Flash Fiction – Shadows

old-shoes-cobwebs

PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter


 

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple hosts the flash fiction challenge called

Friday Fictioneers!

Take the challenge to write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words using the weekly picture prompt.


 

“Dad! Where are you?” I call through the house.

Simultaneously feeling chilled, by a draught even though the window is shut.

I’m motionless, caught in stride. Not believing the image I see.

A shadow of an old man.

My chest tight, my breath visible in the summer heat.

Tightness wrapping around my body and squeezing the air out my lungs.

But no one is there.

Just a darkness.

“There you are! Look, Claire! Found at the building site! I bet they hold some history!” Dad stands in front of me looking at his feet.

Walking in a dead man’s shoes!

 

Genre – Horror (100 words)

Everyday Inspiration Day 1: I Write Because …

image

 

In the late evening when everyone is in bed, I can switch off my mind to the everyday routine and open my mind to writing and inspirations…

I can open my heart to an open book, with blank pages waiting to be filled. I can express more freely and get out onto the white crisp paper the thoughts that cloud my mind.

I can unload the images of doubt and procrastination and fill the page with the inspiration that is fighting to get out in the open and wait to be read.

The words from a story that my lips have not spoken but stay sealed within my clouded mind. They tell a story unbeknown to friends and family.

The secrets kept within are freed and tension is released with each word as it falls through ink onto paper. Thoughts and secrets are told to people that I do not know because secrets told to people close to me would not want to be heard.

It is a waterfall of emotion, a glass full of liquid tales waiting to be poured. A new way to release the tension built within my soul.

As the words tumble from the mind, a new profound belief is born. I am worthy of being listened to. I can tell a tale of hope and dreams. I may be good at the pen to the paper task of writing and it may become a craft I can perform, create, evolve and succeed.

In time the words will be read and understood and the weight will be lifted … Time will be the book of truth and will be everlasting until earth befalls death and no longer lives on.