April 11: Flash Fiction Challenge

Charli is back with her Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction prompt!

April 11, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story using the phrase “beggars can’t be choosers.” You can play with the words, alter them or interpret them without using the phrase. Give it any slant you want — show what it means or add to its  meaning. Go where the prompt leads!

Yesterday, I wrote a little flash for Sue Vincent’s prompt, introducing two new characters to me, Reena and Jay… today’s prompt just helped me add to their story! If you want to read the first bit, click here.

Reena and Jay Do Beans On Toast

It had been a long trek.
Those last three mile had really dragged but finally Reena and Jay arrived back at the campsite.
Kicking off her trainers, she sighed. What she wouldn’t give for a pedicure, long soak in a tub and a chilled glass of Prosecco…
“Reens, can you remember how this works?” Jay was fiddling with camping stove, so they could prepare the feast that was Beans on Toast.
He rummaged around in the food bags, found some cans of lager and tossed one over to her.
Not even chilled. Reena sighed again. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Decisions #writephoto

Sue’s #WritePhoto prompt this week:

Reena stumbled, grabbing hold of Jay’s jacket.

She hated all this walking. Jay had suddenly decided that their life had become stale, full of the same old social gatherings in the evenings and the same tired London venues, followed by mornings spent with serious headaches and hangover cures.

“We really need to get out more. Like out, out, you know.”

“Definitely Jay-by baby! There is this great new place that has just opened up in Knightsbridge. Everyone’s raving about it. Shall we try that?”

Jay looked at her. “I don’t mean dinner, you know. More like the Great Outdoors. We need to hike. Go camping or something. That kind of out.”

Reena recoiled internally, whilst beaming a cheesy smile at him. Camping? Her? Never!

However, Asha had mentioned glamping to her before. That she could manage. All of her creature comforts, and ample Insta moments…

“So, I booked a pitch for us. We’re off tomorrow morning! Make sure you pack your hiking boots and lots of layers hun. It’ll be a laugh!”

Right. She could do this. And Jay would never book them anywhere untoward. It always needed WiFi, and hot tubs, a decent bar and eaterie, and a huge bed.

Back to that stumble.

Reena’s feet were aching. Her Adidas Tubulars weren’t built for actual sports or walking, and they certainly didn’t look Insta-worthy anymore.

“Jay! Seriously, how much fur-” As she stumbled, she looked up and saw a cross. Oh My God! Where had he brought her? To some graveyard? Was she going to be sacrificed?

Jay’s arm went round her instinctively and he pulled her up. “Reena, honestly. It’s only a bit of walking. Do you ever stop moaning?”

“Now, I just need to work out which way we have to go to get back to the campsite.”

Campsite… huh! Reena rolled her eyes as she remembered where they were meant to be sleeping tonight.

He hadn’t been joking. There were no luxury yurts, powerpoints or even WiFi. She had had to help him put up a tent. A tent, for God’s sake! And she was sleeping in an actual sleeping bag too…

“Hang on, what do you mean ‘work out which way’? Are we lost? Jay!”

“Not lost… just a bit… disorientated. Ah, hang on, here’s a sign post.”

He walked up to the cross, which wasn’t actually one, and read the signs.

“There you are, only three miles that way. Come on Reens, we can be back before sunset, and then we can make our dinner. Love a bit of beans on toast! You do know how to use the camp stove, don’t you?”

Er, no. Reena had barely used their cooker in their fancy kitchen, and he thought she would be able to operate a camp stove? This was going to be a long, hungry weekend…

Next time, she was doing the bookings.

#writephoto

April 4: Flash Fiction Challenge – Fire

Charli at the Carrot Ranch, with her prompt for this week:

April 4, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about fire. It can be a flame that burns or a light that inspires. Follow the flames and go where the prompt leads!


Out Of The Frying Pan, Into The Fire


I sat at the bar, nursing my whiskey. Needed to be sensible. I couldn’t afford to be reckless with my drink again.
I hadn’t meant to leave the barbeque unattended, but after a few drinks with my guests, I forgot it, and turned to see the flames licking the sky.
Gina wasn’t planning on letting me back in the house. I had to keep my cool, give her a few hours, then I’d go back, and she’d forgive me.
But would she?
I threw the fiery liquid down my throat in a single gulp.
“Bartender, another one please.”
 

March 28: Flash Fiction Challenge – Eminence

Charli’s prompt this week:

March 26, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that uses the word eminence. It’s a rich word full of different meanings. Explore how it sounds or how you might play with it. Go where the prompt leads!

Feeling Like A Fraud

“Jill, could you just glance over this, please?”

Nancy thrust a piece of paper in Jill’s hand.

“I’d really appreciate your opinion. Would you mind?”

“Sure, why not.”

Jill smiled and turned around, surreptitiously rolling her eyes.

Ever since her book had been released and had shot to the top ten in the charts, she’d been inundated with ‘friends’ who wanted her advice on their writing. It’s like her eminence in word craft meant she was now a fully-fledged expert.

But that was furthest from the truth.

All she’d done was write from the heart.

And readers had appreciated.

March 21: Flash Fiction Challenge – Bucket

Charli’s 99-word fiction prompt:

March 21, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that features a bucket of water. What is the condition of the water and what is the bucket for? Drop deep into the weel and draw from where the prompt leads! u.


The Big Leak

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Colin lay on the bed, trying his hardest to sleep but the incessant dripping noise was keeping him from his beauty sleep.

He’s already emptied the bucket, just before going to bed, though it sounded like it would be full of more rainwater before long, and he’d have to dispose of it again.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was typical that a leak had to spring now, during the rainiest of seasons, with a hurricane brewing, when no roofer was willing to risk his life to patch up a few shingles on his roof.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

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