Category Archives: Flash Fiction

TDWC – The Doors Behind the Doors

Dan Antion at No Facilities hosts the annual Thursday Doors Writing Challenge in May. It goes from May 1 to May 31. Bloggers were invited to submit door photos for the prompts. I submitted three door photos. It was my pleasure that Dan used one of my photos as his prompt to write Uncle Otto.

 This is my first year participating in Dan’s Thursday Doors Writing Challenge. Kerf’s Zen Garden Entrance caught my eye and inspired me to write this flash fiction piece.

Zen Garden Entrance – photo prompt submitted by Kerf

“The door was there. I swear.” Jack frantically scanned left and right across the wall, unblinking. There was no trace.

He dashed toward the brilliant white wall, banging with both rigid fists. Despaired, dropping to the ground on his knees, arms raised, fingers glued to the wall, knocking with his forehead.

“Calm down. Panicking doesn’t help.” A soothing voice rippled through his head.

“Okay. I don’t have forever to find the door. Hurry.”

He inspected the area where the door appeared, traced up and down, side to side, with his fingertips inch by inch.

His left small finger came to a stop with the sensation of dipping into a dent. He carefully pressed the finger to ensure the position. Replaced the small finger with his right index finger, he tracked the invisible contour clockwise. A metal ring stopped his finger to go further. He hastened to put his fingers through the ring and yanked. The door opened slowly with resistance. He squeezed his left leg and then his body through before letting his fingers leave the ring.

The door closed behind him. It’s pitch black. The glare from the previous room played tricks on his sight. He blinked and blinked. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again.

“Come on. Show me the door. I don’t get all day.”

“Calm down. Panicking doesn’t help.” The soothing voice returned.

“Okay. I know.”

He stepped backward, cupping his head with both hands, sinking his body with his back against the wall until his bottom hit the floor.

His pupils opened slowly. He detected rainbow waves on the wall in a circular room. No sight of a door.

“Of course. Why would you make it easy for me? I’ll find you.”

Even though with no logic, he glides his ten fingers through the waves. Disappointed. His sense of compass direction told him he covered the entire circular ground.

Pressing his ear on the wall, he tapped the surface with his knuckles as he went around again slowly.

“Hollow… hollow… hollow. Wait, this sounds solid. Got to be a door.” He swept the immediate area up and down and around and felt nothing.

He tapped again to find the area between hollow and solid. Then he positioned the upper right body on the solid and thrust with all his might.

The door swung open. He dropped and flew to the other side of the room. He heard a bang.

“Sh**! My head. It hurts.”

“At least you found the door behind the door.” His inner partner justified.

“Now what? Two done, one more to go. Time is running out.”

“Calm down. Panicking doesn’t help. Remember?”

“What is this? What is the Disco Ball doing here? A dancing party?”

“Never mind. Find the last door.”

The reflections from the Disco Ball mirror spun on a wall. Jack could see a door spinning counterclockwise with colored reflections. He ran after the door. The spinning went faster and faster. He was just half a step behind from grabbing the door handle. With determination, he pushed and leaped on his right foot. He did it. His right hand is hooked onto the door handle. As soon as he touched the handle, the door dissipated into darkness. Revealed before his sight was a small rocky and low-ceiling cave.

“Clara! Clara!” His voice echoed.

“Here, Jack?”

“Where?”

“Follow the stream upward.”

“I’m coming.”

“Hurry.”

“Here I am.”

“Untie me.”

“Okay. We have 35 seconds. My watch synchs with the timer.”

“See the light? That’s the opening. Let’s run.”

“Can you run?”

“I can. Let’s go.”

“Ohh, it’s a cliff. The bomb will go off in 5 seconds. Can you jump down to the ocean?”

“We have no choice.”

“Jump away from the rock as far as possible.”

“Okay.”

~ ~ ~

“JACK, JACK.”

“What?”

“You screamed.”

“I did?”

“You fell asleep. You only got a few hours of sleep after your night shift. Thank you for coming to our yacht party for my mom’s birthday. Some guys went down to the boat and just flipped over for a dive. Do you care to join them?”

