The Bequest — FFfAW

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Mike Vore. Thank you Mike for our photo prompt!

Title: The Bequest
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Week of March 7, 2017
Word count: 170 words

Harper read the will multiple times, but one bequest still confused her. Alzheimer’s took Mother, but the will was written when she was still lucid, just after Dad past away. There hadn’t been a will when Dad died, but Mother demanded she have one.

Named the executor, Harper found most of Mother’s wishes easy to honor, some even mundane. Still she left one task undone. The attorney finally insisted she finish so the case could be closed.

As Mother wished, the brand new grand piano was delivered to Harper’s house. She placed it in a rarely used room, where it wouldn’t make her wonder.

Months later Aunt Martha came to visit and asked about the piano. Harper told her the story, confessing her bewilderment. Martha hugged her and explained.

“As a little girl, you begged for piano lessons. They couldn’t afford the piano or the lessons. Your mother always regretted it. You don’t remember?”

When Martha left, the piano was moved to the living room and at last Harper understood.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Dinner – FFfAW

Photo prompt is provided by MajesticGoldenRose

Photo prompt is provided by MajesticGoldenRose

Title: Dinner

Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Week of February 28, 2017

Word count: 170 words

The children needed to learn there was more than video games and concrete. So, he moved them to the farm and his own childhood. Three faces, alternating between angelic and devilish, kept him on his toes. He had prepared them for today.

“Remember what I told you. The cow is not a pet. We are not naming the cow. He is someone’s dinner. While the cow is here we will feed him, and give him a good life.”

The children had been excited, petting and feeding the cow and asking question after question. He answered while gently reminding them not to name the cow. At last they headed into the house for dinner, homework and bed.

The next afternoon three excited children leapt off the school bus yelling as they ran up the lane.

“Whoa, slow down, one at a time.”

“Daddy can we go feed Dinner now.”

“Dinner?”

“Yes, Dinner the cow.”

“What?”

“You said the cow was Dinner.”

He shook his head and laughed.

“Let’s go feed Dinner.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Lost and Found– FFfAW

This week's photo prompt is provided by Dawn Miller for our photo prompt this week!

Photo prompt is provided by Dawn Miller for our photo prompt this week!

Title: Lost and Found

Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Week of February 21, 2017

Word count: 115 words

The roller bag bumped into her leg as she pulled it to a stop next to the railing. She stared at the crowd below, as they hurried to their destination. A tear slid down her cheek.

She had looked for another option, a way out. This was the decision, but it wasn’t much of a choice. No going back, only forward. But forward to where? She looked up hoping for inspiration.

Suddenly, she knew. The answer couldn’t be planned, she needed to improvise. Do something that was out of character, something she would never do, something no one would expect.

Wiping the tears away, she grabbed the bag and headed outside to the taxi stand.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Follow the Light – FFfAW

photo prompt provided by Sunayana with MoiPensieve

photo prompt provided by Sunayana with MoiPensieve

Title: Follow the Light
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Week of February 14, 2017
Word count: 170 words

The day spiraled in a cycle of meetings, client revisions and more meetings Her watch marked time slipping away. The deal was struck and the obligatory dinner celebration began. Thanks, but she had to go.

They rescheduled her flight. It was the last one leaving JFK. She wouldn’t get to Paris until midafternoon. Her watch ticked. Finally, she escaped and hailed a cab.

Hurry, she nearly screamed.

“Lady! You blind? Construction” he gestured at the orange signs.

She arrived at the gate just in time to board, only to discover the flight was being delayed. Weather, they said.

It was dark as she pushed past the crazy scooters. Their shrill horns marking her audacity. Almost there. She found the door and leaned hard to open it. It slammed shut as she dropped her bag and raced up the three flights

The nurse met her at the door. Her grim face said everything.

“Papa?”

“I’ve been waiting.”

“Papa, did you see the lights?”

He nodded feebly.

“Yes Angel. My beautiful Angel.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer