Showing posts with label Flash Fiction Challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Flash Fiction Challenge. Show all posts

Monday, August 13, 2018

WEP - CHANGE OF HEART



WHEN LOVE DIES

it’s sudden

earth shattering

soul-sickening

mind-numbing


when love dies

it’s unrepairable

ashes scattered on hurricane winds

never to be whole again


when love dies

light is diminished

color dull

and music, one melancholy note


when love dies

the soul is scarred

life becomes questionable

the future non-existent



when love dies

the heart weakens

trust shatters

but hope eventually fills the void.

***

Yolanda Renee © 2018

TO READ MORE CHALLENGE ENTRIES
FOLLOW THE NAMES
WITH -DL- AFTER THEM.




Tuesday, February 20, 2018

WEP - In Too Deep

THREATS & PROMISES


It was a calm spring morning when my world came to an end. An early morning rain made the marigolds brighter, the forget-me-nots bluer, and the multicolored pansies gave the garden a rainbow of color. I was sitting in the sunroom enjoying a cup of coffee when the sound of sirens destroyed the serenity and announced a day of reckoning.

~~*****~~

"Please, Mrs. Strong," the strain and impatience graveled FBI Agent Ronald Gray’s voice. "Just tell me about your husband," he pleaded. His tone was much less threatening than when we’d first been introduced. After being escorted to the Boulder police department by two surly police officers who refused to answer my questions, I was unceremoniously shoved into an interview room with the brusque Agent. His scrutiny made me feel as inadequate as a rat in a line-up of cats. A surlier man, I’d never met. He refused to answer my questions but kept demanding that I answer his.

"I don’t understand what you want from me. I haven’t seen John in two years. What can I possibly tell you?"

"Why. The world wants to know why Mrs. Strong. Why does a man kill innocent people? We deserve to know, why!"He slammed his fist on the table, and I felt the blow in my heart.

"John left this for you." The Agent slammed a letter down on the table. I read it, and that was the moment. There would be no more false bravado.






Deidre,

     You’ve always admired my penmanship. How do you like my blood red ink? Actually, my blood and written with a quill, can you believe it? Nothing but the best for you, my dear sweet wife.
     Well, you did it. You got away. Left the kids and me to follow your lustful heart. I hope he was worth it! No, that’s not true, I hope he beats you daily! Maybe took all your hard earned and hoarded money and left you high and dry. God, knows that’s a fantasy, a dream I have regularly. That and finding you.
     The finding you fantasy would’ve taken a book, but I’m sure you can imagine!
     But who knows? Maybe I’d have forgiven you. Now we’ll never know.
Enjoy the notoriety.
You’ve earned it sweetheart!

Always yours,

John
"Because of me?" I whispered. Tears streamed down my cheeks. "He did it because of me." I bowed my head over my arms and cried like a woman condemned. Hell would bring no more agonizing a punishment than the guilt that consumed me. The world went black.

At the hospital, I was all but catatonic. The doctors and my attorney refused to let the agent question me again. I slowly gathered my strength and agreed to talk to Agent Gray, but only on my terms. I wanted to go home, but no longer had one. Once the press learned of my location, no place was safe. I insisted on protection, and a new identity. The FBI saw to the changes, and I agreed to talk.

"You were married for over twenty years. What happened? What drove John to do this?"

"I can’t answer that question. I lived with the man for twenty years, and I can’t tell you who he was. I just know I could no longer live in the comfortable prison I'd allowed him to create for me. The children were adults. It was time. I found the courage."

"But why did you leave, why did it take you so long? We checked, there was no abuse. We talked to family and friends, they said you two were the couple everyone envied."

"We were, in public. For years I carried off the biggest fake out in history. I played the game. It made John happy, and when he was happy, I thought less and less of ending my life. It’s called survival."

"From what?" the agent asked in desperation.

"A man obsessed, controlling, angry. I’d left him before. But he always found me. We had children, they loved their father, even as they feared him. It was clear I’d never escape. If I did, it meant giving up my children too. Once they were adults, I could let go. I disappeared, changed my name, and prayed he’d never find me."

Agent Gray shook his head. "John left us a message too. He wrote, 'Ask Deidre. She knows the answers you seek. This is all on her.'" The Agent sighed deeply and asked the one question he’d been dying to ask for days. “Did you know?"

