#SwiftFicFriday – Week 73 Prompt

#SwiftFicFriday – Week 73 Prompt

Welcome to the new and improved flash fiction writing prompt series – #SwiftFicFriday!

I’ve changed the rules, so if you didn’t see my tweet, check them out!

Rules to keep in mind:

  •  You have THREE DAYS (AM Friday-PM Sunday on the east coast) to submit your entry.
  • Include social media links/handles/anything you want to promote (Twitter, FB, etc) & word count in the comment with your submission.
  • Submission must be between 150-300 words.
  • All stories are property of the authors.
  • Winner will be determined via reader votes on Mondays.

Ready, set, write!

Prompt: We haven’t done a phrase prompt in a while, so let’s write a piece the incorporates the following:

Was it worth it?

Happy writing!

12 thoughts on “#SwiftFicFriday – Week 73 Prompt

  1. Questions without answers, floating through her mind.
    Was it worth it?
    No.
    Yes.
    Maybe.
    She’d waited for this moment too long, and she was finally here, ready to kill her mother’s murderer, a knife to his throat. He was smiling.
    “Kill me,” he said, “and your sister dies.”
    Her sister’s wedding. She could hear them saying “I do,” from her hidden position. A cheer rose as they kissed.
    Was it worth it to sacrifice her sister’s life for revenge?
    He still smiled, and she wanted to slice his throat open, free the blood from his veins, let it pool on the floor, red, smelling of battles and murders. She wanted to make him hurt for what he’d done to her—to her mother.
    “I’ll let your sister go,” he whispered. “Just this once. I’ll return, and neither of us will hesitate then. A fight to the death.”
    She pressed the knife deeper, and a drop of blood flowed down his throat. He didn’t flinch.
    “When?” she said.
    “The top of the castle bell tower, a fortnight from now. I’d say to bring no one with you, but”—he tilted his head toward her sister, dressed in a white, creamy bridal gown—”you already know what will happen if you do. You’re not a fool.”
    “No, I’m not,” she said, considering his offer.
    Was it worth it to do this?
    Was it worth it to go into a duel with an assassin, knowing full well that if she was beaten and killed, her sister’s life would be forfeit?
    Was the revenge worth it?
    Was the assurance that he’d never kill again—never leave a child motherless, never again be paid to do so—worth it?
    Yes.
    She smiled, eyes glittering with rage, with bloodlust. She lowered the dagger from his throat.
    “I’ll be there.”

    300 words

    Home

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Confession

    That Sunday, I was getting the Covid-19 heebie-jeebies. Every day had become the same. Couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing new would ever come down the pike.

    Reading the newspaper didn’t help. Even new atrocities smelled of mould.

    Got me thinking though. About the past. Seemed natural to give some thought to the way it once was or wasn’t.

    Old loves and such.

    The future was looking bleak. Wasn’t getting any younger and at some point, the damn virus was gonna come and get me.

    Or I’d go looking for it.

    Hated being cooped up.

    We’d all become chickens in some monstrous corporate henhouse.

    The Poultry Pandemic.

    It’s always the damn birds.

    To get out of my funk, I decided to go for a walk. A long walk.

    I packed up a knapsack with a few days worth of food, water, put on some old hiking boots, asked Sweeny to look after the cat, said I’d be back in a week. Or sooner.

    Took me two days to reach River Falls. Two little towns over. Grew up there. Made all my mistakes there. Julie being the biggest. Led her on when all I wanted was…well, what I wanted. I was always more important to me than anyone else.

    Julie still lived in the house she grew up in. Raised the boy there. Always wondered what he looked like. Even offered once to help with the cost.

    She would have nothing to do with that.

    You made your bed, she said. We don’t need your guilt money. He’s mine. Not yours.

    I guess I was still angry when I knocked. She wouldn’t let me in. Lost it, I guess.

    You asked me, was it worth it? Killing her? You cops just don’t understand. It’s all about me. Always was.

