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Category: Flash fiction

  • The Grass is Greener #99WordStories

    The Grass is Greener #99WordStories

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write about the farm life. Where is the farm and who are the farmers? What are they farming and why? How is the farm life? Go where the prompt leads!

    Mum and Dad were both country people and for the first six years of my life, I lived on a farm. It was a small crops farm. Dad grew beans, cabbages, pineapples, and I’m not sure what else. We had chickens. Of that, I am sure. When I went to collect the eggs one day, there was a red-bellied black snake curled up around the eggs. I ran to get Mum who came running back with a rake. By the time she got there, the snake was gone. Thankfully.

    This is me (20 mths) and my sister (4½) in front of the pineapple crop. © Norah Colvin

    Mum and Dad also tried to keep a cow for milking but without success. One cow knocked down the fence; another climbed under; and a third jumped over. They gave up on keeping cows after that. (I’ve written about those cows twice before: here and here.)

    Not long after that, Dad sold the farm and we moved to suburban life by the beach. My siblings and I spent long days in the water, on the sand or climbing the red cliffs after which the area got its name. The school holidays dragged with nothing much to do, even if there were plenty of books to read, which was my favourite thing to do. So, an invitation to holiday with cousins on a property (cattle and sheep station) in the country was a joy. Interestingly, my cousins loved their holidays at the beach. My responses to Charli’s prompt are based on those thoughts but are definitely not true to life. Not my life and not back then. Regardless, I hope you enjoy.

    The Grass is Greener I

    Holidays with her cousins on the farm were the best. Days stretched from dawn to dusk with unbounded fun the cousins called chores: milking cows, feeding chickens, collecting eggs, riding horses and, sometimes, zooming around paddocks on quad bikes to muster sheep. Her cousins were never told what to do. They’d decide. ‘C’mon, we’ll milk the cows,’ they’d say. Or ‘On your bike. Let’s muster some sheep.’ So many fun things to do. At home, Annabelle’s chores dragged. The more she procrastinated, the longer they took. The days were interminable. ‘I wish there was something to do,’ she’d say.

    The Grass is Greener II

    Holidays with cousin Annabelle in the city were the best with something different to do every single day: watching movies at the cinema, slurping milkshakes in the mall, bowling balls at ten pins, splashing in the council pool. The stores were stocked with treasures they’d never imagined and deciding how to expand the value of their hard-earned saved-up dollars was challenging. One day a bus trip, the next a ferry ride on the river, zooming along streets on motorised scooters or joining a Segway tour; they couldn’t decide which was more fun. Anything sure beat their day-long country chores.

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

  • I’d rather be … #99WordStories

    I’d rather be … #99WordStories

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writes to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story using the phrase, “I’d rather be…” You fill in what comes next. What would a character(s) rather be doing and why? How can you use the phrase as a literary device? Go where the prompt leads!

    This is my response. I hope you like it.

    I’d rather be …

    ‘I’d rather be dead!’

    She ran into the street in a downpour of tears, yanking at the sweater as if it crawled with monsters.

    ‘Don’t worry. She’ll be back,’ said Dad.

    ‘I only suggested —’

    ‘I know. But teenagers like to choose what they wear.’

    ‘She always did. Even a toddler — so dramatic.’

    ‘Like someone I know. Would you have worn your mother’s old sweater at her age?’

    ‘I did and was grateful for it.’

    ‘You were poor. We can afford to buy her a sweater.’

    ‘There’s nothing wrong with hand-me-downs.’

    ‘But The Bay City Rollers? Really?’

    ‘Well —’

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

    Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Zippers can be read at the Carrot Ranch here.

  • Zipper Obsession #99WordStories

    Zipper Obsession #99WordStories

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about zippers. What are the zippers for? What challenges do they present to the story? Go where the prompt leads!

    This is my response. I hope you enjoy it.

    Zipper Obsession

    Jayden was obsessed with zippers almost from birth. The swish of a zipper always turned tears to laughter.

    When a toddler, Jayden’s fascination with interlocking teeth equalled the zip-zip-swish. Zippered items were treasured more than any store-bought toys.

    When grandparents visited, Jayden targeted Grandma’s handbag. Zip. Zip …

    “Is that boy still obsessed with zippers?” said Grandpa. “Has he been tested yet?”

    “It’s just a phase,” said Dad.

    “Humph,” said Grandpa, opening his Gladstone bag. Swhooosh.

    Jayden stopped. What was that?

    Grandpa closed the bag. Blonk.

    Swhooosh; blonk. Swhoosh; blonk.

    Jayden abandoned Grandma’s bag for Grandpa’s.

    Zipper phase zipped.

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

    Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Anxiety can be read at the Carrot Ranch here.

  • Anxiety — First Day Jitters #99WordStories

    Anxiety — First Day Jitters #99WordStories

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes anxiety. Who has anxiety or what is the source? Is there conflict? How can you use anxiety to further a story? Go where the prompt leads!

