Search

DoodleScribbles

Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul

Tag

fiction

Rose Among the Ghosts

restaurant

He stared through the dissipating smoke, fascinated how this woman evolved from a wilted rose to a flower in full bloom. She loves silence now —

though there’s never a quiet time when you’re with ghosts.

“What?” Ariella asks.

“What?” He echoes, smiling.

“That look,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re laughing at me.”

“Why? You asked for peace and we left you for three days,” he shrugs, teasing her with a poker face. “Admit it. You missed us.”

Ariella’s eyes widen but her mouth curved to a smile. “Pretend you don’t see me, Gustav.”

“You’re the one who’s pretending, my rose.”

Word Count: 100


Written for Friday Fictioneers, a weekly writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields where a photo is used as a prompt for a hundred-word piece of fiction. The photo prompt this week is a courtesy of Dale Rogerson.

Last week’s prompt, I was inspired by Ali and wrote a prequel to his story. This time, I’ve decided to continue being a literary parasite (if the word exist) and take inspiration from another writer. This one is inspired by J.A. Prentice’s flash fiction titled An End to Solitude. I’m normally a scardey cat when it comes to ghosts and not-like-ours but I love how he twisted his story and gave it a lighter angle. 🙂

Head over here to join the prompt!

Beginnings

“Was I?”

I look at him hoping to see mischief in those Houdini eyes. Perhaps ten years have blurred my memory. It wasn’t I who followed a stranger to that bookstore along Rue de la Bûcherie. What was it called? Ah, Shakespeare and Company.

I did not go out of my way pretending to eye those weather-beaten shelves, fingering book spines, thinking of a way to start a conversation.

“James Joyce lies buried in the cellar” was your desperate did-you-know. I can’t believe how I fell for that—

How I fell for you.

Paris is indeed full of exotic swindlers.

Word Count: 100


Written for Friday Fictioneers, a weekly writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields where a photo is used as a prompt for a hundred-word piece of fiction. The photo prompt this week is a courtesy of C.E. Ayr.

It has been a while since I’ve written for Friday Fictioneers and I am happy to be back this week. This one is inspired by Ali’s micro story titled Endings. As I have said (am I’m sure I’m not the only one), it’s rare to see him write about love and heartbreak. My hopeless romantic muse got thrilled and so here’s a prequel to his tale.. 😉

Head over here to join the prompt!

 

Empty

The moment I heard that the streets of Divisoria have been cleared of sidewalk vendors, I flew to Manila to witness the momentous sight. This once busy section, riddled with various bazaars and people, has finally been stripped off its chaos.

As I stride aimlessly on one of its thoroughfares, I couldn’t help but sigh. It feels different. Everything is new to the eyes. Who would have thought we were walking on square blocks of concrete before?

“It’s so empty,” I voiced out.

“So are our stomachs,” the man from behind replied. He is Renato, a vendor for 45 years.

Word Count: 100


It has been a while since I’ve written for Friday Fictioneers and I am happy to be back for this week’s prompt.

Friday Fictioneers is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields where a photo is used as a prompt for a hundred-word piece of fiction. The photo prompt this week is a courtesy of Rochelle herself. 🙂

This one is inspired by the ongoing road clearing operations in the Philippines. Last July, the Department of the Interior and Local Government gave local executives 60 days to reclaim public roads from private use and to clear streets of obstruction. While this project scheme comes with good reasons and intentions, it could not be denied that the street vendors, whose lives relied on their meager earnings, were greatly affected. When the stretch of roads have all been emptied, what happens to those who strive to make ends meet. Is change truly for all? Here’s a photo of the real Divisoria.

Credits: Philstar

Up for a challenge? Join the fun here:

Pink Froggie

Pretender

It’s 9:52. The night is young yet the house is full. People are coming in and out of the front door. On a dim corner, behind the gate, a man is throwing up.

“I need a drink,” he thought of storming in but stopped at the sight a familiar face.

Five years— she never changed. Laughing with her head back, he guesses her black shirt still carries a statement. Like “Down With Big Brother” or “Go Queer”.

“Don’t,” the word came late and before he knew it, he was walking towards the one who got away. The dice is rolled. Fuck what ifs and the mutilated could-have-beens.

“On the worst-case scenario, at least I can act as drunk fool.”


Took this photo on a poetry night at a local coffee shop here in Cebu. The place was filled with too many hopeless romantics that night.

Not Again!

Not Again!

I am back at Pemberly—again. This time, I am playing the piano with Lady Catherine de Bourgh watching from behind. I cringe to the shadow of her majesty. Her regal grace is creeping on my spine like a snake.

Wait… what am I doing here in the first place?

As if to answer my query, Mr. Darcy came barging into the hall with his eyes fixed on Lady Catherine. “Your highness, I am baffled and enraged”, his voice raised. “Why do you have to take her here?”

“My nephew, you astonished me.” Lady Catherine, with all her arrogance and flair, walked towards Mr. Darcy. “I expected to find a more reasonable woman. But heaven and earth! Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?”

“Leave me and my choice be, please!” He retorted and snatched me out of the mansion.

