81 Words Flash Fiction Writing Challenge – Stories Page 6

Story 501:

INTENTIONAL PARENTING

by Aigbonoga Omoh

Fatima and Ken grew as friends and were always together. Just a few people knew that they were neighbours, living in flats opposite one another.

Even as teenagers, their bond was strong and built on intimacy. When intimacy is established, it becomes difficult to separate both parties.

No man can put fire in his heart without being burnt. From the holding of hands, to kissing, then romance and finally… more.

Where were the parents of these youngsters when all this happened?

Story 513:

OUTSIDE HER WINDOW

by Gary Couzens

The blizzard made Helen's window rattle, almost as if someone was tapping on it, calling her. I'm safe and warm, she thought. She wrapped the duvet about herself, slept.

In the morning, Helen went outside into the garden. She gasped. The thick smooth snow was scarred by prints, two feet cloven like a goat's but walking upright. The track went across the garden towards the garage wall, then along its roof to the back of the house, just under her window.

Story 515:

ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE

by Philip Charter

I left a bobby pin on his nightstand, so she'd see it.

Last time I did something like this, things got explosive, but honesty means more to me than the idea of 'the one'.

Every relationship forms a chapter in the book of me. This one's been pretty wild.

I'm not crazy. I'm not jealous or possessive. I just need to know how much of what he said is real. Now I'll wait to see how this chapter continues… or ends.

Story 516:

THE PRIORITIES OF JOAN

by Amelia Brown

Joan stared with intensity at the plant, as she had all day, willing it to disappear. Her mind was clear, ready for the final step – the magic. She cracked her knuckles and closed her eyes.

Raising her hands, Joan said the incantation. She waited, then opened one eye. She sighed; nothing had happened. Walking over, she picked up the plant and tossed it in the compost. After all, in a world of books and chocolate, she had better things to do.

Story 517:

THE PASSENGER

by Gitanjali Escobar Travieso

Four in the morning, the streets still dark and quiet. He boards the bus and sits down, his feet slightly touching the large brown suitcase that he has carefully stowed close to his seat.

With an almost inaudible sigh, he leans back and relaxes, his eyes, half closed, not really looking anywhere. He does not want to part from his dream. But all too soon a cool breeze softly touches his face and he realises he has passed by his stop.

Story 518:

SENSELESS WAR

by Ezeh Michael Ogonna

We are running again today, terrified, the same way we ran ten months ago. Later that week, the government, as usual, announced we could go about our normal business without fear of being shot in the back.

Rumour had it that a herdsman's cow was killed ten months ago, and they needed to pay back. Blood for blood.

"Hurry, I think someone killed another cow," Mum cried.

As we raced homeward, past the sirens and chaotic crowd, I heard another gunshot.

Story 531:

LANDERS AND WILSON, INCORPORATED

by Julia T. Spano

"Should we invest in it?" said one businessman to the other.

"Possibly," Landers replied, biting his knuckle. "It will be a very expensive venture, Wilson. There's no guarantee we'll ever see a profit from it, we'll need some loans, the liability rate is…"

"…High. But give it twenty years or so, and it may represent a positive return on our investment."

They stared down at the gurgling new-born baby.

"Very well," Landers sighed. "I just hope our partnership can handle it."

Story 543:

GONE

by Anna Sanderson

I remembered her the best way I knew how.

I went to the bar, ordered her favourite drink.

Each sweet sip erased another painful memory: the sickening sound of Mother's cry when she heard (gone); her coffin, lighter on my shoulder than the guilt (gone); my sister's lifeless body on the concrete, consumed by narcotics. Too young. Too cold. Too still (gone).

I remembered her the best way I knew how. I drank until I forgot she was no longer there.

Story 568:

NEVER KNOWING WHAT CAME NEXT

by Barnaby Page

They met at 9: adjacent desks, glances, then giggles.

At 18, each wondered if the other was the one, or if this was merely, concerningly, inertia.

At 27, he wondered again, and took a woman's number in a bar.

At 36, he rediscovered the scrap of paper and couldn't remember whose the number was.

At 45, they rediscovered each other.

At 54, they were young, they thought; likewise at 63.

At 72, she felt him drifting, faintly, but still there, always.

Story 598:

WHEN THE WORLD ENDED

by Beth Kander

I was in the bathroom when the world ended. It's not where anyone intends to be at a time like that, but there I was, on the pot.

When you think about it, at any given moment, millions of people are relieving themselves. I found some comfort in that, in those last moments. A sense of community.

After years of loneliness, I felt kinship with every other soul who was literally caught with their pants down when it all went dark.

Story 600:

UTERO

by Judi Edwards

The fierce breeze lifts Monia's hair from the back of her hot neck as the queue shuffles forwards. The friends wait, ready to raise the child as decreed by the matriarchs. Thoughts of the unknown donor fill her mind. Does he think of her? Of her baby? Of the many children he's fathered?

Feeling the life move inside her, she strokes her stomach whispering, "Soon. Be ready."

Her fifth and final baby for the population. She feels proud. She feels alone.