Every Friday, writers from around the globe join in sharing their flash fiction stories, each tiny tale written in response to a photo prompt posted on Rochelle’s blog. Anyone can take part – if you’d prefer not to write, then just enjoy reading all these free stories!
You can find Joanna’s and Ron’s stories for this week below, whilst the tales crafted by other writers can be found here (or you can click the blue frog below!) Our earliest stories can be found on our old blog.
This week’s photo prompt has been supplied by Janet Webb.
Joanna’s story ~
I roll the pebble over in my hand. It’s smooth, washed by sand and tide and time. Waves slide up the beach, edged with frills of bubbles like white lace. Danny hands me something, his small fingers probing the holes: a wasps’ nest.
Memory overlays my present.
Midsummer. Grandmother Agnes in her starched black dress, edged with stiff lace. Disdain. A box of crystals. Bees droning outside the open window. I’m scared of Grandmother. I choose a yellow stone, a citrine, and make a wish.
“Put that down, Danny,” I tell my young son. “Don’t touch anything.”
Ron’s story ~
Danny surveys the beach: not busy, but with children playing games, running on the cold water’s edge or trying to keep upright traversing the seaweed-covered rocks. The adults are walking with vigour along the beach, sitting on the cliff edge watching their youngsters in the pools, or just standing chatting.
Danny’s Dad is sitting in what he calls a “lotus position” with eyes shut. Danny wonders why he is the only one in wellies and hooded anorak.
Danny decides to do “something”. He stands up and wanders over to the debris on the tideline, picking up a honeycomb.