Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 39

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Just a reminder: It's okay to leave comments!

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Everyone likes a little flash fiction, right? Thanks to a prompt from Miranda Kate's 39th Mid-Week Flash challenge, you're going to get some! This is from Miranda's post:

This week's photo prompt was taken by Piroshki-Photography, a Serbian photographer. You can find more of their photos on their page at Deviant Art. They call this one 'Curved Reality'. It was taken in Santa Margherita Ligure, in Genoa, Italy.

If you want to join in, here's what she's looking for:

General Guidelines:

Story length: Anything up to 750 Words (no minimum).
How enter: Either provide a link in the comments, or post the entire story in the comments.
Deadline: I will post a new one every Wednesday, but if you're inspired by a previous weeks, go ahead and write for it.
Genre/Theme: All/Any - completely open. It doesn't even have to refer to the picture.

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I've written short sci-fi piece this time. It's called Accounting Problem. The story is posted on my Patreon site (free access). I wanted to put a mention here for anyone following my blog especially since so few know about my Patreon site. You can access my story by clicking the title below (and I've put a little preview below).

Accounting Problem

Preview: 

Of course, there had been anomalies: satellites in disturbed orbits, aircraft that went off course, inexplicable tidal surges, and more than a few people claimed to have had peculiar visions when gazing into the sky. The leaders of the major governments all dismissed these as hoaxes, the working of deranged minds, or even as acts of God, but they all knew. Now, however, the effects were obvious to everyone. The cat, so to speak, was out of the bag. Schrödinger's cat, apparently.

To continue reading, go to my Patreon site (free access for all on this story).

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© 2017 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 26

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Just a reminder: It's okay to leave comments!

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Everyone likes a little flash fiction, right? Thanks to a prompt from Miranda Kate's 26th Mid-Week Flash challenge, you're going to get some! This is from Miranda's post:

I tracked this week's photo prompt down to being taken by Niki Feijen, a male Dutch photographer. The Internet says it is an abandoned chateau in Belgium, but I can't confirm that, or, if it was, which chateau it was taken in. Such a shame.

As soon as I looked at this picture I saw these two characters sitting in the chairs, but what were they saying? And what was their story? So I wrote it to find out. What will you see?

If you want to join in, here's what she's looking for:

General Guidelines:

Story length: Anything up to 750 Words (no minimum).
How enter: Either provide a link in the comments, or post the entire story in the comments.
Deadline: I will post a new one every Wednesday, but if you're inspired by a previous weeks, go ahead and write for it.
Genre/Theme: All/Any - completely open. It doesn't even have to refer to the picture.

And so I preseent my entry for this round of the Mid-Week Flash Challenge.

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Musical Chairs

    A grey-haired man, testing each step with his cane, shuffled deliberately along the main hall of the old mansion. A woman held his arm, steadying him as she guided him through the debris on the floor. He stopped when he came to a small sunroom at the end. In the center were two dust-covered chairs. A tremor-ridden hand covered his mouth as he whispered, "Dear God..."
    "This? This is what you came thousands of miles to see, father?"
    "Yes. I'd heard the chateau was still standing. I can't believe how little has changed. Even the chairs are here."
    "What's so important about a couple of dirty chairs?"
    "Only one of them is important." He raised his cane and shakily pointed it towards the chair to his right. "That one," he said. 
    "They look the same to me."
    "Perhaps so, but they're not." He took a deep breath before continuing. "That's where I sat."
    "I don't understand."
    "It was January of forty-five. I'd been wounded in the Ardennes—my arm and leg. You know the story. They had made this place into a makeshift hospital being it was so close to the front. I'd been here a little over a week and was recovering quickly. There were all kinds of people running about in here—doctors, nurses, wounded coming in and being sent out. They sat a few of us that were doing better in this room to get some sun. It was cold day. Lots of snow. But we were quite warm sitting in the bright light coming through the windows. Somebody brought in a phonograph and put on a few scratchy old records. I swear I can still hear it playing. The staff were all dashing around trying to care for us and asking everyone to quiet down. A couple of the guys started joking about how we should play musical chairs. That would have been a laugh—most of us couldn't even walk. I guess we were getting pretty rowdy."
    The old man stopped talking, his eyes slowly scanning the room.
    "Are you all right, father? Perhaps we should go. You're tired."
    "There was this girl—pretty—young, though not much younger than me. I never knew her name. She wasn't a nurse—just a local girl helping out. The music was playing when she walked by. I reached out and put my good arm around her waist. That knocked her off balance and she fell over the arm of the chair into my lap. I tried to explain about musical chairs, but I didn't know enough French and she didn't know enough English. Whatever she said to me, I could tell she was plenty mad. She raised her hand to slap me. That's when we heard the window glass break. I saw her expression change.
    "We were miles behind the Allied lines. We thought we were safe. A German sniper changed all that. The bullet buried itself in her chest. If she hadn't been in front of me, it would have been my chest. She died before her body hit the floor. They told me she was only seventeen. It was supposed to be me. Soldiers die, you know. That's what we do. Not seventeen year-old girls."
    "That must have been horrible, father. Is that why you were always so protective of me?"
    "I did what I could prevent anything from happening to you, but it doesn't make up for what I did that day. She might still be alive if it wasn't for me."
    The old man grabbed his chest. His knees buckled.
    "Father!"
    "Let me sit," he said, stumbling over to the chair.
    "I'll get help!"
    He just shook his head. "This is how it's supposed to be, isn't it? I'm just a little late."
    "Please, father! Don't try to talk. I'll find someone to help."
    He shook his head again, then stopped. His hand lost its grip on the cane. His shoulders slumped.
    Then all was quiet in the room with the two chairs. The music had finally stopped.
     

