Written for Muse on Monday where David
asks us to write a ‘romantic story with no
dialogue’. Here’s where the prompt took me.
Tag: Games
You’re It!
Written for RDP Monday
Today’s prompt is: Tag
Game Night
Written for Esther’s “Can You Tell A Story In…..?
#296” – exactly 57 words using the six required
prompts: ‘gag’, ‘climb’, ‘thriller’, ‘fussy’, ‘scorpio’
and ‘tombola’. Here’s where my thoughts went.
The Name Of The Game
Our gracious host, Rochelle, at Friday Fictioneers
asks us to use the photo below as inspiration
to write creatively in 100 words or less while
making every word count. This is my flash.
BOYS WILL BE BOYS
He wasn’t a bad boy, the tearful mother professed to the crowd who gathered on the beach. Yes, he was precocious, as his teachers would attest, but he was a bright and friendly child with a clever imagination. Surely you can see that; just look at him happily playing tag with his new friends by the water.
It was dreadful, no denying, but it was a horrible accident, the weeping woman explained. A simple game of hide and seek gone terribly awry. Teams of two, boys against girls. Her son and his little friend Jack took turns hiding in a hollow on the beach, each one covering the other with sand and rocks. It was really the perfect spot to hide.
Her son scampered off behind a nearby dune to wait in hiding when the girls called out “Ready or not, here I come!” They quickly found him behind the dune and he chased them, forgetting all about his friend buried beneath the sand and rocks. Only when he heard urgent voices yelling “JACK! JACK!” did he remember his friend.
He ran to the spot where Jack was hiding, desperate parents on his heels, but it was sadly too late for his little friend. Of course no one blamed him; it was a game turned deadly, fun between innocent children.
Later, as the boy sat on his bed, he removed a slip of paper taped behind his bedpost. With a red crayon, he crossed off the name “Jack” from the list.
NAR © 2023
250 words
CYBER HOOKUPS
Flower child, bohemian, hippie. No, she was never one of those. She was always cool with her oh so very low-rise jeans, halter tops, outrageously high platform shoes and drop-dead smile. She had a peculiarity for going commando, occasionally opting for the tiniest of thongs.
Classy in a smooth and sensual way that was second nature, she was never one who had to try too hard. Delightful imperfections that went unnoticed, she had IT and she was irresistible.
Living in the fast lane, she went to clubs and concerts, hanging out with everyone from hookers to Carmelites. She never really enjoyed drugs with the exception of the indescribably exquisite quaalude. She led a life of passion with no regrets, no apologies, no explanations.
Friends and lovers – never a lack of either. Women were jealous of her but she was too much fun to dislike. Men were ineffably drawn to her like the proverbial moth to flame. She was no alley cat, no “screw-‘em-in-the-disco-bathroom” type. She could be submissive when she wanted to be but knew how the game was played, never doing anything she wasn’t curious about, and stopping if she didn’t enjoy it.
And now in the autumn of her life when all her friends are winding down, she’s still starting up. A couple of seemingly innocuous messages online led to the start of a crazy, sexually charged and mutually intoxicating long-distance liaison. No attachments, no commitments, no worries. Something that could end as quickly as it began but would never be forgotten. Games with one roguish, audacious and charming devil who’s as insatiable as she.
And right now that’s exactly how she likes it.
NAR © 2021
The Elephant's Trunk 