"Did I know?" I thought about his question. I stood, walked to the window and stared at the sky. "I knew it was a possibility. Ten years ago, John hears on the news that a gunman has killed twenty-five people from an elevated position and says, ‘I could see myself doing that, especially if you ever left me. I’d have nothing to live for.’ It was a threat, but one I knew in my soul he could accomplish.” I shivered. I couldn’t look at Agent Gray.

"I remember his grin. His self-satisfied nod, and his declaration, 'I could do it, and I would just to show you, you’ll never escape, and if you do. You’ll regret it until your dying day.'"

I wiped at the tears that seemed never-ending and caught the Agents eyes. "You tell me, did I know? Could I have stopped what happened based on that conversation ten years ago?"

Gray bowed his head. He couldn’t or wouldn’t look at me.

"If I’d reported him? Would you have listened?"



930 words / FCA

Yolanda Renée © 2018


~~*****~~

I wrote this a few months ago. I hate that it's a reality.
Please, Lord, Bless the children . . .




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In Too Deep
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Monday, August 14, 2017

WEP - REUNIONS "FIRST LOVE NEVER DIES"


The WEP is all about the prompt

and this month it was

REUNIONS

Did you take the challenge?

Just add your name to the list.

But if you're here just for the stories,

ENJOY!
DL after the name means 'direct link' to the story.







*********

FIRST LOVE NEVER DIES


Mathew taught me how to catch a football, and was Romeo to my Juliette in the school play, my first kiss, and my first love. Mathew became my friend in grade school and my lover in high school. When an opportunity to go to England for college arrived, he insisted I take it. For the first year, we tried maintaining a long-distance relationship but failed.

He met someone else, and I had to let him go. It was only fair. I’d left him. When I came home to bury my parents, I found that he’d not returned after college. No one knew where he was. And then the reunion committee sent out the invitations to our ten-year class reunion. I had to go. He might be there.



He was.

He caught my eye, and it was as though all those years between hadn’t occurred. His smile told me all was forgiven. Still the most handsome man in the room, all muscle, with deep blue eyes, and dark curly locks. He was just as I imagined, unassuming, funny, and sweet. I couldn’t believe I’d ever let him go. I hoped this time it would end differently.

“You never married?” I held his hand in mine. “Me neither.”

“How could I, you were living in another country.” Mathew grinned, and my heart melted.

“You do realize that air travel has been possible since the last century?”

He laughed. “I’m a pilot. I’d better be aware of that fact.”

I was impressed. I knew he graduated with an engineering degree, but I didn’t know he’d learned to fly a plane. “That’s wonderful, congratulations!”

“I’d love to show you the night sky. Would you fly with me?”

“I’d love to. When?”

“Now. I only came to this shindig to see you.” He squeezed my hand. “Ready to blow this popsicle stand for some adventure?”

“More than ready.” Those were the last words we’d said to each other the day he saw me off at the airport for my flight to England. Time stopped. The room disappeared. The music and noise faded as he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. Long and deep until I was breathless. Just like our last kiss, but this time, we left together.

His Piper Cub climbed into a purple sky with stars lighting the night like millions of shimmering LED lights. It was beautiful and romantic, a view that brought tears to my eyes. We floated through the air. Silent, and comfortable, exchanging sly glances. Emotions were high, the night was filled with possibility, promising passion, and love.

Mathew landed on a patch of land just south a small chalet in the Rocky Mountains.

“I’ve dreamed of bringing you here for years. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, but, where are we?”

“My home away from home. A place where we can have our own private reunion.”

“I’d like that,” I said as we walked hand in hand to his cabin. I was anxious but thrilled. This reunion couldn’t have been sweeter.

The cabin was an A-frame, with a view of the valley below. I assumed a forest surrounded the lake that reflected the stars above, and I imagined the mountains ahead and above us. It was lovely, I couldn’t wait to see it in the morning sunshine.



We went straight to his bed and made love in front of a fire. That night the reunion was physical, sensual, and more satisfying than anything I could’ve imagined.

“Can you stay?” he asked as I lay wrapped in his arms.

“I wish I could. I have an interview Monday morning. The job of a lifetime in Paris. Can you come with me? Is there anything holding you here?”

He pulled me close. “I’ll think on it. Now sleep, morning will be here soon.”

 After several hours, I awoke to a stranger. Mathew had secured me to the bed with handcuffs, blindfolded me, and proceeded to beat me viciously with a leather strap. I cried, screamed, whimpered, and begged him to stop.