    Anxiety is probably familiar to most of us at some stage of our lives — starting a new job, public speaking, waiting for a medical diagnosis. We all feel it in lesser or greater degrees. Even children feel it. It’s not uncommon for children to feel some anxiety when starting a new school. But children aren’t the only ones. Parents may feel some anxiety about how their children will fare. It may or may not surprise you, that teachers feel it too. Having spent most of my life in schools as either student or teacher, where else could I go with this prompt?

    First Day Jitters

    “I feel sick.”

    “My tummy feels all jumbly.”

    “My head hurts.”

    “I don’t want to go.”

    “You’ll be okay once you’re there. Everyone feels the same on their first day at a new school.’

    “But what if they don’t like me?”

    “They will. Come on. You’ll feel better when you’re up.”

    “But what if I mess up?”

    “You won’t. Close your eyes. Take some deep breaths. Relax. You can do this.”

    Everyone was already seated when he entered the room. They smiled. “Good morning, Mr Clarke.”

    He smiled back. “Good morning, children.”

    She was right. He could do this.

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

    Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt The ’49ers can be read at the Carrot Ranch here.

  • The ’49ers

    The ’49ers

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about “the ’49ers.” Who or what are they? What is the significance of the number? Do you follow the Gold Rush history or venture into new territory? Go where the prompt leads!

    Here’s a bit of trivia to introduce my story in case, like me, you weren’t aware of the term forty-niner. Forty-niner refers to miners and others who took part in the 1849 gold rushes in California. Charli does say we can go where the prompt leads, but I hung around looking for a nugget. I hope you enjoy it.

    The ’49ers

    The history buffs needed a name for the trivia competition — nothing mundane and overused like ‘The No Hopers’ or boringly obvious like ‘Work Mates’ — something meaningful, not overly obvious, but not too obscure.

    “How about The ’49ers?” one suggested.

    “Perfect!” the others agreed.

    No one thought too much about the monikers of others, but was it coincidental that each week The ’49ers scored exactly 49?

    Another team scoffed. “Should have been ‘Clueless’.”

    “They’re certainly not all 49.”

    “Forty-nine and more, I’d say.”

    When the night’s theme was the gold rushes, the researchers showed their mettle and panned the gold.

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

    Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt The Wish I Made can be read at the Carrot Ranch here.

  • The Wish Penny #99WordStories

    The Wish Penny #99WordStories

    As many of you know, for the past several years, I have been participating in the weekly flash fiction challenges at the Carrot Ranch. The challenges have begun again with a few changes for 2022. I intend to continue responding to the prompts as often as I can. I hope many of you will join in too. Charli Mills, writer-extraordinaire and convener of the challenges, explains the new format in her first prompt post for 2022. Head over there to check out the details if you are interested in joining in future prompts.  

    Charli’s prompt for this week was to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about “the wish I made.” Whose wish is it and how does it fit into the story? What kind of wish? Go where the prompt leads!

    You can read all responses to the prompt in the collection at the Carrot Ranch when they are published each Wednesday. This week’s collection will be published next Wednesday 2 February.

    For me, the prompt is an interesting coincidence as I’ve been working on a couple of stories about wish fairies (when I should be writing about a sorcerer’s apprentice — just can’t seem to get these prompts right). This story is nothing like the other stories I’m working on but relates to the warning ‘Be careful what you wish for.’ Spoiler alert — it doesn’t have a happy ending. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

    The Wish Penny

    Patsy was always wishing for something.

    I wish I had a smaller nose.

    — luxurious curls.

    — a rainbow tutu.

    And her wishes always came true. After all, she was a wish fairy.

    As soon as one wish was fulfilled, she wished another.

    I wish I had pearly white teeth.

    — dainty feet.

    — a diamond tiara.

    I wish, I wish, I wish …

    One day, Patsy found a shiny, round, brown object on the ground. She examined it, reading the word engraved, ‘Penny’.

    I wish I was a Penny rather than a Patsy, she said; and rolled away silently in the dirt.

    Okay. Didn’t like that one? What about this one?

    The Wish Penny V2

    Patsy was always wishing for something.

    I wish I had a smaller nose.

    — a warm coat.

    — a pair of shoes.

    But her wishes never came true. Why would they? There’s no such thing as magic.

    But she never stopped wishing and hoping.

    I wish I had clean clothes.

    — something to eat.

    — someone to love me.

    One day, Patsy found a shiny, round, brown object on the ground. She examined it, reading the word engraved, ‘Penny’. As she rubbed it, she whispered, I wish I had someone to play with. Suddenly, she heard the children calling, ‘Patsy! Come and play!’

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

  • The Littlest Goat #flashfiction

    The Littlest Goat #flashfiction

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes the littlest Christmas goat. Who does the goat belong to? What is happening? Go where the prompt leads!

    When I thought of goats, children and stories, I thought of one of my least favourite children’s stories: The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids. I’ve written about it before, explained why I disliked it, and even wrote another flash fiction in response to one of Charli’s prompts about it.

    There was nothing else for it. I had to attack it again in another way, hoping to put it in a more positive light. I hope you like it.

