Patent Pending – Flash Fiction

Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.   Thank you, PJ, for sponsoring this and for all of your hard work on our behalf.  Please follow lil froggy for more stories.

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yinglan. Thank you Yinglan!  (I’ve used part of your name in my story Lan)

Patent Pending – A Love Story

“I think I’ve got it!” Heng exclaimed. He took his wife’s arm and led her into his workshop.

Lan, his wife, had been through this many times before. Heng’s inventions. She smiled and let him lead her.

There she saw a milk carton with an antennae sticking out of it. “What is this, Heng?” she asked.

“The Moo-zic!” Heng replied. He flicked a switch on the side of the carton.

Ellespeth

(w/c 75)

Evident Is Relevant – A Story Poem

Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yarnspinnerr. Thank you Yarnspinnerr!Please click lil froggy for other stories.

Here is the photo and my entry:

Evident Is Relevant

The moment was buttery
like a croissant
electric
like a java jolt
and the air
thick all around the table between us.

The setting was white
like a barista’s heart
drawn bright
and feathered upon
the stillness.

Let’s not dwell on this.
How hard it was to lose you.

I should have seen
the no entry signs
before you left.

Another moment
slipped away
between words I wouldn’t hear.

Ellespeth

w/c 76

The Yarnspinners – A Love Poem

Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.    Thanks to PJ for hosting our gathering and to Yarnspinner for our photograph.    Please click lil froggy for other stories.

Here is the photo and my entry for this week.  It came as a poem again…

The Yarnspinners

I look back on it all as though that life
stitched together
by the frailest of yarns
meant something in the long run

the safest I ever felt
was in your arms
nestled deep under the downy comforts
just before sleep
when you told me stories
about love winning

where kisses
and hugs
surrounded our lives.

Ellespeth

Thoughts At A Fountain – 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 wildverbs. Thank you wildverbs!

Please  follow lil  froggy for more stories:)

Thoughts At A Fountain

I’m so lost without you. So lost, even, that last night I walked a long while until there was the fountain.

That place where you first kissed me. Where we held hands. Where each water’s drop mixed into a melody of hope and we’d wished upon the reflections of late night stars.

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” you said that long ago summer. You leaned over and kissed my cheek. We held close to each other.

And it all came true.

Except,

now you’ve gone and died on me. How could you go so far off our plan like that?

Ellespeth

How Not To Crochet The Drop Stitch – 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 Yarnspinnerr. Thank you Yarnspinnerr!

Please  follow lil  froggy for more stories:)

How Not To Crochet The Drop Stitch

I stood with my brother at the airport’s security gate. His dark brown eyes were locked onto my own. My flight would be loading soon. A very few moments loomed before us.

“I got here as soon as I received your text,” my brother said. “Thank God you are still here!” He embraced me.

“Even I don’t have wings,” I replied. “Must wait, as others, for flight.”

“We don’t know this man you are flying to be with,” said my brother.

“He doesn’t know you either.”

My brother shook his head. He seemed sad. “I’ve just always had this image of you writing poetry and crocheting christening gowns.”

“But I don’t know how to crochet!” I drew my eyes into thin lines and stared my brother down.

“That’s not the point,” he said.

“Oh. Okay. I don’t want to learn how to crochet.”

“You’ll be sorry for this!” my brother shouted as I made my way to the ticket counter.

“But I don’t want to learn how to crochet!” I called back to him.

Ellespeth

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

Quonset Under the Kumquat – 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 yarnspinner…thanks for it.

Please follow lil froggy for more stories:)

Here is the photograph and my story:

Quonset Under the Kumquat

As anybody knows by now,  I love Buck more than anyone on this earth.  It’s easy to love him.   In our own ways,  we are both imperfect.

That first summer he moved in with his Aunt – onto our Bayou after his parents died – we fell into something that later turned out to be love.

Right against the pond, on his Aunt’s land, was an old Quonset hut.  It was left over from the war days.  The Navy had plunked them along the river and onto our park lands.

Some sailor had planted a kumquat tree next to the hut.  And that’s where Buck first kissed me.  Just outside that old tin hut when the kumquat  was blooming.

Ellespeth