Flash Fiction Writing Prompt: Isolated

Photo copyright K. S. Brooks. Do not use without attribution.

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.

Author: Administrators

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7 thoughts on “Flash Fiction Writing Prompt: Isolated”

  1. The Moon rose and commanded the sky above them. Silently, the couple walked the deserted Florida beach, not really going anywhere. for today was their last day together before she shipped out.

    They stopped and embraced, kissing deeply, not really wanting to let go for the last time. Both feared that if they parted even for a moment, they would loose each other in the cold November breeze.

    She gently buried her face on his chest, “I don’t want to go.”

    Comforting her, “You have to. It’s what you signed up for. The world is counting on you.”

    “Yes, I know, but I just wish you could come to.”

    Looking up at the Moon, “Do you remember what you told me when we first met?”

    “Yes.” She sobbed, “where ever we are, we will never by alone because we will always have the same moon to look up at.”

    “But I never thought I would be the one that would be looking down on you from there. Don’t say another word just hold me tight until they call me because I won’t be able to hold you tight from up there.”

    Her ring tone began to play Sinatra singing, “Fly me to the moon. Let me play among the stars.”

    They kissed one last time on Cape Canaveral beach, not wanting to ever let go.

  2. I heard the roar of the engine as the car went over the edge. The car crashing through brush, the thud of boulders rolling down the hillside. But now I hear nothing. Silence. Frightening, lonely silence. I am lying in tall green grass beneath a bright blue sky. I cannot move, can’t even turn my head. Am I destined to die here? Will Stephen mourn my death? No, not after I told him I would rather be alone the rest of my life than spend another minute with him. Now I have what I said I wanted. To be left alone. But not like this. Oh, please, not like this. Okay, so I ruined his miserable life, but I don’t deserve this. Alone in a canyon, unable to move or even call out for help… Enough! Enough of the self-pity. There is supposed to be something good in the worst situation. One positive thing. Okay, got it. It is not raining. No rain is a plus. It’s a long shot, but if the weather holds a hiker just might find me. Uh, oh… Did I feel a drop just then?

  3. The creature appeared as morning illuminated the night. The hair on her head stood straight up. She turned and glared, her eyes ablaze with curiosity. She reached down and lifted me in the palm of her gigantic hand, wiggling her seven fingers in tempo with the humming flowing from her pursed lips.

    Terrified, I clung to her smallest finger, pleading,
    “What? Who?” She whisked me from one hand to the other.

    Stroking my hair with her enormous forefinger, she tilted her head, and grinned. The sounds she uttered could have been the language of her home, but made no sense to me. Peeking over the edge of her hand, I realized it was at least 50 feet to the ground. I got dizzy. She eased me into the largest crease of her palm. Her warm breath engulfed me. I passed out.

    When I awoke, she was lying next to me, but stood as I tried to crawl away. The ground trembled as she lumbered towards an immense hovering spacecraft, turned to wave, and leaped inside.

    It roared out of sight in a blink.

    I noticed a thumb drive attached to my laptop set to Translate .
    Plugging it in, I cringed when I read, “Sorry. Have to fly. Was sent to check Earth for relocation. Earth won! Oh, You were great. Will be back for more. See you soon.”

    I’ve been hiding ever since, horrified, trying to figure out, “What did I do???”

  4. ‘Lucky child! Parents both are highly established professionals’
    — said all when Jacob took birth. But within months he became an unavoidable headache to his busy parents. They used to request each other to do some ‘Sacrifice’ for the baby, but could do neither. Finally, proving incompatibility before court of law, in search of a better life they separated.
    The child cried demanding mom and dad both under single roof. But, his naive voice was overlooked, overruled.

    Jacob’s legal guardianship was awarded to his Grandpa, the father of his mother. Granny became his friend-philosopher-guide. During babyhood, at times, Jacob used to get depressed; he used to ask about parents. Granny taught him how to restrain, refrain. She showed him the moon. While trillions of starts occur in pairs and clusters twinkling to one another, the moon is happily forgotten; the rarest.

    ‘That moon is one like you, the most precious. He can transform scorching sun-rays to soothing moonlight. Now smile like a full moon?’
    Jacob used to get a smiling relief.

    Jacob, 14, was at balcony, alone, staring at the moon. Granny died a day ago.

    ‘Jacob, I want you and your mom back in my life. Won’t you help me recover from this isolation?’
    Jacob turned behind, saw his dad, with mom. He became speechless at first. Then boldly replied, ‘One condition; grandpa will stay with me. Agreed?’

  5. The Class Clown and the End of the World

    I floated here sometime in the night. This swamp is a still body of water. You may have caught that pun…body of water. Well, if you missed it, no great loss. To me, at any rate.

    I was, once, the funniest of men. It started as a boy. The world was such a serious place then. “Duck and Cover,” the teacher would yell. We would scurry under our desks. The fat kids had difficulty with that. I was one of them. Dickie Osgood was another. He was a whiner, didn’t get the larger picture. He truly believed they’d drop the bomb, his heft might keep him from cramming in under the desk, that he’d die.

    It would’ve been worth it to have him face the end of the world.

    Me, I had fun with it. But there was a price. Old Lady Masters, Judy suck-a-lemon Masters, thin as a pencil and as sharp as a dull tack, she’d bemoan to my mother at parent teacher night, “Jock, he’d better start taking life a little more seriously, Mrs. Scranton. Class clowns are not appreciated.”

    I devoted my life to proving her wrong. That led me to stand-up and that led me down the back alley to Stig Bullard’s Comedy Club. That would have been fine if Stig hadn’t gone and sliced the throat of his partner. With me as witness.

    If my eyes had life, I could see that sweet blue sky.

  6. I come from a really big family. We live by the ocean — right up on the dunes, in fact.
    I really enjoy the slightly salty sea breezes that constantly blow. The view is spectacular and enjoyed by the many tourists who come to these shores.

    At night, especially when there is a full moon, the sea surface is like a mirror, highlighted by the passage of an occasional wave. The murmur of them softly washing ashore renders the experience one of tranquility.

    Yet I feel alone, isolated while surrounded by my many family members.

    Am I the only blade of sea grass that appreciates its surroundings?


  7. Stranded. Lost. Alone. My mind raced as I tried to think of a way out of here. As my plane burst into flames, a tear trickled down my cheek. It had been a beautiful vessel. I sat in the sand and thought of where I had been 15 minutes ago, so happy to be on my first solo flight, how I had become reckless, tried a nosedive, and lost control. The desert stretched on forever with no one in sight. Panic surged through me as the night set in.
    The next day I tried to start early to avoid the intense heat, but before long the temperature started rising rapidly. After a while, the sand started spinning, my knees grew slack and I collapsed to the ground. As I laid on the sand, too exhausted to move, I happened to catch sight of a green plant over me. The sand felt like a soft mattress. It was a soft mattress, unless I was going crazy. Potted plants surrounded me. I bolted upright. I gazed up at the roof, strangely painted like the sky. In fact, I could actually fell the sun projecting heat and a soft breeze blew through. Inside? A scientist walked in and smiled at my amazement. He explained I was in a research settlement. They had this room for people to enjoy the outdoors like they are back at home. I had been found unconscious during a plant search and they were now sending me home. Home.

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