Young Love

My entry in #threelinethursday.


Catching waves of softly spoken undertones
Pause, feel the sun upon our young faces
Ride our story into tomorrow’s awaiting arms

Not Ready Yet – Flash Fiction

This was neither the day nor the time for her craziness. Mia needed this to go well but she was nervous that her thoughts were going to ruin everything.

“Come on,” she told herself, “just stop worrying. It’s going to be OK.”

She took a deep breath. Jordan was walking up to her door, looking amazing as usual. Mia quickly ran out before she could change her mind.

“Hi,” she said timidly, fighting the urge to run back into the house.

“Hi,” his face beamed with an excited smile.

Her heart sank a little. She could already see he had high expectations for this date. She feared she could not live up.

“Are you ready to go, or do you need a minute?”

“I think I’m good,” she said, surprised he thought to ask.

As he walked her to his car she counted her steps, mouthing the numbers, but quickly stopped when she noticed him looking at her. She made a mental note to count in her head next time. When he opened the door for her she was taken aback by what she saw. His seat had a new plastic cover on it and there was a bottle of hand sanitizer in the cup holder. She got in and situated herself. He smiled when she used the sanitizer.

“Off we go,” he said, as if he was giving her a warning. She felt very relaxed with him. He seemed to have put a lot of thought into this date.

When they arrived at the restaurant he held the door for her, being very cautious to always leave a wide gap between them. Mia looked around and immediately knew that this was a huge mistake. The restaurant was packed and very loud. She started to panic, fists clenched at her side. She didn’t know if she could do this. The hostess brought them to their table. She was relieved that they were in a back corner away from most of the crowd. Jordan gave her a nervous look as a large group was moving towards them. They sat down at the tables right beside them, the children sitting closest to her.

Mia tried to calm herself. “It’s OK. No need to freak.” Then, to her horror, the littlest child sneezed in her direction. She immediately closed her mouth, the urge to vomit strong. Panicked thoughts of death and disease filled her mind. She was going to lose it. Jordan seemed to pick up on her distress right away.

“Let’s go,” he said as he reached for her hand but then pulled back.

“Just get me out now.” She was having trouble breathing. She put out her hand, he grabbed it and pulled her out of the crowd. Finally outside, she took a deep breath.

“Are you alright?”

“I need to get home.”

Jordan nodded and drove her back.

He walked her to the door, she quickly said goodbye and hurried inside closing the dangerous world out.

She wasn’t ready yet.



This was my entry for Finish That Thought #2-39.

Judge’s Thoughts:

Not Ready Yet by RealMommaRamblings

“Wow, this guy is stellar! Though she’s not ready yet, I hope she doesn’t give up on him and herself completely. The fact he went to the trouble to get “a new plastic cover” on the seat and “a bottle of hand sanitizer in the cup holder” tells me that he doesn’t mind the fact she’s compelled to count or can’t stand crowded spaces. I came to the end thinking, please, please be ready eventually.” –Foy S. Iver

I didn’t place but I really enjoyed writing this one. This is actually based on a story idea I had a couple years back. It just seemed to fit the prompt. I was glad to dig it out of “the vault” and rewrite it.

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.


The Last One- Flash Fiction

They came in broad daylight. The rumbling of their huge machines resonated through the quiet morning air. We could see them charging for us, but there was nothing we could do. We were utterly defenseless. I did not quite understand what was happening at first. The men were intimidating, but there was no direct indication that they meant us any harm. Maybe they were just passing through, interrupting our serene morning for only a short time.

That was not the case at all.

I watched as some of the men got out of their big yellow metal monsters, carrying large weapons. Loud grinding sounds all of a sudden came from the weapons as if they were alive. Fear struck me, as I saw one man heading towards my brother, weapon out.

“NO!” I shouted, but to no avail.

Screams from my brother filled the air reverberating every part of me, but the men seemed as though they could not hear them.

To my horror, the other men started in on the rest of my family. I stood and watched. There was nothing I could do. I was a statue among this massacre. My brothers and sisters fell one by one. The breaking of their bodies pierced my core. Once on the ground, the men started chopping at their limbs, dismembering them. My family lay, torn and tattered, every last one.

I didn’t want to see anymore, didn’t want to hear anymore. Their screams still lingered in my soul.

My home.

My family.


I looked down and saw that I was their next target.

I braced myself. I no longer wanted to live. I couldn’t bare the heavy weight of the loss of all those I loved. I welcomed what was coming. The largest man came slowly towards me, yelling something to his pack. They backed away from me as though they wanted to be as far from me as possible. The weapon roared to life, the blade bit into my flesh, ripping and chipping away. I wailed and moaned, mourning the loss of my kin. The man’s face, with his hungry eyes full of greed and lust, was the last image I saw. I fell with a loud crack thump.

I, the last tree in the forest, welcomed the sweet silence of death.


Word count: 384