Category: Flash Fiction

Iced Latte – What Pegman Saw

Iced Latte

It was 2:45 PM and he was early.  He took a tall iced latte and sat away from the door.  Sitting carefully, he straightened the legs of his freshly cleaned khaki pants.

Flipping through his phone he looked again at her photo.  Pretty, outdoorsy and her profile said she owned her own company.

Looking down again at his pants, he reflected on how many khakis he owned.  Six or seven pairs at least.  It was part of his ‘uniform’.  Each internet date he went on, he dressed the same and always ordered an iced latte. If the date quickly went south, he would cleverly spill the coffee in his lap and make an excuse to leave.

Lost in his thoughts he didn’t see her arrive. She introduced herself and he said “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”  She replied, “Yes I own the dry cleaners on the corner”

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

150 words

In response to What Pegman Saw Photo Prompt – Portland, Oregon

Vision in Blue – Flash Fiction

Vision in Blue

He couldn’t believe his eyes.  It was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. He was in the middle of a forest and the floor was covered in beautiful flowers. There were deer gamboling through the trees and he could hear music.

Walking slowly towards him was a beautiful girl.  Barefoot and draped in a blue dress, a vision of loveliness. Beautiful flowers were in her hair, a stag at her side and she was playing a wooden flute or whistle. He was mesmerized by the sight and sounds. 

As she came closer he stood motionless in a stupor, hypnotized by the scene.

He said to himself in a whisper, ‘Man, these drugs are good.’

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

116 Words

In response to Fandango’s Flash Fiction Photo Challenge

The Drop – Songxicun, China

The Drop – Songxicun, China

The covert message had been decoded.

Friday 16:30: Songxicun, Water Pump.

She arrived early and the square was empty. It was difficult for her to blend in to the surroundings so she stepped into a doorway and waited.

Her contact was late.  When he arrived, she watched him stop and light a cigarette. Drawing on it slowly and inhaling. He looked around and then dropped to tie his shoe.  She watched him tuck something into the wooden box next to the water pump. He stood up, flicking the cigarette away, and left hurriedly.

Looking around she saw an old woman approaching the pump with two pails on a pole balanced across her shoulders.  She waited patiently until it was clear.

Finally, the old woman left and the square was empty again. Quickly, with her heart pounding, she retrieved the small package from the box and disappeared from sight.

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

148 words

In response to What Pegman Saw – Photo Prompt – Songxicun, China

The Baths at Virgin Gorda, BVI

The Baths at Virgin Gorda, BVI

She had risen early, taking advantage of her last day on Virgin Gorda in the British Virgin Islands.  She wanted to go to the Baths before it got crowded with tourists and enjoy the relaxing pools between the enormous rocks.  There was a certain energy in the quiet sanctuary of the water and a calming atmosphere.

The sun was barely above the horizon when she removed her clothes. Leaving them on the rocks she waded into the crystal-clear pools.  The water was refreshing and she dipped below the surface feeling the sensual shock as it consumed her body.  With eyes closed she let herself drift underwater for a few moments holding her breath.  As she attempted to surface, she realized she was wedged between two boulders and could not raise her head above the water to breathe.  She was trapped and no one was there to save her.


Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

148 words

In response to What Pegman Saw – Photo Prompt, Virgin Gorda, BVI

Word Prompts:

Sanctuary

Barely

Go with the Flow

Go with the Flow

Love flows like the river
Meandering slowly
and raging rapidly 
Over life’s obstacles
Along the way attracting
insignificant annoyances
and heated arguments
Latching on like barnacles
 
In its wild torrent 
it will break your strength
and splinter hope
Leaving memories that sting
When it is calm and still
At its deepest point
That is where the love is strong
and this is where to cling
 
Unimportant disagreements
Never forgotten in the wake of pain
No longer instrumental
or helpful to your endeavor
Inconsequential debates
and endless contention
Meaningless now
Because love is forever
 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Splinter

River

Instrumental

Memories

Photo by kazuend on Unsplash

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Night Sky

Night Sky

Orion straddles the sky
His belt twinkling
In the darkness
Lighting the way
With stars sprinkling

The cheesy moon
Has passed
The halfway mark
A shadow of his smile
Slightly visible in the dark

The stars scattered
Across the expanse, winking
So silent is the night
Giving us pause to wonder
With wishful thinking

The nightly performance
Ensorcelled us with its splendor
The tryst between the stars and moon
A match made in heaven
Magnificent beauty it did render

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Ensorcell

Tryst

 

Photo by Arnold Dogelis on Unsplash

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Neighbor

Neighbor

The nondescript neighbor across the street moved today.  Sam saw the moving truck leaving the house as he came home.  He never remembered her name.  In fact he had barely had a conversation with her, other than the cursory “Good morning” if they happened to leave their respective houses at the same time.  It was awkward.  There was something about her that he just couldn’t put his finger on.  She was very attractive but was haughty and aloof.