“I love you, Clara! I’ll give my life to save you.”

“What?”

“I love you so much. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

“You talk funny. I love you too. The server opened another bottle of Champaign. Let’s go celebrate.”

“Of course. To your mom and to us.”

~ ~ ~

If you are interested in joining the writing for the Third Annual Thursday Doors Writing Challenge, click the link, pick a door, and write a story, poem, novel, screenplay, musical score – anything at all. Post your writing on your blog and email your post to Dan.

TDWC – The Doors Behind the Doors

.

.

.

Meet Sue and Join The Sue Vincent Rodeo Classic

I’m happy to announce an exciting event in this blogging family. We gather around to cheer and support one of our own – Sue Vincent.

Sue is living in the south of England. She is a poet, a commissioned painter, an accomplished writer, and a director of the Silent Eye, a modern mystery School. She is a supper-supportive blogger at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo where she hosts the weekly #WritePhoto challenge and posts all the works from the participants, and writes #Midnighthaiku. She invites bloggers to guest post on her “Be My Guest.” Click any link to find more about Sue or participate in her #WritePhoto at https://scvincent.com/2021/01/28/thursday-photo-prompt-guarded-writephoto, or read her #midnighthaiku at https://scvincent.com/2021/01/29/gifts-midnighthaiku-5.

I love landscape painting and chose this as Sue’s sample paintings.

Oil on Canvas by Sue Vincent

Sue has been a caretaker of her son for 11+ years since he suffered from the traumatized attack. Besides the challenge, she was diagnosed with lung cancer. This is the time she would appreciate the support when she can’t run full speed because of the side effect and the exhaustion from the treatment, plus the impact from the Covid pandemic.

Carrot Rach has created a Rodeo Classic to orchestrate the support event. It calls for a 99-words flash fiction contest. To take part, you write a flash fiction story of 99 words or a poem of 99 syllables, using the photo prompt at Carrot Ranch to find the “Hidden” Inspiration, and enter the contest using a form on the post, then you’d be invited take part in a small donation to support Sue.

“Each story needs to have a beginning, middle and end. Poems must have distinctive theme, movement, and rhythm; no rhyme scheme is necessary, but neither will rhyme be punished…” – H.R.R.

There is a $100 grand prize and five runners up will each receive one paperback from Sue’s collection of published books (those who live in a region where the paperback is unavailable may receive an e-Book instead).

The contest will close at midnight on Friday, February 19, 2021. Winning entries will be announced and read at CarrotRanch.com/blog on March 22, 2021.

I hope you would participate and enjoy the fun!

* * *

You may find Books by Sue Vincent and those written with Stuart France available in paperback and for Kindle via Amazon.

Sue Vincent – UK – USA – France – Germany – Japan – and India.

Stuart France: UKUSFranceGermanyJapan and India

.

.

.

Fiction in a Flash Challenge Week #24 – The Odds

This is Weekly “Fiction in a Flash Challenge” Week #24. Each week Suzanne Burke will be featuring an image and inviting us to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing. Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the week #24 Image Prompt.

people-3120717_1920
Image by skalekar1992 from Pixabay

The Odds

“Christmas is around the corner. My parents are hosting the family gathering this year. My mom is sending out invitations to all our extended family. It will be 58 people if they all could come,” Margaret said.

“How often do your parents host the Christmas party?” Darin asked.

“Once every five years. My mom has four siblings married with children. My dad has one sister. They live all over the country. My grandparents live close by.”

“Most of you aunts and uncles are from the same family. It sounds cozy.”

“My mom wants you to come.”

“Of course, I’ll come. We have a small family. Just my parents, three sets of aunts and uncle, my grandparents, and me. I should spend Christmas morning with them. I’ll come in the early afternoon. Is it okay?”

“Sure, the party will be all day long.”

“I’ll be away for a few days after Christmas.”

“Where’re you going?”

