Directions: Write a scene or an entire story of 100 words on the nose (no more, no fewer), inspired by this photograph. No judging. All fun. (Normal Flash! Friday guidelines regarding content apply.)
Don’t forget to add your Twitter handle & link to your blog, pretty please.
And a few words on how your week’s going would be so very marvelous!
This week’s Warmup Wednesday challenge: Make your protagonist an animal (real or imagined).
Leash Fen in mist. CC2.0 photo by Andrew Hill.
Flash! Friday 
Missed Fox
The two red tails scoot through the underbrush likes angry squirrels.
“Wait up. Wait up for me,” one pleads with the other, the faster by far of the two.
“You lumber like the great ox, Rudy. I will die of old age before you ever catch up.”
“And you will sink away into the bog if you are not careful.”
“You listen too much to the old humans and their stupid fears. They prefer their beds to freedom.”
“Leash Fen will swallow you whole. Be careful.”
“Bushwaaaaaaaa! ”
And the surviving red tail went the long way around.
100 foxtails
@billmelaterplae
http://www.engleson,ca
2 days in to a 5 day writing workshop.
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Good read with an Aesop Fables touch..
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actually, its @billmelaterplea
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Hidden
(100 words)
You shouldn’t have stopped to smell the flowers. You should have kept hiking. I’ve followed you for kilometers, slinking among the trees and shrubs. Soon the time will come.
A few times I was careless, my hunger overpowering my senses. A couple snapped twigs reverberating through the forest made you stop and look around, but you never saw me. You even picked up the pace a bit, but the serenity of Mother Nature slowed you down and dulled your wits.
I’m out here in the fog, hidden from you. My fangs are waiting to sink into your soft, supple throat.
My week’s going well. I’ve been doing some renovations to my house and finished the electrical wiring, which was frustrating and rewarding at the same time. I guess it’s a success because I haven’t burned the house down in the process!! But I think this weekend is going to involve a bit of fishing instead of renos.
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Creeeeepy!
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Very evocative, I could almost see a little girl with a red hood.
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A Little Longer (100 words)
Dear Fog, can you wait a little longer. The cold feels good and I want to gaze on the flowers a little longer. Onyi wants to leave, but she likes flower-gazing, so if you stay, she’ll tarry a little longer.
Yesterday, we danced in the meadow, which brought joy that I wished could last a little longer. I’m three, not dead yet, and should be content with that, but I just want to live, with happiness, a little longer.
Alade likes sparrow for dinner, but he’s lazy: while you’re here, dear Fog, he’ll stay on his bed a little longer.
@ifemmanuel
https://ifenihinlola.wordpress.com/blog/
Week: Just earned the freedom to read to my heart’s content. Looking forward to Friday.
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Cool story!!
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Nice. I could see the birds dancing among the flowers protected by the fog.
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Be Afraid
(100 words)
I am the mist that swallows up daylight, the fog that frightens at night, the grey upon grey of murky days. They write about me as if I lived. They fear me as if I hunted. They avoid me if at all possible and hurry through my cold clammy embrace when they cannot. In their fear I live, move and have my being. Without it, I can’t survive. So be afraid, be very afraid of the mist that swallows up daylight, the fog that frightens at night, the grey upon grey of murky days. I am the animal of nightmares.
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Ooooh. That rocked! So creepy
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The Generations to Come
by Allison K. Garcia, 100 words, @ATheWriter
The bathroom tile cooled Samuel’s feet as he stared out the window into the crisp, foggy morning. He often spent time each day, gathering his thoughts and preparing for the journeys the day might bring.
Lost in his ponderings, he failed to notice the movement in his peripheral. THUD. The offending object, a gray sneaker he’d passed when he made his web. He scrambled directionless before another thud finished him.
His cry echoed in a frequency only heard by his people. The thousands of his people. And soon they and their generations to come would one day get their revenge.
***********************************
True story, this is a fear I actually have when killing insects. Ever since a child, I felt if I killed one, it’s family (or ancestors) would come to get me. Probably a combination of learning about reincarnation and being from an Italian family from NJ.
Well, I’ve been writing again, so that’s great! I won Most Poignant last Friday! And I have an idea for a story for a writing contest. Gonna work on that today! 🙂 Wish me luck!
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Spiders are creepy and I avoid killing any if I can. What if I was born a spider next birth 😳. Well written!