The first time he met her was when Tom, his neighbor next door, had introduced her the day she moved in to number 2024.  Sam had attempted a friendly inquiring conversation with a “Welcome to Westbrook!  Where are you moving from?”

She had stared at him and he noticed her eyes were a deep cerulean blue. She seemed startled, but recovering quickly she became closed off, almost cold, and made almost no more  eye contact. She offered an excuse and said she was busy with the move and that was that.  Tom and Sam looked at each other and shrugged.  Since that day she had made no friends with anyone as far as he knew.  She kept herself private and non-communicative.

Sam used to joke with the other neighbors that she was likely in the Witness Protection Program or she was on the run from the police.  He couldn’t recall one time when she had attempted to make conversation.

She never attended any of the neighborhood social parties and always kept her porch light off on Halloween so the children never went near her house.  One year the kids tricked her instead and toilet papered her front yard.  No one knew whose kids were responsible and they pretty much left her to clean it up by herself.  Sam felt a little bad about driving off to work the following morning seeing it there but he had a meeting to attend.  When he returned home it was all gone and he assumed she had cleared it up herself or got someone to do it.  He never gave it another thought.

“So she moved out then.” Sam said to Tom who was out in his front yard. He continued, “I sure hope we get someone a lot nicer moving in.  She was a cold witch, don’t you think?”

Tom replied.  “I don’t know about being a witch.  She was never nasty to any of us.  She was just private, you know”

“I guess.” said Sam as he headed to his front door. “See you later Tom”

As Sam put his key in the lock, he looked down and saw a box with an envelope taped to it.  It had his name on it.

He took it into the house and placed it on the kitchen table wondering what it might be.  It was a handwritten envelope and no marking on the box so UPS hadn’t delivered it.

He opened the envelope, which held a card.  He read it.

Dear Sam,

I know you and I have never really had a conversation but I have watched you daily for the past year. 

When I was introduced to you on that day I moved in, you lit a fuse in my heart.  I cannot explain it.  It was incredible and the feeling was very strong, like I had met you before or I had known you in some other life.  I wanted desperately to get to know you but it would not have been fair

I had no close family, having divorced several years ago, and no children.  I was looking for a fresh start somewhere when I got the crushing news.  I was told I was dying and the doctors had given me one year at best. I had already chosen this house before I knew of my illness. I thought it would be a wonderful neighborhood to make new friends. I’m sure it was but I never wanted to be a burden on anyone so I kept my prognosis to myself.

I wish I had known you in this life.  I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

See you next time around. 

Lori Cooper

Sam felt quite shaken as he put the letter down.  She had died. He was overcome with sadness.  Why hadn’t he tried harder to get to know her? He opened the box and inside was a smaller box in which was a gold heart on a chain.

On a small card it said…

“You stole my tender heart on the day I met you but I had to take it back. I leave you this in its place…L”

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Neighbor

Nondescript

Fuse

Tender

Cerulean

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

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Lucia

Lucia stared through the window of the beautiful restaurant.  It was 3:00pm and her interview was at 3:15 pm.

This was a big step up from her family’s restaurant in the Bronx.  The Italian Trattoria where everyone from the neighborhood would come. Her grandparents, immigrants from Sicily, had opened the restaurant in the 1930s. Lucia, her parents and three brothers were all recruited into the business. There was no escaping it.   She was the youngest but she became the face of the restaurant.  Her siblings were content to be at the back of the house in the kitchen, but she had always been pushed front and center by her parents and all the patrons knew her. They had known her since she was a child filling their water glasses on a Sunday afternoon.  It had always been this way.  It became known as Lucia’s Bistro.

Now she was a grown woman and had outgrown the family restaurant.  She was ready to spread her wings to the Upper East Side. Understanding all aspects of the restaurant business this was her chance to see how the other side lived.

She entered the restaurant and confidently introduced herself to the Maître d’

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

(199 words)

In response to: Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner Week #32

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The Old Tower

It was an easy amble along the cliff top until they could see the old tower standing majestically overlooking the cove.

As they approached, the ruins of the old abbey came into full view and the memory of childhood adventures came rushing back, like a tidal wave, into Joanna’s mind.  They were such happy times.  It was always the three of them.  Joanna, Mindy and Steven.  The Three Musketeers – all for one, one for all.  They had been inseparable.  Mindy looked at Jo and they both smiled, knowing each other’s thoughts as if they were their own.  It had always been that way.

