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DoodleScribbles

Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul

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fiction

The Day

friday-fictioneers-grey-day-with-pigeons-roger-bultot-1
© Roger Bultot

The Day
Satirical Fiction

I stared out the window, little birds are clustered on live wires across the empty street. The world outside was ominously still— no cars and not a hint of soul.

Where is everyone? I wondered.

Then I realized, today is the day. The defining moment wherein a new governing body will be established. A new head of the state. A new ruler. A new legacy.

I wonder who’ll win the election. Whose dirty tricks worked? Whose sugar-coated words thrived?

A deafening firing disrupted my reverie but none of the birds came spiraling down.

Then I realized, today is the day.

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. Thank you!

PH is three days away from its national election and the country is in clamor. This game of thrones has led families and friends fight among each other, insisting and brawling that one candidate is better than the other. I found this series, Imagined President, from Rappler interesting and thought-provoking. But who really is the lesser evil? I wish I knew.

There is just one thing I hope on May 9. I hope it won’t be a bloody end.

Enjoy more stories here:

 

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:

Colossal Shame

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Colossal Shame
A Mythic fiction

“I refuse this humiliation, Salacia! It’s a colossal shame.” Neptune screamed, pointing at the statue perched atop the jagged rock near the beach.

Down in the land of mortals stood a towering statue that mirrored the god of the sea. It’s an enormous work of art that captured the attention of the world for its immense dominance.

Il Gigante, they call it. Il obbrobrio, I’d say! For years I didn’t squabble when they made me look like a slave carrying that chunk of concrete over my shoulder while they dance merrily above it. But this?!.”

Salacia couldn’t help but smile at her husband’s distress. He’s been complaining endlessly since they bombed his statue and left it an armless ruin. He wanted to summon the biggest wave to wash out the artwork that he called shame. “My husband,” she sighed, “You are as great as that statue withstanding the strongest storms for centuries. And look, even without its arms, it stood high and proud.”

“But I love my arms…” He trailed.

“So do I!” She laughed.

Word Count: 175 

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.


Glad to be back in the tale weaving world! YAY! ❤❤❤ Thanks PJ for another fun prompt. 🙂 🙂 🙂

Here is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Mom the Obscure.

From what I’ve read,  this is a photo of Il Gigante (The Giant) located at the beach of Monterosso del Mare. The 14 meter high image of Neptune, the Roman god of the sea, was originally built from concrete in 1910 to decorate the seaward edge of the elegant Villa Pastine. Allied bombs and rough seas have turned the once mighty century giant into an armless ruin. 

Neptune must be furious, you think? Hehe.

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:

Realms

kent-b

 

Imagine a vast realm, still and undisturbed, resting on the shelves as books. Each book has a story to tell— a life seen in vivid imagery or told in detailed intricacies. A world of history or fantasy, victory or defeat, research or discovery, questions or answers.

I delight in hopping from one realm to another. Some world I explore in a day while others took longer. But the world I’m in today is quite… puzzling. I set off a journey to the pages filled with outlines of shapes in various sizes.

Then I realize, some realms are not for me.


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. Thank you!

The photo prompt, a courtesy of Kent Bonham, reminds me of logic shapes and puzzles. Once, I tried to read a book about it back in collage, I ended up staring blankly at the pages. Blame my left side of the brain, please. Nonetheless, I had to read it to pass an exam. LOL. Some memories… ^^

Enjoy more stories here:

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:

 

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 loves 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:

The Hourglass

PHOTO PROMPT - © Sandra Crook

 

Bill Ortega, the world’s wealthiest man with a net worth of $143.7 billion, sat weak and powerless on the bedside. For sixty years, he lived life as a race, never stopping to take a break. But how he wished he did.

Lying on deathbed was his wife Ligaya, her body a shrunken leaf. He couldn’t help but let out a sob. “Honey?” she asked, her face lined with pain.

“I should have slowed my life down.” he lamented, “I don’t want to lose-

“You’re not, you never will.” she differed, “Remember your favorite hourglass? I tilted it.”

Confused, he asked why.

“To slow my time down.”

Then Ligaya gave him her sweetest smile.

Word Count: 113


Here’s for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt. The photo prompt is a courtesy of Sandra Crook which reminds me three things, 1) to seize the day, 2) live life to the fullest, and 3) to savor every moment. 🙂 🙂 🙂

Friday Fictioneers s a weekly writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields where a photo is used as a prompt for a hundred-word piece of fiction.

Enjoy more stories here. 🙂

24 Gloves

Leap Day marks the opening of the path to Castle Peak- a medieval castle demonstrating the power and significance of its Lords- to every maiden in Naga City. Every four years, on the 29th of February, all maiden above sixteen will walk the unsteady pavement, brave the roaring waves, and  fight the gusting winds in search for a dashing prince or a knight in shining armor.

This year will be her third try. Hesitant, she stopped on the side of the path and stared down her shaking hands.

“Lisa! The ball will start soon. Why aren’t you in dress?” asked one of the girls passing by.

“Ssshh! Don’t you know? It’s her third time this year. A shame!” whispered the other.

“Come on, leave her and her gloves alone!” called out the rest.

With tears in her eyes, she decided to walk away from this place, tossed twenty-four pairs of gloves into the grey sea, and  forget the path to grandeur.

“Love will find me, if it’s meant to be.”

Word Count: 170


Here is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt. This photo prompt from TJ Paris reminds me of my first love. The I-have-no-idea-why-I-like-him-but-I-did-anyway kind of guy, born on the 29th of February, who turned me down (unknowingly). Ha! I moved one. I moved one. I- fine… maybe just a little bit bitter. I should just shut up here! 😀 😀 😀

P.S  According to ancient history, St Brigid struck a deal with St Patrick to allow women to propose to men and any man who refuses a woman’s proposal has to buy her 12 pairs of gloves to hide the embarrassment of not having an engagement ring. (Source)

Thanks for another fun prompt, PJ! 😀

Enjoy more stories here:

 

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