Tag Archives: photobotos

Flash Fiction Friday

Well, my friends, it’s Friday, so we’re going to take a moment, a break from the tedium of editing, to do a little blurb of Flash Fiction. It’s going to be a relatively short and sweet post today, as my brain is all a flurry with formatting and what have you, as well as my other projects, which is a great feeling, to just be sort of swept up by my inspiration and my excitement about getting this bloody damn book done already. So, please to enjoy, and please join in on your own interpretations inspired by the photograph! My brain is definitely In the Zone this morning, so I shall not distract it any longer!

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(Image courtesy of PhotoBotos: “Rochester Panorama” by Neil Kremer)

Though the sky was burning and a heavy black cloud hung overhead, it didn’t matter. It was cracking, that sky, and the air was crisp with scorched ozone and the wailing of useless sirens in the distance, but it didn’t matter. The water still roiled underneath the bridge, churning as it drifted away from the waterfall, and he sat there with her, their feet kicking idly over the turbulent river. The whole world was going to split into two at any moment, but the fact that she was there was all that mattered.

“So this is it,” she said. “The end of the world.”

“I expected it to be a little different.”

She was looking down into the water; he was looking up at the sky. “Different how?” she asked, lifting her eyes from her kicking feet to his face, cast in the strange orange glow that had illuminated the city.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I thought there would be more…drama. More explosions or screaming or earthquakes or something.”

Biting her lip, she looked up at those clouds, which became darker, more menacing, slowly but surely. It was as though, in the blink of an eye, it will have reached its pinnacle and then, poof, just like that, it would all be gone. No drama, no explosions or screaming or earthquakes. Just here one minute and the next…

“I kind of like it,” she said, moving her hand closer to his, and he took it.

“Me, too,” he said, squeezing lightly, and, together, they watched.

*****

I’m not sure how I feel about this one. I like it, but it seems like something I’ve done before, and it might be a little too sparse. This was a challenging photograph for me, for the most part. Perhaps you might have some better luck with it. If you do tackle it, feel free to share it here or in your own blog, because I’d love to see what everyone else comes up with.

I’d also like to take a moment to thank Coco J. Ginger for being my latest follower! Hi, Coco! Welcome aboard! Good to have you here.

Flash Fiction Friday: May 25th.

Today, I find myself vaguely astounded. One of the things that gets me is that it’s already nearly the end of May, and so soon! This year has been flying by in a whirlwind. I’m not sure if that’s just me, and I’m not sure if it’s necessarily a good thing or a bad thing, but summer is already here, practically. I slightly blame the strange weather we’ve been having. It never really felt like we had much of a spring, and part of me wonders if that’s just Illinois. It felt like this last year, as well, and I’ve been suffering through a little bit of an ‘I miss Michigan!’ phase lately. Traverse City is especially lovely this time of year…

The second thing that astonishes me is that I’m actually posting my Flash Fiction Friday on Friday. What strange event is this? I guess even I can manage to be on top of things every once in a while. Go me! I think it had a lot to do with the fact that this one is pretty short and sweet. Check it out:

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(Photo courtesy of PhotoBotos, by Steve Shuey)

All it took was one look at the crowd for Stanley to realize that he had overdressed for the event. Damn, he thought to himself. What a waste of a perfectly good tux.

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And that’s it! Now that’s what I call a flash fiction, but this is what popped into my head when I saw the picture, and that’s what I’m sticking with. Short and sweet. How will the picture inspire you? Please feel free to swipe it for your own flash fiction to share! Until next time, happy writing, space cowboys.

Flash Fiction Friday…on Saturday! May 12th.

First off, I want to start out with a few unrelated topics. Number one: Naps are awesome. I woke up yesterday morning feeling like butt and, even though I wanted to get some work done, I decided I’d sleep in a little bit, something I very rarely did. I napped for about half an hour and woke up feeling awesome. This could also be a great testament for just listening to your body, because that half hour made a huge difference, yet I still had time to do stuff. All is well! And, two, the plan to cut out coffee is a failure, too, as I’m sipping on a nice big cup of it right now. It’s the damn withdrawal headache. I have to work today, and I don’t want to go through work in the blur that I did yesterday from caffeine deprivation, with a caffeine headache on top of it. ‘m thinking of calling the experiment failed. The fact of the matter is that I love coffee, and life is too short not to enjoy the things you love, even if they’re expensive habits and you put way too much sugar in it.