“It’s a long story. Well, I have to tell you, eventually. My parents shared something with me a year ago. My dad said he couldn’t give children to my mom. He suggested having sperm donation at a fertility clinic. My mom agreed. In fact, he went with my mom for the insemination.  My dad waited for my mom’s procedure. I felt awkward that my dad is not my dad. I mean, I don’t have his genes. It doesn’t matter now. He’s my only dad. They said that having children through using donated eggs, sperm or embryos are common alternatives for couples who have infertility problem to have their biological children.”

“Oh, thank you for telling me. I got something to tell you. But tell me more.”

“My dad suggested I had a DNA test to locate the sperm donor because it was anonymous at the time of the process. Not that he wanted me to meet him, but just didn’t want to leave it as a mystery.”

“Did you do it? What did you find out?”

“I did the DNA test. Unfortunately, I found out something shocking and wished it wasn’t true.”

“What was it?”

“The DNA pointed to a doctor who used his own sperm to help around 600 women conceived. Someone started a website calling people to do DNA test to find out if this doctor was their sperm donor. The guy of the website says these 600 people were literally half-siblings. The purpose of the identification was that people who have this doctor as the sperm donor won’t end up getting married. The risk that two of the offspring may meet unknowingly and start a family of their own, which could cause serious genetic problems in their children.”

“Oh, no.”

“What’s the problem? What’s wrong?”

“My mom told me when I turned 18, that she had me from a sperm donor. She also asked me to take a DNA test to identify the donor.”

“Oh gosh, what were the odds we met?”

 “Why will you be away after Christmas?”

“Among the people responded, five of them, two men and three women, who live in the neighboring states would like to meet. After all, they are… we are half-siblings. We just want to meet and talk. Did you find out the name of the donor?”

“Yes, the last name is Vardags. He was an Oxford law student at that time, and he only made one donation. What’s the name of your donor?”

“It was Dr. Bertold Wiesner. Oh, gosh, I’m so relieved. I don’t want to call you my sister. I want you to be my wife.”

.

Fiction in a Flash Challenge Week #24 – The Odds

.

.

FICTION IN A FLASH CHALLENGE WEEK #22 – Secrets

This is Weekly “Fiction in a Flash Challenge” Week #22. Each week Suzanne Burke will be featuring an image and inviting us to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing. Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the week #22 Image Prompt.

marc-schaefer-J4bugcA2Vwg-unsplash
Photo by Marc Schaefer on Unsplash

Secrets

“Here, Liam, this is mother’s journal. Let’s collect all her personal items before the lady comes to clean the house,” Marcus said.

“I wonder what went on in mother’s mind.”

“Let’s read her last entry.”

September 17, 1969

You said you loved me. I moved in with you. I waited and waited for us to get married. You said it was love that mattered. I believed you.

We had two darling children, two cheerful and curious boys. You were proud of them. I thought you could settle down for a family and a committed life. You said it was love that mattered. I believed you.

Our boys grew into intelligent teenagers. They were outstanding students. The teacher complimented us for being responsible parents. I thought you were a proud father and family man. I mentioned about making the marriage legal. You said it was love that mattered.

I didn’t feel the love you claimed to have in our relationship. I wanted to be free from the agony, yet it’s too late. The boys needed a father for a few more years.

Our sons graduated from college. They supported themselves with scholarships and part-time jobs. We soon will have an empty nest. I asked for your commitment.

“I’m married,” you said. “It was an arranged marriage in China. The WWII separated us. I thought she was dead. I went to Hong Kong when the war was over. You and I met. It was love. Nothing confirmed her death, so I couldn’t make our relationship legal. Five years later, she went to Hong Kong and found me. It was my obligation to see her.”

You said I was your only love. I demanded your choice. You were still indecisive and said you had an obligation to her. I asked you to pack up and never come back again, and you just walked out.

I told our sons because they needed to know why their father didn’t come home.

“She told us, and it shocked me. Father seemed to be so nice to us for all those years.”

“There’s one more entry. Let’s read on.”

Words came from your wife as you passed away. So… you told her about me and your sons. I sent Liam and Marcus to the funeral service. They told me there were two children with your wife, one was seven years and the other was five years younger than Liam according to the eulogy.

Liar! Liar! Liar!