The large oak door to the tower was noticeably open as they scrambled up the hill.  The wind whipping their long hair around their faces making it hard to see where they were going and the sun was bright in their eyes.

They could make out a silhouette in the doorway.  At first glance Mindy thought it was Steven and called out his name. There was no response.  As they got closer they could see that it wasn’t. A man, probably around the same age as Steven was smiling at them in a friendly, welcoming way.

“Hello there” he said, holding out his hand.  “My name is Charles Webster and I represent the owner of this property”

Joanna and Mindy stopped in their tracks, surprised and confused.

“What?” Said Joanna.  “I…. l don’t understand”

She continued, “The ruins, and the land it is on, is owned by the village”

“Yes, that’s right”, blurted out Mindy.  “Do you have some identification?

Charles Webster, Solicitor, produced his business card.

“What is going on here?”  Said Mindy. “Are you some kind of shark?”

“This property has been owned by the village of Glen Cove for three centuries.  It would never be sold”

“I’m sorry but it has” Charles Webster contradicted her.

Both Joanna and Mindy were beginning to be visibly upset.  This was supposed to be a happy reunion of the three childhood friends at their most cherished place.  They had played on the ruins of the old abbey for many summers, pretending and dreaming.  Living out fantasies of damsels in distress calling from the top of the tower to the gallant knight down below.  Other times, Steven pretending to be Friar Tuck and the girls taking turns at being Maid Marian or Robin Hood.

Joanna walked away and was silent for a long time.  These were the happiest times of their lives and most likely whoever had purchased the property would raze everything to the ground and build some obnoxious looking, oversized house dominating the coastline.  How could this happen without them knowing?  Why hadn’t their families or someone in the village let them know what was going on?  She realized sadly the only thing that is inevitable is change and if that was the way it was going to be, there was nothing they could do about it.

She walked back to where she had left Mindy and the Solicitor.  “Ok”, said Joanna eventually to Charles Webster.  “Who exactly do you represent?”

At that moment, the large oak door was pulled open and Steven stepped out.

“Surprise!” He said gleefully.  The girls stood there mouths open in shock.

Steven continued, “There was no way this wonderful place was ever going to be sold to a developer.  The village needed the cash and I made sure they got it and their history and our memories are preserved.”

“Charlie and I had you going there for a while didn’t we?” he said wickedly, winking at his friend.  Typical of Steven

The three old friends hugged each other and through their tears of joy they chimed.

“All for one, one for all”

Christine Bolton

Multiple Word Prompts today…..Phew!

Rag Tag Community: Open

Daily Word Prompt: Noticably

Word of the Day Challenge: Amble

Scotts Daily Prompt: Friendly

Fandango One Word Challenge: Memory

Haunted Wordsmith 3 Things Challenge: Tower, Tidal Wave, Shark

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What’s up with that?

 

After two months in the new city, Lisa was feeling more confident about her job and had settled in her apartment.  She was getting used to her surroundings but now it was time to get out there and meet some people.  Someone she worked with had said there was an organization called MeetUp and she could easily find many groups locally to join other like-minded souls.

She looked online and found there were several organized events for walking, book clubs, Spanish conversation and something called SUP.  They met every Saturday afternoon at 4:00 pm by the bridge.

“Hmmm…that sounds interesting”, she thought to herself as she pondered the list of activities offered by MeetUp.  “What the heck is SUP?”  It said you could bring your own but they could help you if you needed a SUP.

It had to be a pub-crawl or something like that she thought.  You SUP beer right?  Maybe it was like a BYOB and you could bring your own beverage.

She thought this would be a great way to meet some new people socially and having a drink or two would make her feel more confident.  Take the edge off.

She signed up online stating she would participate and she would bring her own SUP.

Saturday came and Lisa filled her small cooler with a bottle of wine, two glasses, some snacks and a 6 pack of beer.  She was looking forward to this MeetUp.  It would be a great social occasion.

She arrived at the meeting place by the bridge and introduced herself to the others assembling there.  They were a good cross section of people but they were all wearing swimwear.  She felt a little awkward, as she had done her hair and make up and was wearing new clothes to impress.  She didn’t realize it was going to be a swim party.

She found the leader of the group and made herself known.  He said cheerfully, “Welcome Lisa, where’s your SUP?”  She pointed to her cooler and he looked at her quizzically.  She added, “I brought both wine and beer.”

He took in her sophisticated look, the clothes and the cooler and said, “Yes, I see you are prepared for something, but where is your Stand Up Paddleboard?”

Christine Bolton

In response to Linda Hill’s Saturday Prompt: Sup

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