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 675 words without the title... 

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© 2017 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

Dick Blick Art Contest

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Just a reminder: It's okay to leave comments!

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Many artists in the US are familiar with the Dick Blick art supply business. I buy stuff there myself from time to time. Unlike Amazon, what I purchase from them usually arrives undamaged. I consider that a plus.

As a promotion, they are holding a contest (or "challenge" as they call it, probably for legal reasons) for US citizens through October for pen and ink drawings.

You can submit a new one each day. If yours is selected, you could win art supplies. Sounds like a way to get your work noticed (without a lot of effort or expense) and you might even get something for it. There is a gallery if you just want to browse the submissions.

You can get the details here: DICK BLICK PEN & INK CHALLENGE

I don't receive anything for promoting this, but I might see if I can dig up a picture to send in!

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© 2017 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

HB Challenge #8 - Wrapped In A Mystery

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Horror Bites Challenge #8

From the Office Mango website:

Anyway went a bit mad on holiday and got some random pictures that I hope over the new few months will inspire some horrific tales.

1:  Tales can be posted on your blogs & then just add to the wee linky tool, or add as a comment if you don’t have a blog.

2:  A word count of 250-300.

3:  Try to scare me, or at the very least create a little bit of darkness.

4:  This will be a fortnightly (two weeks) challenge from when the post goes live, so you’ve got plenty thinking time.

So come on what are you waiting for, go find your inner demons and get your scare on!

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They say you should keep a little mystery in your relationship...

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Wrapped in a Mystery

    "There's not a single person in the pool, Bob, or even next to it. Not that anyone would blame them. A third disappearance from this very hotel in as many weeks is a bit much. 
    "That's true, though I guess it's good for us, Debbie. We have the place all to ourselves and we can pick any spot we want."
    "You know there are all kinds of terrible stories about what might have happened. When I went out to get a bottle of wine last night, I heard some of the hotel staff talking about it."
    "Like what?"
    "Kidnappings, murders, even abductions by little green men from outer space. The police are baffled, they said. It's a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. No evidence, no witnesses, and no clue of any kind."
    Debbie stretched out on a lounge chair, pulled her floppy hat over her eyes, and wrapped a beach towel around her legs to protect them from the sun.
    "Well, I'm sure they'll figure it out eventually," Bob said. "We're on a tiny little island, after all. Nobody can get away without someone noticing. Everyone's seen the pictures of the missing people. If they're alive, they can't sneak off, and if they're dead, there's no place to easily hide the bodies." 
    "I don't know, Bob. We are in the Bermuda Triangle."
    "Now don't be silly, Debbie. Nobody believes that stuff," Bob replied as they both laughed.
    "Still, it does make one wonder, doesn't it?"
    There was no reply, so she continued with the conversation.
    "Do you know what time it is? I don't want to be late for dinner." 
    Answered only by silence, Debbie lifted the brim of her hat to see an empty chair next to hers.
    "Bob?"

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Perhaps he just had to use the restroom. Or not...

(293 words without the title)

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Previous Horror Bites challenges: 

If The Shoe Fits (#7)
You Won't Feel A Thing (#6)
The Wings of Death (#5)

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© 2012-2014 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

FSF Challenge - Fearless

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This week's writing challenge from Five Sentence Fiction ( Lillie McFerrin Writes ) is based upon the prompt: Fearless

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week Lillie posts one word for inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word.

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This may be he shortest FSF Challenge post I've ever done - and perhaps one of the scariest.

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Lines

Source: http://www.blogs.va.gov/VAntage/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/WV1.jpg 
via http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-fearless/

    "What happened, Colonel? They're unarmed nurses, not infantry. They were supposed to move close to the enemy lines—not over."
    "They didn't, sir. While tending to the wounded, the lines moved behind them."

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Image source: http://www.blogs.va.gov/VAntage/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/WV1.jpg
Description: Female nurses in 1944.

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© 2012-2014 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

FSF Challenge - Rain

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This week's writing challenge from Five Sentence Fiction ( Lillie McFerrin Writes ) is based upon the prompt: Rain

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week Lillie posts one word for inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word.

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A short one this week...

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Tears Among the Raindrops
 

 

Falling_rain_in_Mexico.jpg
© Tomas Castelazo, www.tomascastelazo.com /
 Wikimedia Commons /
CC-BY-SA-3.0, via Wikimedia Commons
 

    He found her standing outside a café as the rain began to fall, broken-hearted and sobbing. He had always loved her, and hoped someday she would notice, but as he walked her home through the downpour, she vowed never to let herself fall for another man. 
    "I like the rain," she said, tilting her face up toward the sky. "It hides my tears."
    "Mine, too," he replied.

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Image source:  http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3AFalling_rain_in_mexico.jpg  
Description: Falling rain in downtown Leon, Guanajuato, Mexico.

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© 2012-2014 K. R. Smith All rights reserved

A New Writing Challenge

Here's a link to a new writing challenge called the Light and Shade Challenge! Please check them out! I'll put a link on my Writing Resources page when I get a chance.

Light and Shade Challenge: About The Challenges: Every Monday a picture and a quote will be posted. These are the prompts, an invitation for you to take any spark they give you and write a... (go to the site to see more)

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© 2012-2014 K. R. Smith All rights reserved