#SwiftFicFriday – Week 108 Prompt

#SwiftFicFriday – Week 108 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!

The gist:

  • 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: This week, I had a glass dish explode in the oven, and ended up having to improvise the night’s protein. We went from having bacon-wrapped, cheese-stuffed chicken to frozen meatballs. In the spirit of improv and quick-thinking, write a story where the main character is forced to adjust to a sudden change or unforeseen issue.

Happy writing!

7 thoughts on “#SwiftFicFriday – Week 108 Prompt

  1. Existential Toast

    I tried my best. I really did. Wandered around my woodpile counting spiders for an hour wondering at the wisdom of this Friday exercise, the direction I was being drawn along into.
    Then I came into the house, switched on the Tube…and there was THEM. The giant ant movie. Great movie but it started niggling in my brain. Ants becoming carnivorous.
    The theme was everywhere it seemed.
    It didn’t escape me that atomic bombed ants and the current Russia Ukraine crisis had some metaphorical intersections, even if they were both remotely possible.
    Hopefully, they are not connected at all.
    Still, I had this conundrum.
    Real-time writers’ angst.
    I hate angst.
    Ant Angst.
    Author Angst.
    And the last thing I wanted to do was reference someone’s culinary habits, their quaint cuisine.
    We’ve all got our occasionally peculiar eating habits, at least those of us in the first world who have an abundance of choice about what we ingest. I won’t start revealing mine, but I will try to get you to imagine me, an aging fellow, as a teen home alone in the evening, watching that very same movie, THEM, eating raw onion and Velveeta cheese, my forever go-to comfort food, and being scared witless.
    Nice image, right!
    So here I am,
    Same movie and the image of bacon-wrapped, cheese-stuffed chicken. Even in my most pre-vegetarian world, I would not have gone there. Could not have imagined such a thing.
    And now, this very moment. It is all I want.
    My pescatarian predilections are in flux.
    The food world I have created, that my life partner and I have worked assiduously for is in real and literary jeopardy.
    All because a bacon-wrapped, cheese-stuffed chicken feast detonated in Katheryn’s stove.
    Thanks a bunch, Kat.

    294 words (including title)

    Liked by 2 people

  2. It took a month and a half for Toni Tyler to find the squalid apartment of her father’s killer. Truepatriot, Realhero, and ProudRevolutionary were clearly pseudonyms. Pseudonyms PRUDENT still didn’t have, let alone the trail of internet purchases leading to the neighborhood leading to the apartment. She should have called in her information. Let one of their powered operatives handle it.

    Instead, she customized a fleet of drones, learned to fly with them, and made a belt of gadgets on the side. Now she was outside the sixth-floor window of a murderer, wearing a motorcycle jacket and helmet with a voice changer. Locked. The jackass might actually have an idea how many people could fly in this city.

    Toni was a little surprised there hadn’t been an attempt on her life since taking over her father’s board seat at PRUDENT. It would have saved her a lot of searching. She swept her laser pen between the window rail and sill, burning through the latch.

    She slipped silently in and began a full spectrum sweep of the rathole. Her mother was having a hard time taking over as CEO of their private company, Tyler Enterprises, but soon Toni would be able to help. Once she’d delivered the justice her father deserved. Not the mercy his heroes favored.

    It wouldn’t be as good as if Toni had answered her phone that night, but it would be something. She opened a tattered journal with a gloved hand. Her heart dropped.

    “Three Ring!” Toni activated her comm to the superhero investigating her father’s murder. “I found my father’s killer!”

    “What!? Where?” the powered’s groggy voice suggested he’d been napping.

    “I don’t know!” Toni cried. “But he didn’t kill a PRUDENT board member; he killed the CEO of Tyler Enterprises! He’s after my mom!”

    299 PRUDENT words

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Lonesome, by Joseph P. Garland, @JPGarlandAuthor. 300 Words

    Bliss. To be floating lazily with my best friend—Audrey and I met as Holyoke freshmen—on this last afternoon alone. The husbands were coming up later and staying till Labor Day. The kids were at camp.

    One last afternoon spent on the small lake in the small canoe that came with the house. There were others, also from the city, rowing. Conversations carried across the placid water. You could listen to the gossip without listening for the gossip. Like at dinner parties.

    Heaven. Especially after two humid days. The sky was rocket blue unmarred by a cloud, and Audrey and I sat on either end with our wide-brimmed hats warding off the sun.

    “Don’t forget you’re bringing the wine,” Susie called about Saturday’s party at her house as she and Alison rowed past, and I promised I wouldn’t.

    My right hand was dragging along the water’s crust when Audrey said, “Shit.” I turned. A cloud bank was racing over the hills on the New York border. “We’d better get in.” The other couples were doing that, though we were a bit farther out.

    We struggled to get the oars back in place and I moved to row. Audrey sat at the stern facing me. There was a sudden wind, and a sheet of rain came from nowhere drenching us. She started laughing at my awkwardness as I tried to get a rhythm. We’d barely moved. Suddenly an oar came out, and the boat rocked and began to flip.

    When I got it under control, she was gone. Then she was off to the left and I tried to grab her and I reached the oar to her but she couldn’t get a hold of it and after bobbing up and flailing three times above the surface, Audrey disappeared forever.

    Liked by 3 people

    by Kathleen Vasek Trocmet

    We were watching a football game when there was an emergency announcement…a UFO had landed in central Kansas and its occupants were standing outside of their craft. Wayne and I laughed and hugged. It was the most fantastic thing to happen in human history. We all knew a day would come when extraterrestrials would land on earth and make contact. For over two hours, the President and officials informed us of additional ships landing all over the world, and for us to stay in our homes.

    I slowly became aware of mom and granny’s choking cries and prayers to protect us against the devil and the antichrist. They began wailing that it was the end of the world. Dad suddenly stood in front of the TV with a gun in his hand. He shot mom, then granny, and aimed at Wayne. I threw my soda can. It hit his shoulder; the bullet hit the lamp next to Wayne. Wayne threw whatever he could grab. Dad missed another shot. I screamed to Wayne to run. We ran through the kitchen and out the back door. As dad came out the door Wayne threw a flowerpot at him, it grazed his head, he staggered, and the gun fell from his hand. As we ran around the house toward the street, the pop of a gunshot sounded from our backyard.

    There were so many people milling about in the street. Wayne had a death grip on my jacket sleeve, pulling me along toward Mill Street. I was crying so hard I could barely see. Automatic gunshots cracked a few houses away near the corner. Wayne and I were already running back towards our house when another round rang out at the front of the crowd, and everyone started screaming and scattering.

    299 words

    Liked by 2 people

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