He did, but not until my body was a mass of bleeding welts.

“Why? Please tell me why?”

“You made your choice ten years ago. Now I’ve made mine.”

“I don’t understand?”

“Neither did I.” Was all he said.

He left me alone, still handcuffed to the bed posts. Unable to move, I slept, cried, and screamed for release. I don’t know if he was there. Was I alone or was he watching?

That night, he returned. He threw me into the shower then he attacked again. He raped and stabbed me repeatedly. I prayed for death. But the God’s would not release me from hell. I passed out but awoke just as he threw me into a new hell hole. A cellar where women that looked like me had died. I counted ten in my search for safety as a storm broke overhead.

The smell of death was beyond reason, but decaying bodies, loss of blood, and a flooding grave meant the end will come soon. The winds howled, and the rain came down in sheets. Soon it was pouring into the chamber. I knew the grim reaper had lost patience. My blood mixed with the rising water and I wondered how long I could hold my breath.  I laughed instead and watched the water rise. The other bodies began to float in a macabre synchronized fashion as I realized that the man I’ve loved since the age of seven was a serial killer.

I’d created a monster?

***

The memory of that night will never leave me. Especially when Mathew came back for me. He lovingly stitched up my wounds and nursed me back to health.  Now, when he takes a new victim, I clean up the mess.

Mathew still doesn’t believe that I’d never leave him again. But each year he adds length to the chain around my ankle. Someday, I’ll earn his trust.

996/words

Yolanda Renee © 2017


Tuesday, June 20, 2017

WEP - BURNING BRIDGES



BURNING BRIDGES



          “Quit daydreaming!” A large crack sounded as pain registered across Heather’s back.

       “Sorry, Master.” Heather bowed despite the pain and hurriedly lifted another crate of canned goods onto the wagon. And then another and another until all the vegetables were loaded for market. Taking a deep breath, she added the final two crates of fresh goods. Fear and an intense need to please the master had her finishing in no time.

       “Loaded and secured, Master.” She knelt at his feet.

       “About time.” He jumped into the seat and grabbed the reins. “I’ve left a list of chores to keep your idle hands busy. The most important is the wedding dress. Finish it. Mr. Humphries paid a handsome price for your lazy hide, so make sure you’re ready.”

       “I will, Master.”

       “You will or you’ll marry naked. Make sure your room is cleared and ready for your replacement. She’ll return with me.”

       “Thank you, Master.” She bowed and kissed the dirty hem of his robe. “Please have a safe trip.”

       He snapped his whip. Heather flinched at the sound but watched his departure until he was out of sight and the dust cloud created by thundering hooves dissipated.

       Joy radiated from her toes to her fingertips as the Master’s distance grew. Bliss filled her soul. Her body swayed, and a song rose from her throat. Heather sang and danced until breathless, then sank to the ground and lay among the forget-me-nots.

“Have you decided?” a tiny voice asked. It came from a small body. Transparent wings vibrated faster than a hummingbird. The nymph flitted from flower to flower before settling on Heather’s knee as she sat up.

       “I’m not sure,” she told him.

       “What’? Are you daft? Either you cross the bridge to freedom or marry old man Humphrey and slop his swine until he decides to kill you.

       “Ethan, don’t be so dramatic.”

       “My best friend Bertrand saw it. He tried to intervene and lost both his legs because of it. I wouldn't lie to you.”

       “Nymphs are bewitchers – little devils.” She gazed at him through her eyelashes, embarrassment reddening her cheeks.

       “Master told you that?” The small nymph stood on her knee his hands on his hips, his wings still and glistening in the sunshine.

Heather nodded. She found the creatures’ bright blue eyes mesmerizing despite his ugliness and spindly limbs. He looked like a twisted twig, only his eyes and perfect white teeth were human in nature.

“Have I not healed the many wounds he’s inflicted or aided you when the chores became too much? Why do you question me?” He sat down in the lotus position on her knee cap. His arms crossed and his eyes wide and questioning.

She giggled. “You’re always so serious. The horrors you describe just can’t exist. The world is too beautiful.” She threw her arms open to the heavens.

“You would be concerned too if Master didn’t have you enthralled with black magic. Do you remember how you got here?”

“I’ve tried, but no. My only memories are of Master’s love for me.”

“Love? You call daily beatings love?”

“He says I’m a silly girl given to a restless mind. He’s right. I have daydreams. He took me in when I was homeless, and he’s given me everything.”

