Flash Fiction Writing Prompt: Matchy Matchy

Flash fiction writing prompt copyright ks brooks June 95 helmet and matching cups COMP
Photo copyright K. S. Brooks. Do not use without attribution.

Since you all seem to like the photo without the written prompt, let’s do it again. Use the photograph above as the inspiration for your flash fiction story. Write whatever comes to mind (no sexual, political, or religious stories, jokes, or commentary, please) and after you PROOFREAD it, submit it as your entry. There will be no written prompt this week.

Welcome to the Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge. In 250 words or less, write a story incorporating the elements in the picture at left.  The 250 word limit will be strictly enforced.

Please keep language and subject matter to a PG-13 level.

Use the comment section below to submit your entry. Entries will be accepted until Tuesday at 5:00 PM Pacific Time. No political or religious entries, please. Need help getting started? Read this article on how to write flash fiction.

On Wednesday afternoon, we will open voting to the public with an online poll so they may choose the winner. Voting will be open until 5:00 PM Thursday. On Saturday morning, the winner will be recognized as we post the winning entry along with the picture as a feature.

Once a month, the admins will announce the Editors’ Choice winners. Those stories will be featured in an anthology like this one. Best of luck to you all in your writing!

Entries only in the comment section. Other comments will be deleted. See HERE for additional information and terms. Please note the rule changes for 2016.

Author: Administrators

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6 thoughts on “Flash Fiction Writing Prompt: Matchy Matchy”



    FADE IN:




    I’ll slip it into her cup.

    Got his motorcycle to explode the minute he hits the freeway.



    Saw them sleeping together again.

    (AFTER A MOMENT)They both deserve to die.



    Here’s your burger, honey. Hope you like it.


    Got you another beer, fella. Enjoy.

    I gotta go now. Bye.




  2. “It makes a bold statement, doesn’t it!”

    Tanner Costhorpe scrunched his mouth into an ugly scar, his lips pulling his usually handsome face into a shock-mask. “A statement of what?” he challenged the sponsor’s accountant, tossing the helmet into the corner of his trailer. “A statement of how we’re prepared to emasculate ourselves for a handful of dollars?”

    The besuited man looked past him for a split-second, refusing to register his comment. “It’s in CostCola Colours, of course. Very distinctive and not at all like anything the other teams are wearing. You’re guaranteed to stand out whatever result you get.”

    “What do you mean?” Tanner rounded on the smaller man, his huge hands seizing the expensive lapels of the suit. “The cars’ engines have all been shit this season. That’s why I’ve not managed podium. What’s Harrison been saying? Is it that brother of his spreading rumours? Is that it?

    The executive shrugged, his feet barely touching the ground. “If you think the Harrison/CostCola team merger has anything to do with your poor performance this year, I think you’re sadly deluded. It’s due to cash-flow projections and market exposure. Nothing more. CostCola were prepared to pay for a high-speed banner on the worldwide television coverage. The fact that your car’s moving across the screen more slowly than the others is an advantage to us, despite what you might think.”

    Tanner released the accountant’s suit, opening and closing his hands into fists.

    “I need to speak to Harrison,” he said.

  3. “I get depressed if I am in a place I don’t like,” Erika said. She twirled her spoon and watched a plane glide by overhead, then leveled her gaze on me, as if I should be doing something to remove her from this place she did not like.

    Immediately about 50 smart-ass replies to her complaint popped into my head, but I didn’t use any of them. I leaned back and gazed briefly at Erika. She really was attractive, for an undercover spy. Physically, that is. Personality-wise, not so much. I ignored my cup of yogurt and stayed alert to whatever came next. I was being paid handsomely to bring her home safely, and that’s what I would do.

    What came next was not a complete surprise to me, but I expect it was to Erika. The plane was coming back, flying lower. It showed the colors of an American airline, but I knew this particular American airline did not fly in this part of the world. There could only be one reason for its attempt at disguise. Erika was about to have her depression dramatically cured.

