Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #151: The Spelling Bee

Image Credit: Darius Bashar at Unsplash.com.

For the visually challenged writer, the photo shows a woman sitting at a desk writing something down in a notebook. She’s sitting inside and is framed by a window.


Hazel sat back in her chair, glaring out of the window, whilst feral kids charged about, yelling at the tops of their voices. If she wasn’t so drained, she would have done something about them ages ago. But she had little left to give.

Why were some mother’s so ruddy useless? Couldn’t they teach their annoying progeny better manners than this? But no, they sat around, laughing and gossiping while their ankle-biters ran riot. So much for taking a quiet moment to recharge herself.

She grimaced as one brat barrelled into her table, sending a wave of hot chocolate spattering across her notebook. Hazel got him when he pelted past again. She itched to do worse but could only clench a fist and smother a grin as the rug-rat tumbled arse over tip on the hardwood floor.

One of the mother’s, his presumably, darted over and hoisted him to his feet. Hazel made a shooing motion and tilted her head. The woman paused for a second, then loudly informed her friends she was taking Charlie home. There was a flurry of kisses and goodbyes, and she left with another child in tow.

Hazel concentrated, and within minutes they’d all gone, leaving messy tables and upturned chairs. The soothing sounds of gentle conversation, interspersed with the delicate clinks of cutlery on china, washed over her. She smiled with relief: this was just what she needed. Hazel closed her eyes and flexed her right hand: Nothing happened. She frowned and tried the left hand. It wouldn’t move.

“Not working, is it!” A gleeful voice whispered behind her. “And it won’t, not while I’ve got strength in my body.”

Hazel struggled to turn around.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” The unseen speaker continued. “You ain’t going anywhere until you pay me for loss of earnings.”

“What are you talking about?” Hazel spoke with great effort.

“The Mummy Club. They were good for another fifty quid this afternoon, but thanks to you, they’ve all buggered off.”

“Sorry,” Hazel panted; it really was getting harder to talk. “If you release me, I can go to a cash point.”

“I don’t want your money.” Hazel felt a light pressure on the back of her neck. “You’re not the only one who knows the art of regenerative assimilation.”

A low hum filled her ears, and her vision faded. “You’ll be fine in a minute or two. Just don’t expect to do anything like this for a very long time.”

The last thing Hazel heard before she lost consciousness was the voice hissing: “And that’ll teach you to pick on children.”


Flash fiction inspired by:
RDP Monday prompt: spatter
Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge 151
Ritu Bhathal’s prompt of chocolate for JusJoJan 10th Jan 2022

The Merry Widow

“Mum, a naked man just walked past the kitchen window.”

“Does he have only one testicle?” asked Dora.

“I didn’t look that closely.” Janice spun around in shock. “How many naked men have you had in your garden?”

“A cup of tea, dear?” Dora giggled and poured milk into their cups.

“The tea goes in first.” Janice tutted and pulled her chair out from under the table, scraping it along the floor.

“Mind the lino,” murmured Dora.

“Sod the lino! What is that man doing gallivanting around in the buff in your garden?”

“I said he could. Biscuit? Oh, I keep forgetting about your latest diet. You see, his place is overlooked by the nursery school, so he couldn’t do it there.”

“But what’s he actually doing?”

“Probably one of his rain dances. He has fanciful notions like that. But I do enjoy Desmond’s company.” Dora reached over and patted Janice’s hand. “Your father would have liked him.”

“Really?”

“It’s lovely to have a man about the place again. No one can replace Ted, but Des is so sweet. He put up my new shelves and fixed the leaky bathroom tap.”

“Not in the nude, I hope.”

“Don’t be silly, far too dangerous. Why do you think he’s only got one ball?”

“Mother!”

“He wore my cooking apron and a pair of rigger boots.”

A pounding on the patio door made them both jump. Desmond stood there with only a Union Jack flag covering his glory.

“Dora, my love,” he called. “I think it’s worked.” He waved the flag at them as he skipped backwards.

Janice sat there with her mouth open. Something wasn’t right here.

“You’ll catch flies that way,” laughed her mother. “Come on, get undressed and let’s dance naked in the rain.”

“You must be joking!”

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud.” Dora was already down to her petticoat.

Janice picked up her handbag. “I’m sorry, mother, but I’m going now.”

“Your loss.” Dora gave her a hug and a kiss. “Goodbye, darling.”

Janice was halfway down the drive before she realised Desmond had two testicles.


Written using these daily prompts:
Three Things Challenge (POUND SCRAPE BUFF)
The Daily Spur (Union)
Your Daily Word Prompt (Gallivant)

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Colour Blind

LindaGHill hosts Stream of Consciousness Saturday.
The prompt this week is color/colour.
Use it as a noun, a verb, or pick a colour and write about it.
The post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing
(typos can be fixed), and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.
Click HERE for the rest of the rules, and to play along.


What do you see?
Do you see black or white?
Do you see pink or grey?
Do you see yellow or brown?
Or are you colour blind?
And you see only people?

Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Hope

LindaGHill hosts Stream of Consciousness Saturday.
The prompt this week is hope. Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!
The post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing
(typos can be fixed), and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.
Click HERE for the rest of the rules, and to play along.


I hope…

…I am finally free from the shadow cast by the most selfish person I ever had the displeasure to meet. “I’ll be with Jerry for life,” she once told me whilst at the same time making goo-goo eyes at my husband. And he, like a blind dick, fell for it.

…she is happy now she’s left her precious husband and moved in with someone else’s man.

…both Jerry and the new boyfriend’s soon-to-be ex-wife recover from their broken hearts.

…I can find it in my heart to forgive her for messing with my husband’s head and making my life a misery for the last year.

…she one day realises the extent of her betrayal: so much for friendship and integrity.

…the hatred I feel towards her disappears. But it was either hate the other woman or hate him, my husband, the father of our children and my best friend.

…he will never make that mistake again.

…he never finds out I knew all about it

…he realises we still have a future because he doesn’t know it, but I forgave him long ago.

Overchoice

She holds up two dresses. ‘The blue or the red?’

‘You look gorgeous in either,’ he says.

‘I think I’ll wear the green one.’

In the restaurant, she can’t decide between the sirloin steak or the lemon sole.

‘But if I have steak, which sauce do I choose?’

‘Why not try the beef stroganoff?’ he suggests.

‘Good choice, but I fancy chargrilled chicken tonight.’

Later, they pore over the dessert menu.

‘I hate making decisions.’ She looks up. ‘Why are you smiling?’

‘I have a simple question, just answer yes or no. Will you marry me?’