    Like

  3. “Wait, it’s Easter already?”

    “Of course! Why did you think I was painting all these eggs?”

    Oaklie Anne giggled and hopped over to plant one of her recently dried creations in Brewer Black’s tangled beard. The dwarf turned his eyes suspiciously to the bright bauble in its hirsute nest.

    “I thought that was just a thing you did…”

    Brewer and his partner, the elegant Emathyst Flower, pulled the party’s sleigh over grassy flowered hills, aided by a bit of bunny magic, while their reindeer rested. Oaklie bounced to Emathyst next, placing an egg that the elf balanced with congenial ease atop her head. The dwarf turned his wide-eyed worry to the druidess leading their way.

    “Did we miss your holiday?!”

    “Saint Patrick’s Day?” Bluebelle laughed gently over her shoulder. “We observed that a few Wednesdays ago.”

    While Bluebelle watched Brewer turn this information over in his mind, Oaklie slipped a colored egg into the druidess’ jacket pocket.

    “When I conjured the keg of stout?”

    “I thought that was just a thing you did…” Brewer repeated with a nonplussed grunt of acceptance.

    Oaklie handed the next egg to Vedania Oathsworn. She knew better than to try to plant anything on the stern cupid. No holiday had been the same on this journey. Vedania wouldn’t admit it, but Oaklie felt the archer needed to reconnect with her holiday more than of any of them. They’d each given up a lot to be here. Was it worth it?

    The bunny cadet presented the basket of remaining eggs and candies to the human girl, Jinx, they were doing this for.

    “Don’t worry,” Oaklie smiled. “We’ll get things sorted out with your mama; everything will be okay!”

    None of their holidays meant anything without the people who experienced them. Of course it was worth it.

    300 Four Sisters AU words
    @DavidALudwig

    Liked by 2 people

  4. “Can I?”
    “Can you what?”
    “You know.”
    “Yes I do.”
    “Well. Can I?”
    “Of course you can.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Ah.”
    “Ah?”
    “You can. But you may not.”
    “Not this again.”
    “It’s English 101. Must we go through this again?”
    “Okay. I can. But may I?”
    “No.”
    “What do you mean ‘no.’”
    “English 101 again. No means no.”
    “Why are you so cruel.”
    “You love it. Admit it.”
    “I love you. Does that count?”
    “It counts for something. A whole lot in fact.”
    “And the other thing. May I?”
    “Why do you love me?”
    “What?”
    “You said you love me. Why?”
    “I’ve told you a thousand times.”
    “And I like to hear it each one.”
    “I love you because…well, because I can’t imagine a world without you.”
    “And do you have a good imagination?”
    “I think so.”
    “And are you imagining me now?”
    “If I weren’t imagining you now I wouldn’t be so desperate.”
    “Desperate?”
    “You know. English 102. Desperate.”
    “For me?”
    “Yes for you.”
    “You’re sweet.”
    “And?”
    “And? Oh yes. I love you to.”
    “And?”
    “Okay. You may.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Happy to oblige.”
    “And did you?”
    “Of course. It was worth it to me. Was it worth it to you?”
    “The wait?”
    “Yes. The wait.”
    “Always is.”
    “When does your flight get in?”
    “I’ll be home at about two.”
    “See you then.”
    “And you. Sleep tight.”
    “Oh. I will.”
    Oh. I Will. 229 words by Joseph P. Garland @JPGarlandAuthor

    Liked by 1 person

  5. But Izzy had been more watchful and suspicious than her brother. Bianca had always recognized the lioness in her daughter, and Izzy was showing just how protective she could be. The only time Bianca had seen her daughter’s face relax was when she talked with Khalid. She’d smile and laugh with bright eyes and warm cheeks. Apparently, she thought he looked as handsome as Bianca did.

    “Khalid’s a good guy, isn’t he?” Bianca watched her daughter respond to the firefighter’s flirting.

