'Never pause on page eleven' by Joyce Bingham

“Tea is ready.”

Sylvia jams her bookmark into the page, her mother’s voice is rising through octaves, Silvia shivers, she is in trouble.

The last word she read has a rich sound to it, the p sounds, a rolling r, making it a delight. Purple, she thinks, how delightful it would be to have purple pudding for tea. When she reaches the table, her bowl is filled with blueberry yoghurt.

“I’ve given the kale and gorgonzola pie to the birds.” Her mother says without a blink.

Her mother has a magenta wave of blusher on each cheek. Her violet eyes darker than usual, her hair plum. Sylvia shrugs, her mother is always experimenting, at least her hair is not green again.

Sylvia takes her blackcurrant juice to the garden, where the lavender flowers and the lilac trees are in full bloom. In the sunlight her dark dress is a vibrant magenta and a purple emperor butterfly flits past. Trying to catch the butterfly Sylvia trips and falls, the pain in her legs and arms glows with flowering bruises. 

She limps into the house, her mother is sitting in the sofa, the purple chenille cover creeping along her arms and legs, the silk fringe crossing her eyebrows.

Sylvia screams and runs upstairs, she opens the book reads on, finishing page eleven. She closes the book with a thump, her bookmark flutters to the floor.

“Sylvia come and eat your pie, be sure to finish page eleven first.”

'Greener Grass' by Lucienne Cummings

David’s umbrella turned inside-out. Drops of rain ran down his neck, soaking his coat and shirt. Shivering, he looked down and noticed a fish swimming under the bridge.

‘I wish I was anyone else but me,’ David muttered.

Wriggling on a hook, the fish that had been David rolled its eyes and gasped. As it did so, it saw a duck take off into the newly sunny sky.

I wish I wasn’t a fish, was the fish’s final thought.

Lead shot whistled past the duck’s wing as it careened through the air, quacking and flapping. Below, it saw a man holding an ice cream.

I wish-, thought the bird as the next shot hit its target.

Back on the ground, David checked himself for holes. Relieved, he looked up just as duck droppings landed on his waffle cone.

David sighed and trudged home.

'Skulduggery Afoot' by Catherine O’Brien

Nine and one touch on his cake but a ray of light ruins the illusion. There is no expiry date on wanting to experience life on your tippy toes, this informs his thinking when the crowd chants ‘make a wish’.

Marty’s sense of whimsy saw the gnomes clustered conspiratorially outside Dempsey’s. The historical society met every Tuesday at 8.30pm. A guest speaker had been arranged and the turnout had reflected it. It was most unfortunate when what was later referred to as “punk” music started blaring. No one could figure out how to stem the lyrical onslaught and the speaker was escorted from the stage as if a horde of corrupt youth were likely to storm the building at any second.

Murphy recounted to Marty how the gnomes had been modified to suit their “sinister” agenda. When Marty interjected to ask what he believed their agenda may be, Murphy said without pausing, “obviously to terrify the living daylights out of us.” Two gnomes had tattoos across their upper abdomens while others had countenances that would “chill you to the bone.” The tattoos which appeared to have been stencilled on were particularly concerning. Murphy had convinced himself that they were some kind of gang insignia. Flaherty had taken polaroids and sent them to headquarters for examination.

Marty likes to saunter midmorning. Murphy is bustling towards him like a three-legged kitten fleeing an affray, words spilling noiselessly from his lips. Marty’s heart somersaults, ecstatic to be granted one more day of mischief-making.

NFFD 2022 Prompt #14: Make a Wish!

 Make a Wish!

 This is National Flash Fiction Day's eleventh anniversary, so this year, all our prompts have something to do with the number 11....

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Some people say that 11:11 is a lucky time, and that if you see this time on the clock and make a wish, your wish will come true.  Write a flash in which someone makes a wish that comes true in an unexpected way....

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If you’re submitting this to us, make sure to note that this is a response to Prompt 14: Make a Wish!

You can submit responses until 23:59 BST on Sunday, 19 June 2022 for a chance to be published here at The Write-In.

 

Photo by c.e.b. via flickr (CC BY-SA 2.0)