I fully intended to get this post done yesterday, but time caught up with me, so we’re having another Flash Fiction Friday on Saturday. Below is a photograph from the marvelous PhotoBotos, meant to inspire a brief little flash of fiction, as well as my own contribution. Feel free to take the picture and run with it and share your work! I always love seeing what other people come up with if I get the time (which I don’t, not always, which makes me sad). But it’s always good to work our writerly muscles, and here’s my work-out for this particular prompt.

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(Image from by Scott Wood)

“There it is!” Her voice lifted as best it could over the thumping sound of the helicopter’s blade, pointing out to her companions as though they might miss the spectacle opening up below them. Though the sun was about to set on the horizon of the cloud-scattered sky, it was enough light to catch on the rushing waters, spilling over the great cliffs that towered over the sprawling jungles. She didn’t bother to register her companion’s reactions; she smiled to herself and leaned toward the window eagerly, wanting to soak it all in. “We finally made it.”

Across from her, David smiled, shaking his head faintly. “Like a kid on Christmas morning,” he said, admiration dancing in his tone, but he knew that this was big for her. This was the moment she had been dreaming of ever since they heard about the caves beyond the waterfalls, and the vast amount of knowledge held within. She had been buzzing about this project ever since it broke, and she had been deliriously happy ever since she got the news that she would be a part of it. He could only hope to push back the niggling little feeling of disappointment that he had never been able to make her feel like this himself.

No one was surprised when she was the first one out of the helicopter, bounding to the ground and hurrying forward with her pack slung over her shoulders. “Okay,” she announced, as the other followed her at a more cautious pace, “let’s set up base and be quick about it. We only have a little bit of light left, and then we’ll head into the caves. Once the sun goes down, doing anything out here would be pointless, so it’ll be forward and onward. Let’s go. Pascal, you’ve got the equipment, right?”

Ushered by her eager urging, the camp was set up at what David was sure had to have been a record speed, and she spent no time hesitating to rest afterwards. She was strapping on her gear before the last task was even completely finished. “Good job, guys,” she burbled. “Who’s going with me on the initial entry? Margot? Sean?” Her eyes danced to him, and a smile lit up her face. “David?”

She knew she didn’t have to ask; David dutifully stood up with the rest of those who hadn’t groaned at the prospect of anything other than relaxing after the long flight. He strapped on his gear, and they followed her into the caves beyond the curtain of waterfall, the pouring torrent echoing loudly in the long tunnels that disappeared into the darkness of the mountainside. Their gear lit up the black passageway as it became more narrow, steeper, more treacherous the more they descended. David put his hand to a wall to steady himself, and he could swear he felt the rocks vibrating. It unsettled him immediately.

“Maybe we should come back later,” he suggested.

“I’m going on ahead,” she said.

“Wait–” David said, but he was too late. Swift as always, she had slid through a very thin gap between two rocks, scouting ahead. This time, David was certain he felt the vibrating beneath his feet, and several heads turned toward the sound of rumbling deep and distant in the caves. He called out to her. “Come back! I don’t think it’s safe!”

David stepped forward, but a hand held him back. The whole cavern seemed to shutter before the rocks came tumbling down, filling in the gap through which she had slipped. He shouted her name, but more hands held him back. “We have to get out of here!” someone shouted, and the shaking grew, it threatened to throw them all off their feet, but David still struggled against those dragging him back toward the entrance. She was lost, they said, it was too late. They would go back when the earthquake had settled, but he had to go in there now and get her. The others overwhelmed him and the next thing he knew, there was the roar of the waterfall and more rocks were tumbling down, closing off the entrance, sealing her into the place she’d always dreamed about, and he half wondered if she had slipped away from them intentionally, with full knowledge that she might never leave again.

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There you have it! Much longer than my usual flash fictions and definitely something that could develop easily into more. How will this picture inspire you? I hope it does. Happy writing!

Flash Fiction Friday! April 27th.

Fridays here on my blog are always an opportunity not only to share pretty pictures with my readers, but also gives me the chance to hone my writing skills a little and hopefully inspire others to hone theirs in a similar fashion. Sometimes, the pieces flop. Sometimes, I’m pulling for teeth. But other times, the stories are striking, leaving an impression on those who read it despite being just a little whim of a blurb. Other times, they develop into larger, better stories, and those stories would not have existed if it weren’t for the prompt in the first place. Sometimes (and I’ll admit that today is shaping to be one of those days), I feel a little out of it, a little weary, and not quite up to the task of wordsmithing, but I’m ensuring that I’m still sitting here, butt in my chair, fingers over my keyboard, and I’m going to do this thing anyway.