“The Master lies!” Ethan flew up from her knee in a huff and sprinkled her in sparkling dust. “REMEMBER!” He flew off in a blur.

Glittering remnants of the dust settled onto her exposed skin and then disappeared. Memories began flooding her mind. Recollections of another life, another place and time. A family. The mother she resembled, her adoring father, the sister who looked up to her. Even the wedding she’d planned to a handsome young man named Cody. But most surprising was her name – Logan Marshall, not Heather.

Her scream brought Ethan back. “Now do you see?”

“Where am I?” She looked at the world differently.

That doesn't matter, but if you follow me, I’ll show you how to get back to your life.”

“Show me.”

Ethan flew toward the forest, and Logan followed. The plowed fields were densely packed but easy to traverse. She stopped right before entering the dark forest.

“Why do you hesitate?”

“I’ve heard screams. Master says wild man-eating beasts live here.”

“Peacocks. This is my home. There’s nothing to fear!”

Logan looked back at the log cabin, the farm that had been her home, but memories of a family tugged at her. Hesitation vanished. She joined Ethan who waited just inside the foliage. He led the way to a clearing. The gorge opening yawned wide before them. The end of the road.

“Where’s the bridge?”

Ethan whistled and threw out more glittering dust. A bridge of fire appeared. “See, salvation.”

“Fire? No way!” She backed away.

“Blue flame is magic, cool.” Ethen flew through it. “See, move closer, you’ll feel no heat. You’re pure of heart. An innocent. Strip first, you have to leave everything from this world behind to make the journey.”

Logan stepped forward, and a mixture of blue, green and purple flames formed a solid looking bridge with massive girders. Instead of crackling the fire sounded like the flutter of hundreds of nymph’s wings. Ethan was right, she felt no heat.

She kicked off her shoes, removed her smock and underclothes, but hesitated.

“Go on, your family is waiting.”

She smiled and took the first step forward. “Thank you.”

“No problem, saving virgins is my calling.”

Logan’s eyes grew wide. “But I’m not . . .

Ethan laughed.

Logan screamed as the flames consumed her.

“I know. But each sacrifice brings me closer and closer to becoming a full demon and owning a kingdom of slave maidens of my own.” His skin turned red and horns popped out on his bald head.

