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Doodles and Scribbles

Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul

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Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner

Surprise no more

188-01-january-1st-2017wine.pngSurprise no more
General Fiction

“Rose! Duck!” Jade shouted before vanishing into the bushes.

Rose, innocently, searched the surrounding for ducks to find nothing but the winter air. “There’s nothing here, Jade.”

“Not that one, you silly.” Jade’s voice faded into a whisper, then she pointed at the one and only quaint house in 6th street. “Come here.  Look—lights!”

Rose comically crawled to hide behind the bushes and tried to take a peak. The lights are indeed turned on inside. She could see flickering, colourful lights from the glass window but the house had been empty for a long time. Could there be a burglar?

“Are those Christmas lights?” Jade gingerly moved close to the house. “There’s smoke from the chimney, too!”

“Jade, this smell…” Rose stopped in midair, eyes closed. “Cake.”

Both eyes widened in realization. “Cheese cake!” They shouted in chorus.

“She’s home!!” Jade couldn’t hide her excitement.

“She’s baaaack!!” Rose ran towards the door.

Bell rang and the door flung open. “Mariaaaaaa!!!”

A woman in her sixties with an unmistakable beauty welcomed Rose and Jade with a warm smile. “Argh! You got me. I’m supposed to surprise you two. Happiest New Year, girls!! How are my two favourite angels?”

Word Count: 198

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.


Written for Roger’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner and Al’s Sunday Photo Fiction.

Happiest new year, everyone!! It’s been a loooooong hiatus for me and I’m glad to be back here at blog-o-sphere. I’ve missed you and your posts! Please do bear with me. I will be hoping onto your sites in a while. Special shoutout to my two favourite girls, Rosema of A Reading Writer and Jade of Jade M. Wong. *kisses*

Enjoy more stories here:

FFftPP

SFP

Madman

lantern
https://pixabay.com/en/lantern-old-lantern-brush-sack-316689/

Madman
A Suspense Story

Dusk slowly rolled in as Milo walked along the Osmeña trail, nicely stacked twigs hung above his shoulders. Then he saw a lone figure stumbling into a dingy shack. He wouldn’t have minded it but this eerie-looking cabin had been empty for a very long time—until now. Intrigued, he ran in confused haste towards it.

At the threshold of the shack, he could barely hear hushed voices. With heart beating fast, he shuffled to the nearest windowsill and saw the most maddening scene there is. Inside the cluttered, blood-stained room was a man slumped in a heap of grimy clothes. Cradled in his arms was a limp, mangled body of a blindfolded woman.

“Didn’t you bring a shovel?” the man asked.

“I thought you brought one!” a silhouetted man answered.

“You dim-witted fool!” The man gasped in exasperation. “How could you bring a paintbrush and forget the shovel? What are you supposed to do? Paint this shack red?”

“I’m supposed to paint it with her blood.”

“You’re a madman.”

The man in the shadows motioned to face the window where Milo was peering and there he saw the most sinister smile he’d ever seen. “That, I am.”

Word Count: 198

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.


Written for Roger Shipp’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. A sentence is provided and we are to craft a story to under 200 words length.

This week’s prompt is: “Didn’t you bring a shovel?”  

Enjoy more stories here:

Barbecues and beer

rocks
https://pixabay.com/en/nature-shapes-england-trees-316781/

Two-one-five, what are your coordinates? A muffled voice came from his earpiece.

“Gorgeous.” Dan thought as he marveled the scenic lands of England. He was flying Nighthawk 40,000 feet above the ground, a beauty designed to fly stealthily and undetected in the radar.

Two-one-five, what are your coordinates?

Slowly, he descended to make out of the silvers, browns, and greens below. Trees towered over the shadowy mountains as rivers threaded the verdant lands, cluster of rocks looked like mere dots protruding from the earth. Dan couldn’t help but think of barbecues and beer during sunset. A lovely lady would be charming too, he added.

Agent two-one-five-

“Damn! Julio, stop shouting!” he yelled, taking the earpiece off and turning on the speaker.

Man, where in hell have you been?

“I heard you.” He answered blankly.

You heard me and? Where are you Danny? Talk.

“I was just… sightseeing. ETA to France, 13:00.”

Damn. Don’t you think this isn’t the time for sightseeing? Retrieve the microchip and return to the safe house. Those are the directions.

Danny sighed, looking down at the grassy terrain. “I’m getting old for this shit, Jules. I need barbecues and beer.”

And sunsets and women, my friend!

