Flash Fiction

Panama Worker #898

lillian41 Comments

It was the only evidence left.

He came to build someone else’s dream, a canal between two oceans. One year of back-breaking labor, and then a joyous return to Rosa and young Henry. His pay would ensure simple things they grappled for now. Shoes that fit a young boy’s ever-growing feet, and warm coats for cold winters.

He managed to escape malaria and avoid the brothels. His wiry mud-caked frame always alert. Nimble fingers. Quick legs. Just ten days more. Twist the wires. Set the charge and run like hell. Only this time, hell exploded in his hands.

wired

Photo by Connie Gayer.  Word Count: 98 words.
Flash fiction using this week’s photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers.

Off Course

lillian35 Comments

I’d travelled through time, hopeful to visit the genteel days of Jane Austen’s world. Instead, the calibration mechanism slipped and catapulted me into a reed-covered pond.  Scrambling out of the machine, the corrosion was evident. How far off course had I come?

Sopping wet, I stumbled down the nearby path and came upon them: three young girls writhing on the ground. Suddenly they rose in unison, pointing at an ashen-faced red-haired woman in the surrounding crowd. “It’s her,” they screamed. “She’s the witch! Take her to the pond and test her!”

And they moved toward my beloved machine.

dale-rogerson

Photo by Dale Rogerson.  Word Count: 98
First try at flash fiction using this week’s prompt photo, provided for Friday Fictioneers. Requirements: 100 words or less + photo attribution. Boston is a commuter rail ride away from Salem, Massachusetts — alive this time of year with reminders of its witch trial days! Not sure I’ll continue writing in this genre — but fun to try!