The Eccentricities Of Romance – Fiction

Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  So grateful to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yinglan. Thank you Yinglan!

Please follow lil froggy for more stories:)

Here is the photograph and my part fiction/part memoir story:

The Eccentricities Of Romance

Nobody in my family ever really knew Ivy.  One day out of no where Dad,  a widower for seven years, announced he was going to marry some woman he’d met on the internet.  That just didn’t sit well with us.  The internet part.  The sudden part.

Nobody in my family ever really knew Ivy.  And then one day,  decades later,   Dad had died and Ivy had reached a critical point in her ability to care for herself.  We moved her into a care facility.

“I’ve always wondered what attracted you to Dad,”  I said during one of our last visits.

“Those model airplanes he had hanging from the ceiling of his library.  Remember those?” Ivy squeezed my hand.  “I just thought that was the most romantic thing I’d ever seen.”

I shook my head and smiled.  They had always been such an odd pair.  The engineer and the poet.  “You two.”

“I know,”  she agreed.  Her smile lit the space between us.

Nobody in my family ever really knew Ivy,  and that was the shame of it all.

Ellespeth

 

Gone Girl – Book Review (up to page 19)

I’m a mystery reader.  Started way back in my Nancy Drew days.  For some reason, I made a conscious decision not to read Gone Girl.  It seemed every book I’ve wanted to read, for the past few years, has been compared to Gone Girl.  Today, after reading that comparison yet once again, I’ve downloaded the damned book to my Kindle.

I’m on page 19.  We sit down to supper and discuss our day.  I’m telling you about the book and how I hate the sister’s nickname ‘Go’ – for Margo:

You:   Go is the present and gone is the past participle.

Me:   You have told me who the killer is!

You:   No I haven’t! I only commented on the grammar between the sister’s name and the title, and you inferred that she was the killer.

Me:   I did not, you did.

You:   I haven’t read the book.

Me:   I’m just on page 19 and you’ve already told me who the killer is.

Fini

He could be wrong, so I’ll keep reading the book.

Ellespeth 

As I Watched Him – Flash Fiction

Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  So grateful to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Enisa…thanks for it.

Please follow lil froggy for more stories:)

Here is the photograph and my story:

As I Watched Him

Everything had happened so quickly for us. Not a planned out courtship but a fast and feverish one, fired with the hope of victory and freedom.

One morning I looked out our apartment window and watched him walking to work. I glanced at my high tech watch.  Same time every morning.  He was carrying the duffel bag he brought with him each day.  The one I’d packed with so many of his lunches.

I watched him;  remembering the conversation I’d had with a few  members of our covert group last night. The meeting had been hastily convened.  I watched him and cried.

Once it had been discovered he was against us and using me, I had no other choice but to kill him.

Ellespeth

w/c 123