Word Count: 200


Written for Roger Shipp’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. A sentence is provided and we are to craft a story to under 200 words length.

Enjoy more stories here:

Sunrise & Sunsets

ocean

“Stop saying, ‘It’s just the circle of life’, because life has always been more than a mere series of events that ends at the point at which it began.”

Malcolm stared confusedly, his girlfriend’s sermon stirring chaos to his mind. “English, please?”

Dana rolled her eyes, faking frustration, and leaned her head onto his shoulder. “What I’m saying is, life may be a cycle but it does not repeat itself precisely. The sun goes up and down but each day is different.”

“Just as the waves kiss the shores but each kiss is unique.” He added.

She smiled, knowing exactly where this trick would lead. “You’re not getting a kiss if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Malcolm jerked and he’s suddenly one bended knee in front of her. “Not even chance? Not—

“No.” She interfered, enjoying his exaggerated puppy eyes.

—even when I tell you the sun rises and sets knowing how much I love you but each day I love you a little more? He continued, taking out a ring from his pocket.

“Oh no!” She gasped.

“Oh yes…” He held out the gold band engraved with her name. “Dana, will you watch all sunrise and sunset with me forever?

Word Count: 200


Written for Roger Shipp’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. Photo credit goes to Pixabay.

This week’s prompt is: “Stop saying ‘It’s just the circle of life’…” 

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Slacker Droid

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http://publicdomainarchive.com/public-domain-images-grey-black-trash-can-empty-parking-lot-white-lines-shadow/

It was almost midday. Most students were gathered in the cafeteria eating junks and fast food— or “prison food” as what he mockingly called them since it often comes in trays. Meanwhile, Clark, a forty-two year old veteran janitor at VSU Laboratory High came out of the building and squinted to the sun that hung just above his head. Time to do some custodial work, he thought.

He walked in the pathway like a man with great pride, a broom on one hand and a dustpan on the other, his eyes watchful for litters in the surrounding. Without these tools, his uniform, and a pencil tucked behind his ears, he could surely pass as professor.

“Now what have we here…” Clark murmured as he motioned towards parking lot. “R2D2, why aren’t in your post?” he barked at the trashcan. Lines of suspicion creased on his forehead as if hearing an absurd response, “But this is the middle of nowhere. Did you really think there are trashes in this area?”

A moment of silence passed. Positive that his imaginary droid have been slacking around, Clark took the trashcan and walked away.

“Move along, R2D2. I’m taking you back to your station.”

Word Count: 200


Written for Roger Shipp’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. Please tell me it’s not too weird to think of R2D2 and Star Wars while staring at this photo ‘coz it really was the first thing the came to mind! LOL

This week’s prompt is: For this week, please use the phrase… ‘but this is the middle of nowhere…” somewhere in your flash piece. 

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Case Unclosed

public-domain-images-hine-lewis-national-child-labor-committee-collection-32-1080x675
http://publicdomainarchive.com/public-domain-images-hine-lewis-national-child-labor-committee-collection

I know it’s only been three weeks but I saw evil knocked on our doorstep by the time she arrived.

Since we’ve been living in this orphanage all our lives, new arrivals like her aren’t a huge shock among my thirty-two inmates. Yes, that’s how we jokingly call each other.

However, this girl, with a honey-gold braided hair, pale skin, and freckles across her nose, was different. I heard from the nuns that her mother, the woman who was with her, didn’t want her anymore. She cried on her first day, all day and night. And as always, we gave new inmates their space until they’re ready.

The next day, she was quiet. She never talked. Then bad things started happening. Whenever someone’s happy, they’re bound to meet their gloom the day after— through a headless doll, broken crayons, torn papers, and lost toys.

I knew it was her. I’m certain. But most of us fear her silence, her menacing green eyes. She would stand by the window, staring blankly with an ominous smile and no one would have the guts to face her.

We need proof.

So, until I have our evidence, I, Matthew Burton, will be her shadow.

Word Count: 200


Written for Roger Shipp’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. The photo prompt reminds me of Ransom Riggs‘ Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. I haven’t read the book yet, I’m too coward (have you seen the cover and the scans?). BUT I’m working on finding the courage to take the book from the shelf and buy it at once. Soon, maybe? 😉

This week’s prompt is: “Nothing is ever as easy as it…”

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Colors

kids-books
http://publicdomainarchive.com/public-domain-images-vintage-kids-toys-books-fisherprice/

Nothing is ever as easy as it looks. When Mrs. Grelina taught us our ABCs, we thought it was as easy as apples, balls, and cats. Thirty years later, our ABCs merely stand for

Anger,

Bills,

…and Children.