970 words
© Yolanda Renée 2017

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Monday, December 19, 2016

WEP - MELTING SNOW


Judgement day for the winter ice challenge had arrived, and they were excited to learn if their favorites had won. Glenna had chosen the Dragon War, and David had picked the Angels in Flight. The winner would buy dinner at Anchorage's best restaurant, The Crow's Nest.
David told her the freshly fallen snow was the lure, but she knew that a proposal was his goal. Glenna was ready for the commitment. After all, they'd been together for over a year, and two people more suited didn't exist. They had similar goals, enjoyed all things outdoor, and they both agreed that love and family were the keys to success.
She'd met the handsome pilot on a flight she'd taken during a school training project. His knowledge and skill made the trip a success, and their first date left no doubt they had a future together. He'd cooked dinner for her over a campfire in the back yard of the cabin he'd built with his own hands. Fresh salmon, corn on the cob, new potatoes, and homemade blueberry ice cream. The way to a man's heart may be through his stomach, but for Glenna, his down-home cooking, adventure filled stories, and sense of humor had won her heart.
"Think twice, Sissy!" David shouted and threw the first snowball; just a handful of snow, but it caught Glenna by surprise.
"You're in trouble now," she yelled, but quickly gathered two handfuls and formed a perfect ball. She threw it, laughing and ducking at the same time. Their snowball fight lasted just minutes, but his concussion and subsequent coma would mar their future.
*****
Sissy, or Glenna Parks, as her friends knew her, rinsed her face with cold water, and stared at her reflection. Haggard looking after another sleepless night, she wondered how life could take such a sharp, sudden turn.
She'd just won the job of a lifetime and would be teaching history at the University of Alaska in Anchorage. David Carter, her beau, was about to pop the question, his recent inquiry the clue.
"How do you feel about antique jewelry?" he'd asked.
"I love all things with a history," she'd told him.
Life couldn't have been sweeter. She recalled his last kiss, confident that he was going down on one knee then. Instead, he gathered up a handful of snow and changed their lives forever.
Now he couldn't even recall her name. At first, he didn't know his own name, even denied being a pilot, claimed to be afraid of heights, and a Texan living in Alaska, not reality. The man who awoke from the coma was not the man who had slipped on the ice.
Dripping water reminded her of the blood she'd tried to staunch with their woolen scarves but to no avail. The paramedics hurried him away, and she followed. Glenna willed him back to consciousness, but she wasn't prepared for the hateful stranger who greeted her.
Now, a week later, a few memories had returned giving her hope that the rest would soon follow. Glenna wasn't sleeping, barely eating, and David's lack of recognition hurt on a level she didn't even know existed. Yesterday, he'd asked her to leave him alone.
"I don't need a stranger watching or commenting on my every move. Especially one with sad puppy dog eyes."
Hiding her tears, she left. Today she'd returned with an entire picture album of their adventures together, something to spark David's memory. She promised herself she would just drop it off, but when she arrived, he was asleep. She waited, watched, prayed, and eventually fell into a deep sleep herself.
Still holding his hand, she dreamed of the David she knew. The warmth and strength of him were as she remembered, but reality was waking in a sterile hospital room with spittle dripping from her open mouth. She rushed into the bathroom to revive herself. Gazing into the mirror, she vowed to recapture their happiness.
"Hey, beautiful. I was hoping you'd return for a visit," David said. The tone, the comment, hey beautiful, was pure David. Ready to answer, she dried her face, but someone else beat her to it.
"Hi, handsome. You look better. How are you feeling?"
Giggling.
"Oh my, you are feeling better!" The voice of the doctor who'd admitted him sounded too friendly, syrupy, and seductive.
"Except for an almost constant headache, pretty darn good, especially now that you're here!" David cooed.
Glenna listened. Their conversation wasn't the typical discussion between doctor and patient. They were flirting.
"Why don't you spring me from this place? I'll buy dinner?' David asked.
"First thing tomorrow morning. Dinner sounds wonderful, but I thought you were spoken for. What's her name? Glenda?"
"Glenna? No. No way, she's not my type. Believe me. We're just friends. I actually had to ask her to leave. I honestly hope she never comes back. That whiny voice of hers grates on the ears. Besides, what adult woman would ever accept Sissy as a nickname?"
"You sure you remember everything. What about the ring we found in your pocket?"
"Yeah, I know. The engagement ring was my mother’s. Dad sent it to me along with a few other mementos. That ring has nothing to do with Sissy."
The way he said her nickname hurt deep in her soul. It was meant to be something only they shared. Sissy was an endearment her grandfather used when she was younger, and David claimed for his own. No one else could call her Sissy.
 Glenna managed to leave the room without notice. The silhouette of their embrace on the curtain, then the sound of kissing assaulted her as she crept away. She dropped the picture album in the wastebasket and left the hospital just moments after a blizzard hit, but she didn't feel the Arctic chill, or the warm tears streaming from her eyes.
Nor did Glenna see the car that careened out of control due to the ice and snow.

Yolanda Renée © 2016
996 words / FCA


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Sunday, July 31, 2016

A NEW CHALLENGE





It's easy. It's simple and it's fun!

Prizes are awarded!

In the garden I tend to drop my thoughts here and there. To the flowers I whisper the secrets I keep and the hopes I breathe. I know they are there to eavesdrop for the angels. ~Dodinsky 




Thursday, July 14, 2016

TOO EASY

The Winner of Patrick Hatt's

MURDER HAS A PRICE
is
BLUE GRUMPSTER

CONGRATULATIONS!


*****

AND TODAY


Rochelle Wisoff-Fields 

Presents a flash fiction challenge 
write a complete story 
in 100 words or less.
·     Take your time
·     Proofread
·     Edit
·     Include photo prompt and InLinkz code
·     Post and Link your story URL
·     Reciprocate. Read 
and comment. 
It's half the fun!
MAKE - EVERY - WORD – COUNT




TOO EASY

"Like leading sheep to slaughter!" Greer laughed and threw another shovel of dirt.

Monkee-See-Do, the latest mobile app had inspired his technological but sociopathic mind. Greer had fashioned hacking magic, and now his victims came to him.

The grave covered, he took in his surroundings. The trees were greener and stood taller. Soon nutritious fresh grass would cover the ground. Greer had given his animals a cool and delicious place to graze.

He smiled. Monkee-See-Do now compensated him with a growing bank account and the solution for poor soil - the perfect fertilizer – the clueless with their heads up their asses.

Fiction 100 words
Yolanda Renée ©

***


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