It’s definitely this sort of dedication that has gotten me to where I am right now, with a book on the brink of being published and a lot more to look forward to for the rest of the year. I’m still hoping to snag one or two more beta readers, if you’re interested, but, right now, let’s get to the picture prompt, from the excellent and eclectic PhotoBotos!

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(Image courtesy of PhotoBotos, by Bread and Shutter)

He had watched her drifting, like a scarlet ghost, across the courtyard, the red of her cloak seeming impossibly bright against the darkness of the evening. Still, though her every step was marked from the moment she arrived at the gates to the second she stepped into the door of the tower, nothing could prepare him for the moment she stood in front of him. She became so much more than a graceful, gliding figure; the open cowl of her cloak revealed her face, dark and smooth, and those piercing black eyes.

“Alessandra,” he breathed her name, reaching out to take her hand in his, bending down to brush his lips against the cold skin. “Why, your hand! It is as if made of ice! Are you well?”

Her eyes fluttered in answer; before she could speak, he realized that the long line of her neck plunged down into the cloak, but the hint of chest revealed itself to be bare, and the suggestion of a shoulder seemed to be uncovered as well. His breath left him; he had to fight to keep down a gasp. “My lady,” he said, eyes wide with shock and titillation, “do not tell me that you wear nothing under your cloak.”

Her eyes were dancing now, her lower lip caught coquettishly under her teeth. “I shall not tell you,” she vowed, though the promise continued on in a way that made him shudder with excitement, “what I can just as easily show you.”

There was the gentle rustling whisper of the cloth as it slid away from her shoulders; the cloak slide away from the dark form of Alessandra’s body, gathering at her feet like a cloud, and she stepped forward, stepping out of it as if she had just shed her skin for a new one, and her hand pressed against his chest, over his quickening heart. He opened his mouth to speak to her, to fumble an objection or remind her of the danger in her actions, but she silenced him with her long, delicate finger, and then a long, sensuous kiss.

He saw clouds of red as they tumbled backwards, and he knew everything would be a beautiful, exhilarating blur from there, until she would slip out against, gliding like a ghost, across the courtyard, when the red of her cloak would seem to bleed into the sky of another new morning.

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Alright! Your turn! What great words can you create to go along with this gorgeous photograph? I look forward to seeing what you might have to offer!

Flash Fiction Friday: April 20th!

And, lo and behold, I force myself to take a break from all the fun of prepping my manuscript for beta readers to bring to you another Flash Fiction Friday! I’m hoping that today, in general, is a good day for work. I have the day off from the paying job, and a brief peek at next week shows a really odd schedule. Instead of my usual days off, I’m working a different set of days. I’m not sure if this is going to be my new “regular hours” for a few weeks (as is often the case with these schedule changes), but I do know it’s going to throw me off my game a little. Here’s to hoping for a great, productive day today so that when I’m all out of sync next week, I’m still on my own two feet.

Ahhh, to be a creature of habit in an unpredictable world.

No matter. Let’s get to the flash fiction! The idea of this prompt is simple and like most flash fiction prompts out there. I’m going to post a picture and, if you feel so inclined or inspired, write up a little blurb inspired by the picture. Who knows where it might go? My current Featured Story came from a prompt like this. Feel free to share it on your own blog or on this blog. I never get around to reading half the prompts that get posts, but I know I’ll certainly try to. Below, you’ll find my own contribution. Let’s go!

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(Image courtesy of PhotoBotos by Aaron Nance)

They had tied the boy down, but it was no use. Despite the tightness of his bonds, he writhed and pitched against them in the throes of his fever, crying out into the night. That such a sound could come from such a small body! It caused the other passengers on the ship to huddle together, lifting their shoulders as if to protect them against the wails as they rattled their spines and disturbed their sensibilities. They grew wary of anyone showing even the slightest sign of sickness, wanting it to be just the boy, no one else, infected and possessed with this strange demon. They avoided the room in the corner cabin, where, shirtless and sweating, the boy would pitch and jerk, straining against the ropes while his voice lifted in such haunting shouts that the others whispered that they should do him a kindness and put him down like a poor dog.

