Enter Tragedy

Flash Fiction Tragedy Scene

The scene a lovely patio setting; porch swing, hammock, glass and iron furnishings.  Wine and cheese tray, crackling fire nestled in bricks quaintly creating a corner for cozy conversation. The couple rarely curled up on the patio, despite the fact that it’s lure was the main selling point of the house. He thought it took too much time and effort to chop a few blocks of wood. Rarely was their time for the two to do anything as he over-valued his personal space and kept her like heirloom china. The oversized log splitter he found in the Bulletin Board littered the vibrant green lawn. Her roses shivered in contrast. Junk amidst beautiful landscaping. She sipped her wine, calmly putting the plug back into the outlet before dialing 911. Convincing local authorities that her husband’s handy-man abilities were lacking was easy. After all, look at the miss-patched shingles and makeshift driveway. Lips smirked in deception, she worked up the tears.

His death happened simple enough.  Truly, there was no way to disprove the basic facts.  The coroner’s report went straight through, no questions:  Death by Faulty Mechanical Equipment.

Picture c/o:  http://usprideproducts.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/pto-adapter-attachment.jpg

Operation: Steak Fries {FridayFictioneers}

Friday Fictioneers
“Operation: Steak Fries”
100 words
c/o Rochelle
Thanks to Emmy L. Gant for the Photo Prompt this week!

emmylgant

Operation: Steak Fries

“I told you to use fresh offerings,” Major Flank said. “Looks to me, Comrades, like Lt. Shank failed the whole operation. Look at those teeth marks. Couldn’t take waiting all night till chow?”

“With all due respect, sir,” Shank said, “I would like to remind the company that I am a vegetarian. And a decent human being.”

“That remains to be determined,” Captain Loin said, “Shank was on duty while Lt. Rib performed the intergalactic call. Get Private Round in here; set up another offering.”

“Sir, Round was the previous offering.”

“Indeed. Well, Shank, time to see if you’re acceptable.”

***


Hello, Fellow Writers ~

I tried something different this week and went with strictly dialogue. Hope it works!

As always, thank you for reading…

@MmePhilosopher

Flash Fiction Aspiring Writers

Flash Fiction   *   Aspiring Writers   *   150 words   *   9 March 2016

Image by Louise @The Storyteller’s Abode

photo-20160308033919528

Keep twenty-one paces behind him, Xander’s warning hissed in her mind while Celeste tenderly crept up the stone steps. She should not have come to the old world, should not be this close to such secrets. Ambition — that is what drove her, the desire to have her name on a cold brass plaque or clever sculpture. Now, success seemed trifle. The secrets in the lost text were lost for a reason. The secrets could be the undoing of civilization, a complete upheaval in understanding.

At seventeen paces, Celeste paused, watching the target descend the opposing set of steps – right where she needed him to be to activate the archaic trap. Four paces further. She ascended the staircase, found the mossy-gouge, and pulled the lever. Click.Clack.Click. Even upwind, not a soul heard him scream. Celeste smiled, sent a confirmation text, and took a selfie on the stairs. Ambition shined on.

Picture c/o Louise:  https://pricelessjoy.files.wordpress.com/2016/03/photo-20160308033919528.jpg

FF: No Batteries Required

No Batteries Required

100 words

“Load ’em up, Charlie,” me says to meself, “Townies dint figure to listen. We knew it’d come to Us.”

Stacks, piled high helps brace them walls of the shanty. Charlie, he quicker, he swipped ‘em off ole Mar-dee. Frem ‘er windowsill, nonetheless. Townies kent see the future like We can.

“All hooked up on ‘em talkers, en dem folks dint kin it…”

“Listen, man,” Charlie, he says to me, “I can’t keep coming here like this – entertaining your breakdown. Enabling this morbid nightmare. Those batteries I bring you are dead. There’s no computer revolution. No robots on the street.”

Picture c/o:  https://thebumblefiles.files.wordpress.com/2016/03/copyight-sean-fallon.jpg