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Thanks! I was inspired by killing a centipede this morning. ..yuck!
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You are not the only one who has that fear. It could totally happen…maybe. Great story. And good luck!
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I really liked this – at first I thought Samuel was a human so the twist was very nice!
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Yay! That’s what I was going for!
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Arachnophobia here we come. 🙂 Well done.
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@firdausp
GAME
(100words)
He munched on the juicy green leaves, oblivious to the fact that the other deer had moved on. Usually alert, today he concentrated more on eating.
A rustle in the bushes had his ears twitching, nostrils flaring, teeth exposed in mid chewing action, green blood of the leaves staining them. He watched a wild lizard slide away. He continued tearing and munching.
Suddenly, he was off, springing, sprinting-dashing through the thick foliage for dear life!
The tiger chased him for a while, then gave up-the deer was too quick. Looking around he spotted another careless one. Game on!
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I like the green blood of the leaves
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Thankyou for reading. I like that too!
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An interesting read Firdaus. Well done. I feel I can almost touch this deer. I can see it’s mannerisms so clearly through your writing.
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Thankyou! I’m glad you liked it.
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Great story, I’m glad it wasn’t game over.
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Thankyou for reading. The game is always on in the jungle. 😊
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Reblogged this on Chica Creativa and commented:
I wrote mine! Add yours!
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Feedback
Fox: “Seriously. Red tails?”
Writer: “Just a dab of creative license.”
Fox: “And why me?”
Writer: “Oh, Merry Older England, fox hunts and such, I suppose.”
Fox: “Oh that’s rich. You know, some of us are trying to put that all behind us. It brings up a lot of unpleasant memories.”
Writer: “Did I mention hounds or hunting in my bit?”
Fox: “No, I’ll give you that. However, what was with the bushwaaaaa?”
Writer: “I like the work, bushwa.”
Fox: “Let me tell you about bogs. They suck slowly.”
Writer: “Good to know.”
Fox: And speaking about sucking slowly…”
100 regrets
@billmelaterplea
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LoL. I could see Fox 1 warning Fox 2 about the bush just before falling into the bog.
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Thanks. Flash fiction is so quick smetimes that you’re protected from getting bogged down.
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I Will Find You
(100 words)
I am your best friend. I will find you.
It must be horrible, being out there all alone. Your heart must be racing as the fog is surrounding you, obscuring the landmarks that could have guided you home. Soon it will be night, and all manner of hideous creature will emerge from your imagination. You will begin to run, terror nipping at your heels, driving you deeper into the woods. The wind will whisper terrible things in your ear as the forest swallows you. Most people disappear forever in the dark.
However, I have your scent. I will find you.
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I loved the intensity of this – great job!
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Nice imagery. Actually brought to mind the picture of a scared rabbit and the twitching nose of their friend searching for them.
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Your End is Near
(100 words)
@agardana09
The shot fired. I saw it from across the field, blasting into her side and ending her movement forever. I watched as the light withdrew from her eyes, the only eyes that ever shined when they glanced upon me. The only eyes I ever loved.
The curl of hatred entered my soul immediately, bringing the mist with it. With each of my haggard breaths the temperature cooled, the sky grayed.
The hunter would not make it out of this wilderness alive. A bolt of lightning fragmented the gray sky with my grief. The wind picked up speed and I pounced.
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Very touching take as many animals do mate for life.
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Thanks! 🙂
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@fs_iver
WC: 100 en punto
Elegy for the Lady of the Garden
We thought we’d lost you.
Still was the earth, unturned by your hands of vein on bone. The bulbs begged for relief as weeds, opportunistic and self-orbiting, sucked away their nutrients.
We burrowed and tucked our way through hardening halls, wondering if you, our light, would ever return. Despairing as dirt froze to stone, our microscopic memories nearly spent, we moved through land no longer tended. Was this winter? Had the lady of the garden gone forever?
Just when roots and hopes were dry, you came back. No box. Naked, as you instructed.
To the last, your heart feeds us.
~
This week started out rough but it’s getting better. The sun is beautiful and we’re that much closer to my husband coming home. 🙂
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Diet
It’s an absolute lie that turtles don’t eat pumpkins. A complete myth.
As a turtle, Shivago couldn’t help to take it personally when he saw a single leaf of lettuce on his small ceramic plate. Every single day. It was an insult. He started fantasizing about keeping his owner locked in a room, feeding her nothing but mud or grass or wet sticks.
