Tag: Writing
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THE NINE
Rosa Maria watched Alejandro throw open the shutters. On the corner of Calle 9 and Avenue 5, they were open for business. Alejandro looked at his madre. This time he would make her proud. Her husband murdered, they had fled from Tijuana. Rosa Maria had scraped together what she could until she had enough to open the small restaurant. ‘La…
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NEMESIS

I stared at my nemesis. Last night I had thrown the chair into the lake, shouting ‘good riddance’ as I heaved it as far as I could. I heard the splash in the dark. Overnight the lake had frozen. This morning there it was, sitting upright. Waiting for me. Mum saw me looking out the window.…
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SCENE FROM A MARRIAGE

‘What in the name of the Lord is that heap of junk doing here?’ ‘Why it’s the ‘Daisy May.’ You remember, my Grandaddy’s old truck.’ ‘I know what it is, Dennis. I asked what is it doing here, outside my porch.’ ‘Well, Grandma was going to junk it now that Grandaddy has passed on. But…
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ALCOHOLIC

Maisie propped her handmade sign on the dusty old chair. ‘I finished it,’ she announced. Her father looked at the pink and blue flowers and bright childish writing. ‘For sale,’ he read aloud, then looked at his daughter. ‘That’s great, Maisie. What are we selling?’ Maisie gestured to all the junk that filled the garage.…
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25

The plant pot lay in pieces on the pavement. Iain lay unconscious beside it. He should’ve paid more attention. Lady Wisoff-Fields claimed it was accidental. Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above). Last…