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 in the comments section below. There will be no written prompt.
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.
“Lawd, she’s finally gone!”
“Hallelujah!!!”
“It sure took a long time comin’. But, the first time is always an adventure.”
“Now ain’t that the truth.”
“She always made me feel so good whenever we talked about it.”
“Me, too. I can still picture her carryin’ on.”
“’member her complainin’ how long it’s takin’. And, now, it finally happened.”
“Surprised she didn’t take along that pillow sittin’ in the window. She took it wherever she went. Loved feelin’ it huggin’ her bottom, she always said.”
“Whatta woman.”
“She’s only been gone a short time and I miss her so already.”
“Gotta give her credit, though. She saved up for a fine sendoff.”
“Lawd, yes. There were quite a few of us sayin’ goodbye. And, she had apples, flowers and tea for all of us.”
“Amen. And she looked so happy. Smilin’ like a little baby. Nicest lady I ever knew.”
“Well, it’s getting’ kinda late. Watcha gonna do now?”
“I’m gonna go home and take a nap. Whatchoo gonna do?”
“Same thing. Say, why don’t we all get together here later, just in time.”
“Oh, my. Great idea. But, why don’t we all meet down at the bus station, instead, to surprise her when she gets off the bus from Las Vegas.”
“That’s even better. Seeya there. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Maggie saw Clyde’s semi pull up. She was glad to see him, maybe things would turn around, “Hey Clyde, I got your coffee poured, grab a seat.”
“Hi Maggie it sure is good to see you. Sorry, my dispatcher changed my route. Can I have my regular order?” Then turning to the two little old Partridge Sisters at the front table, he said, “Morning Sisters.” As usual, he was snubbed and got no reply.
Maggie headed into the kitchen thinking, I’m not loosing Clyde, too, “So Clyde, how often can I count on you stopping by?” She waited, but Clyde did not respond. She plated up his breakfast and brought it out. She saw the empty glaze in his eyes, so she said, “Here let me get you a refill.”
He said with a finality in his voice, “Thanks Maggie. I won’t be coming back.”
“Awe come on, you‘ll be back. Here try my special blend.”
“I got to drive where they tell me.” He sipped it, “What did you put in this? It tastes bitter and smells like almonds.”
“Clyde the Partridge Sisters loved it,” she urged, “try some more, that’s right drink it all up.”
After that, every morning Clyde joined the Partridge sisters seated in the front window waiting for Maggie to arrive. Maggie thought, how lucky she was to always have a diner with so many well dressed customers. She was so pleased that her uncle had taught her the art of taxidermy.
I never took it seriously, the business about the dirt in that silly little suitcase being magic. Magic doesn’t exist, right? But since it was Grannie’s last request I made sure it was buried with her in the casket. Shaking my head with a fond smile I sneaked it in out of sight.
As the procession of mourners left the open gravesite, casket poised to be lowered later by the gravediggers, that shared joke eased the ache of departure.
The unexpected jangle of the phone early next morning roused me out of a dream of Grannie sitting under an umbrella on a beach in the Riviera. She had just raised her glass of wine to me and winked as if sharing a secret.
It took me a moment to realize it was just a dream and pick up the receiver.
“Ms. Taylor?”
“Yes.”
“There’s a problem with the casket.”
“What do you mean? Who is this?”
“Oh, sorry, it’s Paul – from the cemetery. Um, the casket’s empty.”
The hair rose on my neck. “Empty?”
Paul cleared his throat. “Yes, we need you to come down here.”
I slipped on some clothes and rushed out, remembering that suitcase. Paul met me beside the opened casket and handed me a piece of paper. “This was inside.”
It read, “Thanks for the send-off. The sand is lovely and warm.”
I recalled my dream. “You’re welcome Grannie. Have a glass for me.”
I grinned all the way home. I’m a believer now.
A winter night, nineteen years ago. Aurabliss Charity personnel noticed a boy beside their office-gate. Aged four at most; head leaning forward, coiled body shivering in cold. A volunteer examined closer. On inquiry the boy revealed, he was Abdul, an orphan. His uncle and aunt had brought him there, asked to wait till they return.
The charity gave him refuge. Hours passed, came none.
Days passed. Volunteers contacted the city police. They tried best, but could not locate his home, or uncle, or any relative. Aurabliss orphanage became Abdul’s home. He started primary schooling.
Then?
One fine morning, Abdul’s class teacher Mrs. Benova, completing due formalities, took him to her home.
‘Teacher, are you taking me to your home?’
‘Hmm…Ours home’ she smiled.
She added, ‘…And, not teacher, call me Granny, okay?’
‘Granny!’ —
An unknown pleasure tided both the hearts, and the minds.
The aged, lonely widow Mrs. Benova became proud granny of Abdul. Under her guidance he graduated; earned diploma in Hotel-management. Then went for startup aiming own luxurious restaurant. He succeeded, but, a year before that, his granny was gone.
In his restaurant Abdul founded ‘Granny Club’. On the national granny day he organized “Grannies’ Get Together”
Via Aurabliss charity he invited grannies. They came and enjoyed all day like little girls! Before they returned, Abdul gifted them items of his granny’s choice.
He noted in diary: Reinvented life; Granny’s reborn.
Gracie swallowed her tea and the cup hit the saucer with a clatter. “You pinched his behind?”
“I pinched his behind.” Margaret’s nose twitched. “His left cheek.”
Gracie covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. “The hunky nurse’s assistant.”
Margaret grinned. “But wait. There’s more.”
The life-long friends needed a good, hearty laugh; the orderlies and residents at the nursing home had no sense of humor whatsoever.
Margaret leaned in. “I was on his right side but he keeps his wallet in that pocket.”
“So you tweaked the left,” Gracie whispered.
Margaret surrounded her lips with her hands, “I reached around and –”
“Oh, my. Did he scold you?”
“He didn’t know it was me.”
“How?”
“Well, Mrs. Rittenbocker –”
“The one in the wheelchair?”
Margaret nodded. “She was parked right behind him. So he thought –”
Gracie bounced in her seat. “He thought it was Mrs. Rittenbocker! Oh, you are naughty.”
Margaret wiped laughing tears from the corner of her eyes. “He turned to Mrs. Rittenbocker and said, ‘Mrs. Rittenbocker. Now you behave yourself.’ She shoved her teeth in her mouth and asked what she did. ‘You know what you did.’ Then Muscles McGee rolled her back to her room.”
“Did she know it was you?”
“Well, when she turned to look at me, I stuck my tongue out at her.”
“Marg, you are so naughty.”
“So are you. That’s why you find it funny.”
And they laughed. And for those few minutes, they were twenty-two again.