'Only Children' by Rachel Burrows

“They belonged to your father.”

Delusion… or dementia now? I was unborn when he joined up — five when we met. But there had been twins in that time. I have whisps of a memory now, whispers of two. Two whisps. Gone. And tears.

 

“They belonged to your father!”

'My Love is Lost on the High Wind' by Jac Morris

Dandelion seeds scatter. My love makes a wish. Too late I kiss her silent - by summer she’s gone on the high wind, giddy for adventure. In autumn men come with words that spiral me. She is lost all the bone-cold winter. Come spring, I make a wish. Dandelion seeds scatter.

'The Yard Sale' by Angela James

Everything must go. Neighbours pick through our memories. Bargaining too because what we had was not actually priceless. I send the items out into the world, carefully wrapped and bagged, ready for their second or third or fourth chances to bring happiness to someone else somewhere else. Everything must go.

'Still Beautiful Even When It's Over' by Val Harris

Summer lies, smouldering in October’s hearth. We rake it in, piling the worst of it, the regrets, losses onto the pyre. Set to flames the past; the unwanted dreams, truth and questions. Fallen leaves. They vanish in the smoke. What remains? The ashes of summer lies, smouldering in October’s hearth.

'Paralysis' by Jennifer Mungham

“That tickles!” Molly shrieked happily.

Snatching back her hand with pouting lips. She had shrieked louder when the lorry plowed into her side of the car. Huge, slow falling tears reflected doctors assessing her paralysed legs. Each surgery a lesson in disappointment. One last chance.

“That tickles!” Molly shrieked happily.

'3 Sons' by Scott MacLeod

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad.”

“Thanks son, same to you. Have you heard from your boy?"

“Not yet.” 

“I bet you hear from him by the end of the day.”

“Hold on I’ve got another call coming in. Hello?”

“Hi. I need bail. Oh yeah, almost forgot, Happy Father’s Day, Dad." 

'Amateur Gardening' by Laura Cooney

Vanessa didn't let people walk over her. The mud and blood circling the drain bore witness.

“No more trouble from Linda,” she confidently told the drainer, now adorned with rings. The drying pink plastic tulips were salvageable, a pity about the vase. Inevitable. Vanessa didn't let people walk over her.

‘What’s In A Word?’ by Scaramanga Silk

"It is what it is."

Sue could sense the familiar outcome to this week’s Pub Quiz. 

“Cliff's lot haven’t lost in months! Gits.”

But by my count, we’re a point ahead…

"Final question. What is the SI unit of power?" 

I chuckled whilst feverishly scribbling.

It is 'Watt', it is.

'PAUSE FOR REFLECTION' by Ruth Follan

The water is still. Lovely Lucy reaches down to the surface. Below, her dark twin lifts a translucent hand. Their fingers meet in a dazzling disruption: a chaos of broken sunlight and dissolving limbs. Later, wet footprints lead away. Shards of girl lie on the bank. The water is still.

'My love is lost on the high wind' by Jac Morris

Dandelion seeds scatter. My love blows wishes skyward. Too late I kiss her silent - by
summer she’s gone on the high wind, giddy for adventure. In autumn men come with words
that spiral me. She is lost all the bone-cold winter. Come spring, I make a wish. Dandelion
seeds scatter.

'Life Changing' by Allison Renner

What would you do for ten thousand dollars? She wore a smile; I played it cool. Not desperate to support my kids. I thought it was a joke. 

Turned out to be a dare. I took it and here I am. What would you do for ten thousand dollars?

'Childhood Dream' by Mariella Angela H. Olden

"I want to be a doctor." A neurologist, treating heads and spines. A surgeon, cutting my
skin to stitching hope to heal another’s. A cardiologist, repairing hearts. The white coat
and stethoscope as lifelines. How fulfilling to draw blood for a will to live. "I want to be
a doctor."

'Croutons' by JP Richards

“Croutons make a salad.” I stated this rhetorically, trying to picture pieces of burnt bread folding themselves into a bowl of lettuce. ‘How?’”

“That’s not what I meant,” my wife said impatiently. “I love the crunch; salad’s not a salad without them. Croutons make a salad.”

'The Way Things End' by Melissa Flores Anderson

You started this. You sent the first message. You told me you caught feelings. You asked to meet. You wanted to kiss me. You said you could stay the night. After, you said you needed space. I walked away. I won’t beg for your love. You started this.

 

'Only the Brave' by Jaime Bree

Only the brave dance at midnight. No one went out after dark. The moon dimmed months ago. We became cowards. But, the music inside me needed quelling. A spark to reignite the moon. 

In the cornfield, I moved with the tall grass. Alone. Because, only the brave dance at midnight.

'Moon Jellies' by Judy Darley

I walk beside the Marine Lake, treading from light to shade to light. The pool brims with high
tides and errant waves, salt, small fish and, today, moon jellies. Countless perform their
pulsing inward-outward dance that carries them until they meet a diffraction of drift wood;
seaweed; the Marine Lake wall. Their density, little more compact than the water they live in,
matches the weight of guilt blooming in my veins.
By the time I reach home, you’ve promised to be gone, swept away on the friction of your
confession, which ended the inertia of our fusion while I swallowed my own.

'Morning Glory' by Nina Miller

Please rest your weary head. You worked so hard to catch the rising sun. You opened your petals following its light. Warmed roots in rich soil. Drank all that life offers, from morning dew to afternoon rains. You surrendered to the chill winds of night. Please rest your weary head.

 

NFFD 2024 Prompt #24: Burning the Candle at Both Ends

 

Prompt #24: Burning the Candle at Both Ends
FIRE prompt E

Welcome to The Write-In!  This year, we're celebrating the 2024 National Flash Fiction Day Anthology theme of The Classical Elements - Air, Earth, Water and Fire. Throughout National Flash Fiction Day, we'll be posting one time-related prompt on the hour every hour from 00:00 until midnight (BST), for a total of 25 prompts in all.  You have until midnight on Sunday (BST) to submit your responses for possible publication here at the Write-In.  We'll start posting responses on Sunday, 16 June 2024....

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Here we are at midnight with our last prompt of 2024, so let's celebrate this full twenty-four-hour write-a-thon extravaganza with one final prompt.

Write a 50-word flash (or shorter) that starts and ends with the same sentence.

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If you’re submitting this to us, make sure to note that this is a response to Prompt 24: Burning the Candle at Both Ends.

You can submit responses until 23:59 BST on Sunday, 16 June 2024 for a chance to be published here at The Write-In.

You can claim the badge for this prompt by visiting the badgifier here (hosted by the NFFD website).

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Photo by gfpeck via Flickr (CC BY-ND 2.0)