Children, ha! Isn’t it weird how our world was the size of a crayon box back then and we’d simply grab the brightest colors to paint our dull day? I remember one Thursday morning, Mrs. Grelina asked us to paint a picture of our day and my seatmate, Jules, in his messy hair and oversized shirt, drew the weirdest picture I’ve ever seen. In his paper was a white rectangle under a tree. His world was dark as the night and on the corner of the picture was a huge portal-like shape colored in bright pink.

Back in my five year old mind, that picture was scary so I called Mrs. Grelina and told her about Jules. Then they talked in whispers at the back of her desk. I was actually surprised to find her beaming!

After class, Mrs. Grelina handed me the paper with Jules’ drawing and said, “Maria, Jules was upset because his dog died yesterday. But you see that bright pink color? That’s your world. He says you brighten up his day.”

Word Count: 205


Written for Roger Shipp’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. The photo prompt reminds me of the eulogy I wrote for last week’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt so I really, really have to continue sharing the world of Mrs. Grelina in here. ❤ ❤ ❤

This week’s prompt is: “Nothing is ever as easy as it looks…”

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The Confession

public-domain-images-archive-free-stock-photos-2-1000x666
http://publicdomainarchive.com/public-domain-images-royal-path-life-vintage-book-circa-1880-green-gold/

It was one of those Friday night sleepovers. Nights you jokingly call ‘talk-overs’ for it starts and ends with long talk and gossip in between laughter instead. Just you and you best friend over comfy pillows, soft cushion, and warm blanket. Nothing else matters.

On this special night, in your matching pink pajamas, she turned, hugging your side. With probing eyes she asked, “Aren’t you going to tell me about it?”

“Tell you about what?”

“About it, you silly!”

You gave her that knowing smile for it never ceases to amaze you how she’s able to read your mind. So this is going to be THE night. A confession about the ruggedly handsome man you two met one Sunday afternoon. Your thoughts sent you an avalanche of chill and excitement as you began to speak, “So you rememb-”

“Wait! I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” she said, cutting you off.

Tugging the pillow, you chuckled and wondered where to start. And in the middle of rolling back and forth, you caught a glimpse of a letter. There it was. You could see the corner of the folded yellowed parchment sticking out of the torn lining of the battered book.

letter

Tears trickled down your cheeks after realizing you’re both in love with the same man.

“So, what was it?” she came rushing.

Word Count: 200


Written for Roger Shipp’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. This is actually half fiction, half truth. I wrote the original story five years ago when I found out my friend liked the guy who liked me. Thank God the feeling’s not mutual on my end, for I would rather lose a guy than a very good friend. The poem was the exact words I’ve read from a piece of paper I found on her sketch pad. :”)

This week’s prompt is: There it was. You could see the corner of the folded yellowed parchment sticking out of the torn lining of the battered book.”  (The opening sentence does not flow as nicely as I would have liked…. You are encouraged to tweak it and use the concept/idea.)

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Oh deer…

public-domain-images-free-stock-photos-high-quality-resolution-downloads-around-the-house-8-1000x666

“Yes. You— me— here— now.” she softly whispered as she slithery wrapped her arms around him.

Their breaths became heavier; their feelings are burning with desire. He greedily kissed her like he’s never tasted such sweetness before. She plunged on him with hunger like there’s no time for charade. In that one splendid moment they both shared thirst. Groans and gasps formed a rhythm but upon their zenith, a flash of light struck his tired eyes.

His eyes popped wide open. Seeing his whole family stunned outside, Bob suddenly realized, the door is ajar!

“What are you looking at?” his wobbly voice came roaring from inside the room, glimpses of his trance still lingered in his mind.

“N-n-nothing. Nothing at all, Bob. J-ju-just your hanging deer from yesterday’s hunt.” Granny Gina hesitantly answered before slamming the door close.

He rose up the bed, rubbed his forehead— still half awake and half asleep. A few seconds ago he was having a dream, probably the best one he has ever had. “Oh dear, what could possibly have I done?” he anxiously thought.

Word Count: 180


Written for Roger Shipp’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. A sentence is provided and we are to craft a story to under 200 words length. This idea is a courtesy of a non-blogger friend who got curious of flash fiction. Ha! I don’t know what to say… 😀

This week’s prompt is: “You lookin’ at me?” (You may reword the quote using proper grammar/etiquette. if you like.)

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