    I grabbed her arm and hustled her towards the church. Intel said they didn’t bomb churches. Intel was right.

    The plane crashed into the patio and exploded, taking out the diners and their cups of yogurt. And my new helmet. Small loss. I’ve never liked helmets.

    It would not be their last attempt, but at least Erika was safe. For now.

  4. Captain Johnson stared through his night vision goggles and whispered, “Now remember one if by land and two if by sea. Look by those tall reeds over there! Paul Revere with his horse. ”

    Officer Mary O’Malley stared through her night vision goggles and spotted two lanterns in the Old North Church Steeple, “I see them! It’s two!”

    Just then three British Red Coats stood up in the tall reeds and shot Paul Revere dead in his tracks. Next they bayoneted him to make sure he was dead. Her mouth dropped open, “Captain! Did you see that?”

    “Yes Mary, that’s why we’re here, to make time right. Now, get going and ride like the dickens to Concord and spread his message, while I take care of these Red Coats.”

    “Yes Sir!” Mary screamed as she revved up her motorcycle and screeched onto the dirt road scaring the dickens out of the Red Coats when she roared past them doing a wheelie.

    “That’s my girl! Scare the devil out of them! Now it’s my turn.” With that said, he revved up his bike and charged headlong into them and knocking them over into Boston Bay. Quickly, Captain Johnson transported Paul Revere’s body out of there, so no one would know he was killed.

    As the legend goes, Paul Reverie screamed on his wild ride, “The British are coming!” Little did anyone know that it was really Mary’s amplified voice, from the loudspeaker, on her Banshee Time Travel Motorcycle.

  5. Hale quickly finishes his ice cream when he hears his number over the PA system.

    “Racers number 9 and 4 please make your way to the track”

    He grabs his helmet, jumps on his bike, and makes his way to the starting line. His heart is beating harder than it had ever beaten before. If he wins this one, he’ll be champion. He’ll finally be able to buy that engagement ring he’s been eyeing for months.

    He slowly pulls up to the starting line. His opponent revs the engine, loud enough for Hale to hear. Hale glances, and number 4 looks his direction and gives a little smirk.

    The countdown starts.

    Once the green light shines, they both kick into gear. The smell of burned rubber quickly fills the air. Smoke pours out from behind both bikes as they begin to gain their grip on the hot asphalt. Number 4 pulls ahead at the beginning. Hale is just milliseconds behind.

    He thinks to himself, “Come on Hale, you can do this!”

    He hunches over his handlebars a bit more to negate any extra drag. The crowd stands in anticipation of the grand finale. Time slows to a crawl as the finish line approaches. He glances to Number 4. They lock eyes in that instant, and Number 4 sees a little smirk on Hales face, as he crosses the line half a length faster.

  6. “Look Daddy. I love the way your helmet matches our ice cream cups!”

    Kiera loved anything bright and colorful. Her choice of outfit boasted green and pink geometric designs. Not something her mother would approve of, but this was my time with our sweet five year old girl. I’ve waited for this weekend four long months and I finally won visitation after Shelly ran away with Kiera to Cleveland, two hundred miles from the place we called home for the
    last seven years. I was completely surprised by her move. We were happy, and our daughter had a secure, loving home, I thought.

    “Are you finished with your ice cream Kiera? We had better get going if we are going to make it to the zoo.”

    “I’m done Daddy. Do we get to see the tigers today?”

    “If we can get close enough, we will.” Tigers were her favorite animal and the zoo had advertised two new tiger had arrived recently. “Let’s go. Here put on your helmet, see it matches mine.”

    “It’s pretty.”

    “You’re pretty Kiera. Now hang on tight okay? It’s going to be a long ride.”

    I revved my cycle to life. Shelly would have a fit if she knew I had Kiera on a motorcycle. Well, I thought to myself, she’ll be looking for us in my ninety nine Honda. We’ll be looking at the tigers at the San Francisco Zoo before she even knows I’ve taken my daughter, never to return to Ohio.

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