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Doodles and Scribbles

Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul

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Sunday Photo Fiction

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story.

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

First Dance

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First Dance
A Mythic Fiction

Cybele, the goddess of nature, came in the earliest crack of dawn. Soft gust of wind kissed on her cheeks, flirted with her long drape, and tousled her golden curls.

“Oh! Good morning, Boreas! You’re awfully playful today.” She said in between chuckle, whisking the wind away.

“All for you, Cybele,” Boreas, the god of wind, replied and with all the pride and air he could muster, gave a ceremonial bow, “May I have the honor to be your first dance?”

“You’ve always knew for whom my first dance is,” she softly whispered. With that, Cybele started moving slowly, her long dress flew gracefully with every bend and every curve as she performed her morning mantra.

Flourish my children, spread your verdant greens
Bloom, oh sweet buds, show those smiles to me
Creatures in the wild, live and run freely
Breath with pride my mountains and rivers in between

With one final pose, she pointed her toes and lifted her foot to an arabesque.

“What a pleasure it is,” Boreas exclaimed, “to hear your prayers, dear Cybele. You are as refined as a queen and as graceful as a swan.”

“Thank you, Boreas! But you still won’t get your dance.”

Word Count: 200

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.


Written for Sunday Photo Fiction’s prompt.

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story. Thank you, Al!

*Cybele is known as the mistress of wild nature and  goddess of fertility. She personified the earth and its abundant benefits, and was regarded as the Great Mother and unceasing producer of all plant life. She was also believed to exercise unbounded sway over the animal world including wild animals, especially the lion.

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42 Wallaby Way, Sydney

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It was Sunday afternoon when Kyle gave in to his daughter’s insistent demand. Kristel, his fair-skinned, auburn-haired, ball of cuteness eight years old, had been babbling about a place ever since she watched Finding Nemo.

“P Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney! P Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney! P Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney!” she chanted from the backseat.

“Yes, sweetheart. Almost there.” Kyle smiled through the rear-view mirror.

“Just keep swimming, Daddy!” Her round eyes widened in excitement, her little teeth as white as pearl in full show. She’s a splitting image of his wife, Lyla. If only you were here, my love, he thought.

Minutes later, they pulled up near the harbor. Seagulls hovered in the sky, gliding with the sea breeze. Kyle looked around and found the dentist’s office. “Come on, sweetheart. There’s Mr. Sherman.”

Kristel dashed to the glass door, slid it open without a word. Inside was a stunned Latino who gave her a quick smile. “Hello there little angel! Can I help you?”

“Is Nemo here, Mr. Sherman?” she asked, moving towards the aquarium.

“Oh, the clownfish? I’m afraid he must have escaped through the drainage, angel.”

Instead of frowning Kristel grinned, “YAY! Nemo’s free!”

Word Count: 200


Written for Sunday Photo Fiction’s prompt.

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story. Thank you, Al!

Read more stories here:

 

Almost There

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The rising sun hung above her head and casted a shadow over the verdant greens.

“Hello, shadow, my old friend.” Bree mused, snapping a photo of her dark reflection on the ground.

It has been nine months since she started a healthy-living life. Bree dropped the junk foods, the oily and sweet treats, and even renounced cheese (the root word of her name and her most favorite thing in the world). Her journey was agonizing and almost unbearable. On some nights, in the comfort of her pillows, she condemns the world for screaming how slim is better. Since when did that define a woman’s worth, anyway?

But Bree knew better. She lived a healthy life not to join the pageantry of vanity or to impress anyone but because she owed this to herself. She worked out, running four miles on weekdays, increasing her mileage each week, not to be better than anybody else but to be a better version of herself.

As she stared at her shadow, she couldn’t help but grin. Nine months ago, she was the size of a whale shark. Her outline was a shame. But now, she has lost over 200 pounds. “Almost there,” Bree mumbled.

 Word Count: 200


Written for Sunday Photo Fiction’s prompt.

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story. Thank you, Al!

Heartaches

147 03 March 13th 2016

“If this be heartache, let it be mine to endure,” she voiced as she solemnly stared at the raging storm that seemed to mirror her feelings well. The sky was as dim as northern seas, dramatically staged with lightning that made the clouds flicker. Rain hammered the earth and outside was already sea of puddles. The wind was still in full fury.

She’s uncertain of a thousand things. Does he love her truly? Will her heart be spared from distress? Friends have warned her before. But she melted into a languid pleasure of gentle sea breeze and curling waves. On that fleeting moment, a tiny wisp of time, they were infinite— or she so thought. And just as the calm sky before the first drop of rain concludes, she looked up, then knew why typhoons were named after people.

Katrina, Joaquin, Ivan, Wilma, Ingrid, Dianne, Lenny, Jose, and the list could go on for names that have left people devastated, ruined, and overthrown. As for her, Alex must be the worst of all.

Be it a storm or a person.

Word Count: 180


Written for Sunday Photo Fiction’s prompt.

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story. Thank you, Al!

