I was being watched. I felt it in my marrow. My insides crawled with unease, as if my very cells knew something was going to happen. I should have listened to those instinctive warnings. I was slightly distracted, though, by the Greek god of a man nibbling at my neck. His lips sent chills down my spine, dulling my other senses.

“Stop it,” I giggled flirtatiously, “we’re missing the movie.”

“I didn’t come for the movie.” He breathed in my ear.

I was thankful for the darkness of the theater so he couldn’t see my red-hot cheeks. He pulled away and I immediately felt a shift in the air. I could feel every molecule; time was slowing. I tried to focus my energy. Not here. Not now, in front of this glorious normal creature. I stole a glance over at my date and that’s when I noticed them. Two men in grey suits, looking stiff among all the lax postures of hormone charged teenagers, sitting in the row right behind him.

“Joran, I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Hurry back,” he whispered, lightly touching my lips with his thumb, hand cradling my chin. My skin burned with his electric touch.

I’d probably never see him again.



This was my entry in Last week’s Flash! Friday. (Check out the winning story here. It is amazing!) This story didn’t place or get a special mention but I did get a lot of positive feedback from readers, and almost all those who commented wanted me to continue the story. I did notice that all the people who wanted more were women …. my unnamed “Greek god of a man” character may have something to do with that. 😉

Anyway, I will be working on the backgrounds of these characters and possibly create a longer story. I’m not sure If I will just continue where I left off, making it a short story, or just use it as inspiration and write a longer work (I’m not great at writing longer stories).

Any thoughts on this story are welcome, comment below. 🙂


New Hope

Sapling. CC2.0 photo by Jason Scragz.


There seemed no hope for us, a dying people. Forgotten. Forsaken. The prophecy had long been buried. The rich heritage had all but dried up, leaving us with a future filled with death and sorrow.

When he was born the story of the mark spread as fast as a rushing river.

“In the darkest hour a child will be born,

bearing the mark of new life upon his face for all to see.

This child will crush your enemies and bring forth a new age of prosperity.”


It was hard to believe, but a new hope filled our dying hearts.


Warm Up Wednesday. Just for fun, no judging. 100 word story based on photo prompt.

A New World – Flash Fiction

Warmup Wednesday! 100 word story.

CC2.0 photo by Jose Maria Cuellar.
Oh Venezia! CC2.0 photo by Jose Maria Cuellar.


Max was stunned.

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. All the stories he’d heard as a young boy had been true. There did exist a world where fire lit the sky each morning, bathing the land in golden light.

He stood, motionless, staring at the expanse of this new world. This wonderful, breathtaking place was the only hope for his starving people.

“What are you, a statue? Let’s keep moving!” The commander shouted.

Max tore his gaze away, the world dimming around him as his eyes adjusted. This was his new home, his future.


Revenge- Flash Fiction

Here is my entry in last week’s Flash Friday! Prompt.  We were to write a story inspired by the photo and with the theme of Aspiration.

Whetting Interrupted, 1894. Public domain painting by Jose Ferraz de Almeida Junior.
Whetting Interrupted, 1894. Public domain painting by Jose Ferraz de Almeida Junior.



The last time I saw my father I was ten years old.

I was terrified, my dress wet from running through the stream to our hut.

“Stay inside with your brother. Don’t come out until I come back for you.” His eyes betrayed that he was worried. I remember nodding in obedience, holding my baby brother, shivering.

He shut the door and ran down the path, clutching his axe. The only weapon he had would never be a match for the beast. Shrill screams filled the smoky air. I tried to calm my brother who was now crying and wriggling out of my arms. I tightened my grip, brought him to our bed, and crawled underneath.

“SHHH. It will be OK.” I knew it wouldn’t. The smell of charred flesh and burning wood filled the hut. I all but choked on the stench. We eventually fell asleep after the screams stopped. My father never came back.

As I stare at myself in the water, I can see the weight on my shoulders, slightly slumped with years of hard labor. It’s been 8 long years of tyranny under the reign of these beasts.

Tightening my belt, sword at my side, I head to the mountains. Today I seek my revenge.


Word Count- 209