“Mother had a chest pain after this entry. We took her to the hospital and her heart shut down.”

.

Fiction in a Flash Challenge Week #22 – Secrets

.

.

Fiction In A Flash Challenge Week #21 – A Kind Soul

This is Weekly “Fiction in a Flash Challenge” Week #21. Each week Suzanne Burke will be featuring an image and inviting us to write a Flash Fiction or Non-Fiction piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of your choosing. Maximum word count: 750 words.

Here is the week #21 Image Prompt.

House, Mystical, Villa, Secret, Fantasy
Image by Peter H from Pixabay

A Kind Soul

“Cemetery is my favorite place for contemplation, reading, and writing,” Jeremy said, keeping his eyes on the road.

“It’s peaceful, for sure. You don’t have to talk to anyone unless you speak a ghostly language.” Betsy glanced at him.

“I like to walk around when I think about writing. But then I started reading the tombstones. There’re interesting stuff.”

“Yeah? I can’t think of any interesting things among the dead.”

“I read the descriptions of the deceased on the tombstones. It made me think of the lives of these people and the legacy they left behind.”

“Oh, I see. It reminds me of a meeting with the dead last week.”

“What? Did you know someone who died?”

“No, it’s just my friends. Me and six girlfriends take turns to play dead. We met at Charlotte’s basement. We lit candles around the room. The ‘dead person’ lied on a massage table in the center of the room. The rest of us were standing around, took turns to read the eulogy. After the eulogy, we went upstairs for the reception in the living room. The ‘dead person’ could reflect, comment, and ask questions.”

“Have you played dead yet?”

“No, I’m the last person. After our first meeting, it made me think of what life is all about, what my priorities are, and what I would like people to remember me.”

“It sounds like serious stuff. Oh, we’re here.”

“Exactly. Now tell me what we’re doing here?”

“Well, it’s a long story. I haven’t told you all about it because I wanted to get here as soon as I could. Anyway, I was walking around the cemetery reading the tombstones yesterday. On one of them, instead of a description, there was a web link. I copied it and did a search. Guess what I found out?”

“What? You haven’t told me yet.”

“The website has only one page and one message. It reads,

You were the first person who came to my graveside. You even stopped to read the engraving on the tombstone. I appreciated your interest and kindness. I would like you to visit my home. I have a message for you. Please find the front door key which is in the garden directly behind the fireplace in the living room. There’s a loose brick at the bottom on the right of the red brick wall. Remove the brick to retrieve the key. Enter the house and find the rug in front of the fireplace in the living room. Locate a envelop with my wishes in it. You’ll find out what to do next.

There was an address and a map. So I called you right away and asked you to come with me this afternoon.”

“Oh, wow! What an adventure. This house seems to be neglected for ages. So, we’re looking for the key.” Betsy was getting excited.

“First, we need to locate the living room to have a point of reference.”

“Let’s circle around the house and find a window with a view into the house.”

“All the windows are boarded up.” Jeremy surveyed the surrounding.

“Come here. The board on this window got a crack. See if you can make out anything.”

“Thanks, this looks like a living room. If we walk to the end of this wall and turn left, we should find the red brick wall behind the fireplace.”

“This is a big house… Okay here’s the red brick wall. Now let’s find the key.”

“There it is. Hurry to get in before dark and open some windows. There may not be light inside.”

“Look at all the oil paintings on the wall, and a grand piano in the living room. Yes, there’s a Persian rug.”

“Good, I found it. The envelop is under the rug right in front of the fireplace.”

“Open it and read the message.”

“Okay, it says,

Dear lady/gentleman,

I was an orphan and worked day and night all my life to get ahead. I had no fun, no family, or friends. You were the only kind soul who came to my graveside. My attorney is the executive of my will. He’ll distribute all of my assets except this house to a designated orphanage. This house and everything in it will be yours as my appreciation to you. My attorney is expecting you.

Respectfully,

Carlos Simpson

There’s a business card of the attorney.”

.

Fiction in a Flash Challenge Week #21 – A Kind Soul

.

.

.

« Older Entries