Of course that was not a healthy thought and Shivago knew it. He had to leave.
The door was open, a cracked opportunity.
Shivago slowly ran towards freedom.
The pumpkins were surely out there, waiting for him.
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I loved this delightful bit of fantasy. A sort of Alice in Wonderland feel.
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Thanks!! It´s the first time I´m trying the challenge, your comment means a lot
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Why Ground Squirrels Left the Trees
100 words
(Inspired by your jabberwocky jaunt, above)
@rowdy_phantom
The fog thing comes. Scritch-scratch the tree trunks. Rustle-rush whip-dry grass.
Chitter and chat and roll our forage into hidey hollows like any a day. Like we don’t know. The mists creep crest and dale. Danger a dream-span from dire. Only the bitty-bobs peep-weep. Too wee to ken a deke.
The mothers a-work at grass and ground. Above we mime time the trees. Nut and seed all our critter concern. Acorn-cram cheeks, flash tail. While mother paws plow apart danger-urge of up! Up!
Must burrow down, now. Down windy deep so fog teeth mulch-chomp and howl empty.
Then, we win.
—-
Summer time! A lot of time at pools and parks and trying to get the squid napping without nursing (since it’s so many ways obvious that she still needs it, as does her mother). She started her first dance class, hiphop for tots, and it is every bit the thirty minutes of adorability-overload-with-a-beat that the name implies.
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Magic, your words are just magic.
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Thanks! That’s nice of you to say.
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Folly
100 Words
cleveroldowl.wordpress.com
Coyote stumbled through the fog, favouring his right rear leg.
The sky pushed down, making the air heavy, thick and hard to breath. Everywhere he went, he was enveloped by that sickly sweet smell. Somewhere in the distance, voices cried out.
The crows lifted from their branches and flew all together away from him. He stopped under a now vacant tree, and licked at his wound. His tongue come away not red, but black, and with the taste of coming winter.
Coyote circled about to flatten the grass, and used what he had left to give a short, proud howl.
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Reblogged this on Spec-Fic Motley and commented:
My entry to this week’s for-fun challenge:
Why Ground Squirrels Left the Trees
The fog thing comes. Scritch-scratch the tree trunks. Rustle-rush whip-dry grass.
Chitter and chat and roll our forage into hidey hollows like any a day. Like we don’t know. The mists creep crest and dale. Danger a dream-span from dire. Only the bitty-bobs peep-weep. Too wee to ken a deke.
The mothers a-work at grass and ground. Above we mime time the trees. Nut and seed all our critter concern. Acorn-cram cheeks, flash tail. While mother paws plow apart danger-urge of up! Up!
Must burrow down, now. Down windy deep so fog teeth mulch-chomp and howl empty.
Then, we win.
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Game of Foxes
100 words
https://themomwhoruns.wordpress.com
@sara_tranum
“Hedge!” A single howl shattered the stillness of the fog.
“Hog!” A chorus of voices howls replied.
“Hedge!” The single howl had grown closer to three who crouched behind several thin tree trunks.
“Hog!” The howls were shriller as the red-haired fox padded quietly closer. Two began to attempt escape, taking steps away, but rustled the grass.
The hunter lifted his head, eyes closed and ears perked, flicking back and forth. “Hedge!”
“Hog!” Only one remained behind the trees. Her stealthy litter mate moved with silent paws, catching another’s tail in his mouth.
“Gotcha!”
“Darn it, Griffin! You win again!”
***
Hard to believe it’s Wednesday. Haven’t gotten too much writing done…lots of mommy-and-me time with the 4 yo ahead of the new one’s arrival. Have a great one!
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THE SPIDER AND THE BUG (100 words)
Mist blanketed the forest—Lilly the spider sat hungry and motionless in her web—the remains of yesterday’s dinner dangled from one corner. She watched a moving speck in the distance. It flew closer and circled the web.
“ Please be my friend,” said the spider to the bug. “I’m so lonely.”
“You might eat me. I’m scared,” said the bug.
“Oh, no, you’re my friend.”
Sassy, the bug, settled on the web. “I’m here my friend.”
“Coming dear. I knew you’d see it my way,” she said raising her fangs.
“Not so,” said the Assassin bug biting the spider.
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