    “He is. All of the men on my team are good, though Khalid is a bit of a flirt.” Sandor sipped some of the Zombie punch Sophie had made.

    Bianca frowned. “He won’t toy with her, will he?”

    He shook his head. “No, plus he knows she’s human. That will make him extra careful.”

    Bianca blinked. “Is he a Zomok too?”

    “No, Khalid and his cousin Saif are Ifrits, fire djinn.”

    “Really?” She let her gaze return to the men dressed like the cast of Aladdin. “You have a very diverse team, Sandor.”

    “Yes, I do. And all of them would protect you and your family in a heartbeat.”

    She sighed, a smile curling her lips as she watched Izzy and Trey interact with the firefighters. It felt like home to her, where her family could be safe.

    “Are you happy, szivem?” Sandor kissed the side of her head.

    “Yeah, definitely.” She glanced up at him and smirked. “You know how long I’ve waited for my very own dragon.”
    He laughed. “Was it worth it?”

    “Hell yeah.” She grinned up at him. “I’m keeping you.”

    He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve heard of a ‘kept man’ but never a ‘kept dragon’.”

    “Then you get to be the first.” And she dragged his head down for a kiss.

    297 #ElementalHearts words
    @SiobhanMuir

    Author’s note: The name Sandor is pronounced “Shawn-dor”

    Liked by 1 person

  6. It took a while, but I finally convinced myself I’d been asleep long enough, and should wake up, and get back to doing whatever needed doing. I opened my eyes, and looked around.

    I was in a bland looking room, with beige walls, a flat white ceiling, and a floor I couldn’t see. Because I was also in a bed, flat on my back. Without looking, I managed to figure out I had something stuck in my right arm, held in place by tape.

    Deborah noticed I was awake, “Oh! Welcome back, sleepy head!”

    I would have said something, but I hadn’t remembered how vocal chords worked at that point.

    “Glad you’re back among the living.”

    I managed to turn my head a bit to the left, toward her, and my eyes the rest of the way, so I could see her.

    “Don’t worry about talking. I know.” I don’t think I ever mentioned how much I loved her smile. “Just like I knew you’d wake up when you were ready.”

    Someone appeared next to her and shined this bright damn light in my eyes, and checked my pulse. “We were a bit concerned when you got here.”

    That’s when I remembered how to say one word sentences. “What?”

    “Do you remember any of what happened?” I realized Deborah was holding my hand. “Or have you blocked it out?”

    “Boom…” That’s all I could say.

    “Yeah. That sums it up.”

    I pretended to smile, “OK?”

    “I’m dinged up, a few bruises, and a concussion. But OK.” She held my hand a bit tighter. “You made sure you got in the way.” Her eyes looked nervous. “Was it worth it?”

    “Yes.” It was time to try more than one word. “Keep you safe.”

    298 Words
    @mysoulstears

    Liked by 1 person

  7. The Look
    His childhood home is evolving to the next stage of its life cycle. Dad’s old chair replaced by a fancy recliner. The flowery two-seater sofa now a more natural cream. Mementos becoming memories. He can hear his mum in the kitchen preparing tea and biscuits. She considers him posh now. Well, he wears a suit all day and has a security team outside.
    His mum enters, unsteady on her feet, the tea tray rattling. He only watches her face, waiting for the ‘was it worth it’ look.
    Yes, is always his answer. Now he has evidence, hundreds, no thousands of letters from the people he’s helped. The words he turns to on the bad days, when the hours feel too long and the media attacks too savage. Yet, they are nothing compared to that look from his mum. The one she is hiding today.
    He takes the tray and sets it down on the coffee table between them.
    “Are you eating enough?”
    “Probably not. The election is taking up a lot of time.”
    “Will you win?”
    “Hopefully.”
    She nods and pours a cup of tea. Today there will be no look.
    191 Words
    @The_Red_Fleece

    Liked by 1 person

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