Enjoy more awesome stories here:

 

MV Logos Hope

146 03 March 6th 2016

“Dad! Hurry!” shouted Grae

“Daddy!” yelled Abbey

It was a cloudless day when Danny, along with his kids, drove towards the harbor for a very special event. Docked in the berth of Pier Uno was the world’s largest floating library. Operated by a German charity group, MV Logos Hope has been travelling across the world for forty-five successful years. The ship remains in each port for a month, offering its wide-range of educational materials and over 5,000 titles to thousands of visitors at an affordable price.

As they entered the ship, Danny felt transported to a different world. He couldn’t help but wonder how this warship-looking vessel carried books instead of bombs. Its dark hardwood timbers coated in a flat clear oil-based varnish maintained its antique look. Three cannons are also noticeable in the bow area where Grae has started playing make-believe pirate. Boys, he thought.

Amid the towering bookshelves, Abbey was also immersed in her own world— her little fingers running through the spines of every book. “How’s my sweetheart?” he asked.

“It’s a heaven of books, Daddy!” she beamed.

He smiled then heard Grae roaring from a distance. “BLACK PEARL IS MINEEEEEEE!”

And they both laughed in chorus.

Word Count: 200


Written for Sunday Photo Fiction’s prompt. Another photo that reminds me of a wonderful experience with the world’s largest floating library, MV Logos Hope. It was May 2015 when Cebu, Philippines became one of the chosen stops of this world-travelling bookstore. 😍😍😍

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story. Thank you, Al!

Enjoy more awesome stories here:

 

One More Day

145 02 February 28th 2016

Lori and Chad have been working in the office for twelve straight hours. Hunched over their desks, nothing breaks the ghostly silence except for the tapping on keyboards. They’ve been waiting months for an approved one-week vacation and by the time their boss dropped the big “YES”, Lori and Chad had assiduously wrapped their tasks in a heap of papers.

“YES!” they shouted in chorus.

Lori excitedly hugged Chad and gave him a kiss. “We better get home! We need to pack! We have our tickets, right? Please tell me we already do…”

“Baby, relax,” he whispered, too sleepy and tired to even give a wide smile, “I’ve already booked our trip. But we’ll have to wait until the next day- which is great because we badly need a rest.”

“Fine.” She answered, her lips forming a pout.

“Ha! Don’t give me that! Besides, didn’t you read the news? UK’s in a slight stir due to EU referendum and Brexit.” Chad teased.

“I don’t care. I want the Stonehenge, Big Ben, Canterbury, cathedrals, castles, and cobbled-streets. I want the places where Chaucer, Shakespeare, Dickens, and Jane Austen once breathed. So, no, mister. I’ve waited for months, what’s one more day.”

Word Count: 200


Written for Sunday Photo Fiction’s prompt. The image looked too political which is NOT my cup of tea so I had to resort to my long-time dream, a European trip (which, of course, includes UK!) 😀

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story.

Enjoy more awesome stories here:

Mrs. Grelina: A Eulogy

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I remember Mrs. Grelina when we were five. She was a large woman, the size of a teddy bear. Each morning, she would clap her hands and yell, “Kids! Round them up!” Then our little arms would push and drag the tables and chairs, in between squeals and laughter, to form a huge circle. It was always my favorite part.

She never needed a strict class to make us learn. While most teachers make seating arrangement, we were seated facing each other; while most teachers carry a stick, Mrs. Grelina carried a colorful wand. She would call it The Talking Wand. We would then raise our hands to recite or ask a question—just to get a hold of her wand. She taught us to share and to listen. In that round circle, we were make believe artists, musicians, architects, presidents and she would talk to us like we were such.

Now, the boy with a messy hair holds an art exhibit. The loudest kid in class sold a concert. The one in big glasses designed Shangrila, and the girl that always sleeps, the one who loved to dream, is now a poet standing in front of you.

Thank you, Mrs. Grelina.

Word Count: 202


Written for Sunday Photo Fiction’s prompt. I don’t remember much from my prep school but I remember crayons, shared laughter, and children seated in round tables. I believe it was fun. 😍

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story.

Enjoy more awesome stories here:

Meet the Parents

It was almost midday and they’re running late. Noah and Ari are still driving to the docks where Noah’s parents waited at Island Grill for a seafood lunch.

“Baby, it’s okay. Mom already knew we’re going to be a bit late.” He kissed her hands and gave a reassuring smile.

Ari, however, is still bursting in frustration, “I can’t believe it! Of all days, how could we be stuck in the middle of the traffic now?Oh, Noah, your mom and dad must think I’m a slacker. Now my chances are absolutely ruined. Gone. I’m too plain, I’m not smart, I’m ugly, and now I’m always late. I don’t understand a thing about engineering to talk to your dad and I can’t even cook to please your mom. Maybe they’ll ask you to break up with me and find a better girlfriend. That’s it, they’ll ask you to break up with me. You deserve better. We should just break up. I-”

The car suddenly came to a shrieking stop as Noah turned and said, “I love you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she breathed the words in. “And I love you too.”

Love- it’s all that really matters.


Written for Sunday Photo Fiction’s prompt.

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story.

Enjoy more awesome stories here:

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