“Ria…” Mr. Darcy stopped, his breaths catching up to mine.

“Riaaaaa!” a loud voice came out of nowhere, “RIA. Wake up!” mom yelled, shaking my senses.

“MOM! Not again!” I wailed

“What again?!”

Word Count: 175


Here is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt. This week’s photo prompt by Louise of The Storyteller’s Abode which surprisingly reminds me of my favorite classic, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. It was January 2016 when I first wrote the fiction, Daydreams, which fantasizes Fitzwilliam Darcy and I believe it’s about time that I write a follow-up. Sorry Lizzie!

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is a weekly writing challenge where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using 150 (+/- 25 words). Thanks for another fun prompt, PJ! 😀

Enjoy more stories here:

 

The Soloist

photo-20170320154625492

The Soloist

Deeper than the ocean
Higher than the sky
Fighting laws of motion
When there was you and I

You’re the force to my inertia
Heartbeats accelerate
Our actions and reactions
Are signed and sealed by fate

Alice couldn’t help but smile at the sound of the man’s voice. She knew that soulful tone for as long as she could remember. How could she not when she calls her ‘dad’?

They are not homeless nor do they live a pitiable life. But her dad has always been a great man. He would rise early in the morning and take out his guitar ensemble out to the center of the town.

“This world could use some music”, he would say.

Looking at the audience gathered around the soloist, she does agree.

Word Count: 130


Here is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Sunayana MoiPensieve. Thanks PJ for hosting another fun prompt. 😀

Enjoy more stories here:

Archangel’s Last Fight

His body slowly crumbled as if he was devastation itself. Peering through the blur, he saw the snares of evil vanished into the pits of hell.

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.


In response to Shapeshifting 13 #74 KICKOFF: GHOUL FESTIVAL!

During Ghoul Festival, you will be provided a picture prompt and an audio prompt. The prompts should create an atmosphere for you that (we hope) will elicit some amazingly creative writing that is incredibly diverse. Let the image and the audio guide you through your imagination.

Visual Prompt: “Nike” by Cordray Parker (Located in the Birmingham Botanical Gardens, Birmingham, Alabama)

Audio Prompt: Beethoven – Moonlight Sonata

P.S. The 26-word limit is a tricky task and does not equate with Beethoven’s deep, dark and ferocious sonata. Phew! That was quite a cavernous chasm I was in!

War on Drugs

 

icon-grill-ted-strutz

War on Drugs
Realistic Fiction

“How are we doing?” Police inspector Stone inquired, pouring another glass from his bottle of Jack Daniels.

“Seven-hundred deaths, eight-thousand surrenders, sir.” Bates answered aptly.

Disgusted, Stone felt the liquor boiling from his insides. “That’s a lot of mouths to feed. We’ve had enough of these pushers and addicts. This is war on drugs, kid. I want you men to purge.”

“What about due process, sir?”

“Call it resisting arrest or self-defense, I don’t care. Just get those body bags out—fast.”

*BATES’ PHONE RINGS*

With a lump in his throat, he voiced, “Sir… It’s your son. He’s…  He’s dead.”

Word Count: 100

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.


In response to this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt. Friday Fictioneers is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields where a photo is used as a prompt for a hundred-word piece of fiction. The photo prompt this week is a courtesy of Ted Strutz. Thank you!

I was watching Senator De Lima’s privilege speech last night and regardless of she has done or has failed to do against the proliferation of drugs as a former justice secretary, I stand by her side when it comes to extrajudicial killings. This do-it-yourself justice is inhumane, an impunity that must come to an end.

“Drugs destroy lives, but we need not destroy lives to destroy drugs.” -Leila de Lima

 

Enjoy more stories here:

Kicking Butts

photo-20160731071945341

Kicking Butts
Realistic Fiction

“Hey, Chev!” Dorothy called out to the 1967 Chevrolet Impala. “Going out with that horse? It’s not my favorite pair but suit yourself.”

Ace snorted loudly as he eyed the white Cadillac beside them. “Is this the one, Chevy?”

Chevy has seen Dorothy the day Marcus, her owner, received that dreadful foreclosure notice. Marcus lost his home to the bank, concurrently, losing his whole life, too. She hated Dorothy and the bank since then.

“You’re looking rather sleek today.” Ace walked towards Dorothy, appraising her body. “A Cadillac Escalade?”

“2016. The latest model.” Dorothy grinned with pride.

“I see… So your owner came here to take the Marcus’ ranch. Four decades— the man has been working up a sweat living his own life.”

Dorothy noticed anger in Ace’s voice and refuted, “He’s just doing his job. He didn’t—

A loud smashing sound left Dorothy startled. The last thing she remembered was the sight of her shattered headlights and damaged wing before Ace gave one last angry jolt, “Tell that professional crook I’ll kick his capitalist butt.”

Word Count: 175

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.


Here is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Phylor. Thanks PJ for hosting another fun prompt.

P.S. I missed this!! ❤ :)

This one is inspired by a documentary I was watching last night. Michael Moore’s Capitalism: A love story.

Enjoy more stories here:

 

Up ↑