Flash Fiction
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This week’s writing prompt at Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner is the image below. They found Tommy’s bike that following spring, when the snow began to melt. They never did find Tommy, though.
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There were bows and flaming arrows; whooping, and wailing. Then, someone yelled, “Circle the wagons!” So, I grabbed a stick and drew a circle in the dirt ‘round ‘ol Bessie. (Rather silly of me, looking back). Alas! The cause of our demise was merely a question of semantics. The Daily Post
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The Daily Post The air is hot, dense, and toxic, I feel my lungs boiling then shriveling. The lace curtains my grandmother made sparkle and flash like fireflies, then disintegrate. A smoldering pillowcase Scorches the bedspread as the flames take over, buckling the door and wrinkling the walls. Everything is screaming.
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“This is where we used to play when I was a boy, Amber.” “Play what, Grampa? I didn’t think they had Bubble Witch Saga or Wi-Fi back then.” “Soccer, Amber. We physically played soccer.” ThreeLineTales
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I was always on your side, taking-up for you— right or wrong. We were a team. Then, I found out about your secret draft choice (Ms. Irrelevant?) Illegal Touching Interference Out of Bounds Now it’s all about Team Susan. Still wanna play ball? The Daily Post
Ergo, the Ogre 