes to a frazzled forty something. 

“That’s his damn old truck.   He spent more time with it than all us kids put together.” Lana dots her eyes with tissue.  Her left hand rubs Susie’s head. “He’s just mean in someways.  Old people get that way.  They hurt.”

” Damn it Lana! I bought her with a dollar an hour wages.  Drive her so you kids….” Virgil flops up like a horror movie prop. His breathing changes to a ballon losing air.  “Just want… to see her…”

“Open the drawer.   Let him look at his old truck again…..  It’s right there in night stand.”  Lana darts her finger in the direction. 

The eyes never open again. 
Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers for details,

What’s in the Bag

“I want to sit under the dragon lamp!” Josie coos and grabs David’s right arm. She quickly releases and shoots ahead.

“Be right there!” David watches her go.  Eyes fixed on her as she glides.

Josie slides across the red leather booth.  Rocking to a stop. “I’m thinking Wor Su Gia! Oh, some of those shrimp chips… and..”

“You know I’m getting Pepper Steak..” David’s voice falters.  A note falls from the menu. 

Brown bag in trash of Restroom.  Get rid of it IMMEDIATELY 

“How come I don’t get a secret message?” Her voice seems really loud.
“Honey, it’s a joke.  Can’t be real.” David is really nervous. What kind of person leaves this kind of note. 

He swallows hard.  Murders, killers, bank robbers.. Yes, bank robbers leave notes.  His heart races.  Thousands of dollars in  a bag, just wanting…

David gets up quickly.  “I’ll be right back”

Elisa sits at the cash register.  He watches him run.   “Mom, I got another one!”

First Cut

Frank fires up his new 18″ Duramax Timberwolf chain saw.  

His friends all clap as his revs it.  Blue smoke puffs from the tiny engine.  It rumbles like a hoarse bumblebee, followed by a,whine of mad mosquitoes. 

The Norwegian Spruce caresses the apartment.  The wind blows every tree but this one.   A victim of poor planning.   The 20 year run creeps to an end.

Mike ties a rope to the trunk of the tree. 

Frank jumps at the tree.   Sawdust clouds kick up.  An erie crack fills the air. 

“Oh shit…” Frank loses his voice

A flash of green later, new loses his Camaro.   Green blob sprays glass bits.  A cherry red carpet becomes a landing pad. 
Bobby and Mickey get ready to move the Bobcat closer.

Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, details are available at,

Not So Pleasant Surprise

“I have a surprise for you.”  Derrick looks across the tiny wooden table crammed into their studio.  ” Pack a bag.  I’m taking you fit a quick three day trip.”

“Uh, what do you mean,  a quick the day trip? Where?” Sylvia’s face is all about excited at the thought. “It’s not that easy for me.   Do I need a heavy coat?  Is there dancing and a dinner at a really nice place involved?  Am I supposed to pack jeans and a tshirt?   You can’t expect me to just drop everything without sobe idea of what I’m doing.”

Derrick drops his coffee back to the table.   His mind knows why he didn’t do this very often.  

“It’s a cruise.   Nothing fancy.   One Captain’s dinner.   A day shipping on a city by the docks.  Picturesque bazaar toe thing,  I think.   Anyway,  I wanted to do something special.   So,  get ready.   We leave in a couple hours,  ok? ” He smiles. 

“Hours?  Are you kidding me?!  You know I needed new heels for the black dress.  They got wet on your last great idea. Suede didn’t come from ducks….. It better be a nice boat.” Sylvia keeps her half angry face as she gets up from the table.

“You’ll like it.   It’s a smaller boat.   We stay in a nice place.  Look at the picture on the brochure!”  He slowly realizes his words aren’t being heard. 
Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, details are available at