“It’s because of the women, mum.” The young girl, whose name was Caroline, clutched her mother’s hand and looked up at her with wide, frightened blue eyes. They were on the deck far away from the corner cabin with the sick boy inside, though the wind seemed to carry his howls as easily as if they were feathers or leaves. “That’s why he’s screaming; the women are coming for his voice.”

“Women?” The young girl’s mother, whose name was Elizabeth, frowned at her daughter and had to force down a shudder, from fear, from distress, from the cold ocean spray pushing up against the railing and seeping into their clothes. “What women?”

“The wailing women,” Caroline stated, shrinking back against her mother’s skirts. “We’ve all seen them, all of us. Four of them; they’re so beautiful, mum, but the noise that they make! They wail and scream and clutch at their clothes, and they look like they’ve lost something. I saw them go into his room, too, mum, I think they found what they were looking for.”

She had fastened herself to her mother’s hand, turning her face against her skirt. “I’m just glad it wasn’t me,” Caroline murmured into the stiff, colorful cloth.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to chastise young Caroline, to tell her that she was making up stories and that no such women existed, but, just as she did, the wind around them seemed to stop, and the faint screams in the distance ceased, replaced with a startling, uncomfortable silence. The wind eventually picked up, but not before everyone aboard realized that the young boy had died, and, all around the ship, the children clung to their mothers, knowing that the wailing women would not yet be satisfied.

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Once again, I feel my flash fictions never do justice to the larger story lurking underneath. But there you have my submission, a little creepy, and that’s a little good. What have you got in store for this gorgeous and curious picture? I’d love to see it!

Flash Fiction Friday! April 6th.

It’s Friday morning, the sun is pouring through the windows into my little kitchen workspace, and it’s definitely time for another Flash Fiction Friday. Just a little bit of a photo prompt to get the brain working and the inspiration pumping to see what you might come up with. Or what I may come up with. Flash fiction is great because sometimes, you have the opportunity to create something really profound in the space of a few words. Or (as is more often the case with the novelist me) what might start out as a little blurb to meet the prompt ends up building into something else, bigger and better. I never have any lack of ideas for what to write about, but I definitely get a lot of new ideas from prompts and that’s what I love about them.

Sometimes, some prompts are harder than others, but that only makes it more interesting when you really have to challenge yourself to come up with something even though you’re not feeling entirely inspired. My brain’s not really in a flash fiction mindset, but that’s all the more reason to push through and see what comes out.

So, here was are, a picture from PhotoBotos to jog the inspiration! Go ahead and use the prompt for yourself if you’d like, share it here or on your own blog or however, and see what you can come up with! Below is my own contribution. Enjoy! And happy writing!

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(“Rainbows and Dust” by Marc Hermann courtesy of PhotoBotos)

Kanoa let out a shrill shriek, a scream of surprise as her sister let up on the pedals and allowed the bicycle to coast down the slope of the path. The shout soon shifted into a giggle, bubbling out of her at the pure joy of the free-falling feeling, the wind in her hair, but the comforting strength of her sister behind her. She closed her eyes and held onto the moment. Before she knew it, it would be over, the world around her would resume, but in these fleeting seconds, it was just her, the wind, and her sister, wrapping around her like a protective blanket. They were flying, the sun dappled on their skin and the rustle of the trees above them, and they were free.

Eventually, though, the bike started to lose its momentum, and Manaka had to put her feet down again to start pedaling, the work and effort radiating off of her in her shifting body to jostle Kanoa, making her slightly uncomfortable where she sat. She sighed, opening her eyes and seeing the ramshackle buildings of the village waiting for them at the bottom of the gentle slope, heard the sounds of spitting automobiles and clanging tools, started to feel the sweat and the heat of so many bodies in so much sun. Manaka turned the corner sharply, calling out to people who shouted greetings at them, and Kanoa closed her eyes again. She wished she could keep them closed until tomorrow, when she and her sister would ride up the hill again to gather the herbs and the branches and, for a brief moment in time, they would ride back down the hill and she could fly again.

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I had a feeling this might tie into a story I wrote for Morgan Dragonwillow’s contest a little while back! Kanoa and her sister Manaka showed up in a story that I felt would be surfacing a lot more; it’ll be interesting to see if these girls show up elsewhere and build themselves into something more!

So, what have you got for the prompt? Let’s see it!

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