    The Littlest Goat

    “You’re too little.”

    The all-too-familiar chorus stung but he determined to show them size didn’t matter; not the way they thought.

    Before long, opportunity came knocking.

    The others were too stupid to check before opening the door, too slow to escape the intruder and too big to hide. The littlest one watched from the grandfather clock as the wolf devoured them one by one.

    When Mother returned from Christmas shopping, the littlest goat told all. Together, they found the greedy wolf and rescued his brothers.

    The littlest goat showed that being clever, quick and brave beat size any day.

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

  • Flight Cancelled #flashfiction

    Flight Cancelled #flashfiction

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write about a canceled flight. Where was the flight headed? Who does it impact and why? How does a protagonist handle the situation? Go where the prompt leads!

    Due to our Covid-19 lockdowns and border restrictions, it’s a couple of years now since I took a flight anywhere. Even flights of the imagination have been few and far between as a variety of factors have colluded to suppress my creativity as well. However, I couldn’t resist a prompt about flight.

    I’ve always thought how wonderful it would be to be a bird and fly above the earth and see it in all its beauty. Looking down on the patchwork quilt from a plane’s window gives me joy and a sense of wonder. How much greater it would be to fly like a bird. I guess other forms of flight would give an experience closer to that of a bird, but I haven’t tried any of those yet (and am unlikely to).

    Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach is one of my favourite books. I have read it numerous times and love the description of flight and the exhilaration it brings to Jonathan.

    I know I’m not the only one to be fascinated by flight. Many children wish they could fly like birds and their superheroes. That’s where I’ve gone with my response to Charli’s prompt this time. I hope you enjoy it.

    Flight Cancelled

    Heron balanced on one leg on the bare tree branch above the water. He spread his wings and stretched his neck to face the breeze. He revelled in the freedom of flight even before his feet lifted from their base — the exultation of gliding through the thermals. Superhero Heron — like his namesake — was ready for take-off.

    ‘Heron! Heron! Get down. This instant.’

    ‘I am. I’m flying down.’

    ‘No. You are using the same ladder you used to get up.’

    ‘You called me Heron, so I can fly.’

    ‘You will not fly today. This flight is cancelled. You are grounded.’

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

    Oh, and before you go, you might like to watch a fun video of a picture book by Mo Willems called Today I Will Fly. I love it. It’s so clever, especially the ending. Unfortunately, I can’t share it here but you can follow the link to watch.

  • Grandpa’s Tool Shed #flashfiction

    Grandpa’s Tool Shed #flashfiction

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write about tools. Whose tools are they and how do they fit into the story? What kind of tools? Go where the prompt leads!

    Charli, of course wrote about writer’s tools and provided a multitude of links to great resources for learning about them. She also wrote about tools for dealing with snow, but I can only imagine using them. My experience with snow is very limited.

    I drew upon my memories of childhood for my response. I hope you like it.

    Grandpa’s Tool Shed

    Jacob worked tirelessly alongside Grandpa. He loved the sweet scent of sawdust curls and the heady smell of fresh paint. He loved that ash from Grandpa’s cigarette fell unchecked into the shavings. He especially liked using Grandpa’s real tools. The plastic bench at Kindy was only a toy.

    Jacob’s visits decreased but Grandpa never forgot. He left the house, the shed and all his tools to Jacob. Standing in the dark empty shed, Jacob tried to conjure the smells of Grandpa. There was nothing else to do. He rolled up his sleeves and started planing sawdust curls — in memory.

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

  • Candy Kitchen #flashfiction

    Candy Kitchen #flashfiction

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that features a candy kitchen. You can interpret the phrase creatively or stick to the traditional. Is it sweet? Ironic? Any genre will do. Go where the prompt leads!

    My thoughts about a candy kitchen went straight to Roald Dahl’s book Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. What an incredible candy kitchen that was. And then there was the song The Candy Man performed by Sammy Davis Jr.

    Who wouldn’t want to be a kid in a candy store, or better yet, a kid in a candy kitchen?

    I thought of the busy kitchen of my childhood, with my mother making sweets for Christmas treats. There were rum balls and peanut brittle, chocolate bark and caramel fudge, coconut ice and marshmallow, and who knows what other sweet delights. I don’t remember them all. But I do remember one more recent Christmas when the choice of sweets became a philosophical rather than taste decision.

    This is a fictionalised version of the incident. I hope you enjoy it.

    Marshmallow Waves

    The cooks bustled about my kitchen making sweets to gift.

    “I love homemade gifts,” she said.

    “Especially when we get to share,” he said, sampling largish crumbs of fudge and coconut ice.

    “Marshmallow is amazing,” she said. It mixes up so light and fluffy,”

    “What’s in it?”

    “Sugar, water and gelatine.”

    “What’s gelatine?” he asked.

    I dared not tell the vegetarians, but he searched for information on his phone.

    “We can’t eat that,” he spluttered. “Gelatine’s made from animal bones!”

    The marshmallow mix, so light and fluffy, was binned. Not even a taste for me, although I’m not vegetarian.

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.