‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #43. By Mark Bierman @mbiermanauthor #IARTG #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction

Happy Friday! The long weekend is here, yay! Here is my take on talented Author Suzanne Burkes’ weekly Fiction In a Flash Challenge.  Authors are invited to write a short story about the photo shown. Please click on the above link to go to her blog site. Thank you so much, Suzanne for hosting this regular challenge!

Photo prompt:

“Captain BriIlaagisetogainalihandet! They’re closing in on us!”

“Argh! Landlubber knave! How many times do I hafta’ tell ye, not to call me by that name! It’s hyphnatted now!”

“What?”

“Shortened! Like yer life, if ya’ call me that agin! It’s Bilgerat that I goes by, on these seas.”

“Um, right, of course. Meant no offense, sir . . .  ah, Captain Bilge rat . . . er, I mean Bilgerat. It’s just that, well, do you think it was wise to steal the light house keeper’s secret recipe, for peanut butter brittle? He’s set the Royal Navy on us, and—”

 “Ye be a quakin’ in yer booties, I see. Got nary a stomak fer the high stakes game of the buccaneer!”

“Ah, sorry, I’m a bit new at this. Oh hi, by the way, my name’s Rick. My first time working on a pirate ship, and all. We haven’t met, but I know—”

“Pirate! Ne’er use that word on this ship agin, or you’ll be shark chum! Got it! It’s not jus’ fer my sake, but yur’s too. Ya’ know, a man can’t do this fer’ever and some day ye’ll be walkin’ off into the reel world. Git yerself a wench an’ settle down, have a coupl’a kids an’ then you’ll be needin’ a job. ‘Magine puttin’ pirate on the resume! Argh! Best to put buccaneer, sounds best.”

“Um, Okay. Actually, speaking of shark chum, are you quite finished with dragging Bertrand behind the ship. I mean, it’s been a day since he broke into your stash of chocolate coins. You know, the ones you thought were real, until they melted in the sun.”

“Bah! I knew they’re choc’late, scallywag! I did! Don’t ye be eyeballin’ me that way. Who told ya’ that lie? Argh! Ne’er mind! Firs’ n’ fourmos’, do not be questionin’ my discipline means. Secondly, he’s floatin’ on a piece of crate from the croissants we stole from the French bakr’y. But yer right ‘bout that. He’s slowin’ us down, so best to cut ‘im loose. Take your sword, lad.”

“Wait! Bertrand makes delicious waffles, and he knows where to get the best cream and strawberries.”

“I know’ ya’ picaroon! It’s jus’ an espression! The blade is fer the ‘gulls. Keeps ‘em from getting too close an’ usin’ yer ‘noggin’ fer an outhouse!”

“Oh, yes, Master, Bilgerat. Nasty things, those birds. But before I go, I want to—”

“What? Know ‘bout if it was worth the recipe? Yay, I say! My Nanna used to make it best, and this here keeper says his is better, it’s all o’er the seven seas! See my tooth? The last one, and I’ll not be wastin’ it on brittle with the taste of sea glass. I swore an oath to dear Nanna, that I’d steal the recipe and find the truth. If it’s better, I’ll burn the recipe. No one bests Nanna!”

“Oh, you’re doing this all for your Grandmother, how swee— I mean swashbuckling, of you. But there’s one more thing.”

“Speak of it, then shutpan your mouth, an’ do as your told!”

“Well, um, how do I put this, you seem to be moderately good, sort of, at your job. You turn that large wheel thing, like a pro, but perhaps you need some brushing up on your navigational skills.”

“Ye be talkin’ yerself to the plank. Can ya’ swim?”

“Um, I don’t think that’ll be necessary, either the plank or the swim.”

“Nec’ary! I’ll tell ye’ what is that! As long as yer under these sail’s, I be tellin’ ye what’s that!”

“Okay. Fair enough, but I think someone might have a slightly different opinion.”

“An’ who might that scallywag be? I’ll send him to the Locker!”

“Oh, that would be the lighthouse keeper. You see, we did a full circle and—”

“My ship! Weigh anchors! Argh! It be too laaaatttteee!!!”  

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #37. Entry Part 8) by Mark Bierman @mbiermanauthor #IARTG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction

HELLO EVERYONE AND WELCOME TO AUTHOR SUZANNE BURKE’S “FICTION IN A FLASH CHALLENGE!” EACH WEEK SHE FEATURES AN IMAGE AND INVITES EVERYONE TO WRITE A FLASH FICTION, OR NON-FICTION, PIECE INSPIRED BY THAT IMAGE IN ANY FORMAT AND GENRE OF THEIR CHOOSING.  MAXIMUM WORD COUNT: 750 WORDS. IN ADDITION TO RUNNING A WONDERFUL BLOG, SUZANNE HAS WRITTEN MANY EXCITING BOOKS. PLEASE A HAVE A LOOK AT HER SITE: WECOME TO THE WORLD OF SUZANNE BURKE

Here is my contribution to this week’s prompt. Enjoy!

“You hear that?” Mandy twisted her red locks into coils. Her wide-eyed expression moved her freckles, like dozens of islands shifted by an earthquake.

Dan put his ear against the door.

“Careful! What do you hear?”

“Chewing.” An icicle lodged in his spine.

“What? Dan Beamish! I can’t take it any longer! I’m calling Mom and Dad! I want to go home! George Binks was right, this place is haunted!”

“My gosh!” Dan jumped back. His jaw became a flag in the wind.

“Stop blubbering, out with it! You’re scaring me!”

“You should be.”

“Stop it!” Mandy’s eyes were red. It reminded Dan of the time he’d drew mustaches on her Barbies, with permanent marker. “Tell Uncle Bill! He’ll know what to do. He’ll call Mom and Dad to pick us up!”

“Don’t be such a wimp. Don’t you want to see what it is? Maybe it’s a Snog, just like in one of your silly books. Besides, Uncle Bill is away this afternoon. Mom and Dad are in the Bahamas.”

“I’m NOT a wimp, you’re just stupid! My books are NOT silly. Snogs are NOT real. Whatever’s in there, is! We should wait until Uncle Bill returns.”

“Get me something to defend myself.”

Mandy crossed her arms and scowled at her older brother. He was stubborn, just like his father, that’s what Mom said. Mom’s always right about Dan. She sighed. “Fine, there’s a croquette mallet in the hall closest.” She stomped down the ancient steps. Stupid, old, haunted house. Why couldn’t they’ve gone to Aunt Rita’s cottage on the beach? Oh, because Danny the Pansy was allergic to the sand. Whoever heard of such a thing?

She returned with the mallet to find Dan testing the doorknob.

Mandy performed a fake curtsy and handed the mallet over. “You’re lance, noble knight.”

Dan rolled his eyes. He counted to three, via the scenic route. “Two and a quarter, two and a half, two and three quarters, three!” He charged in screaming, mallet raised overhead, Brave Heart style.

Something large ran through what could only be described as a trash bin. Dan looked around, shocked by the mess. Uncle was a neat freak, but this was an episode of Hoarders.

Wind gusted through an open window. Papers blew across a desk and onto a floor that could have been hardwood. A huge lump moved underneath the pile, heading straight for him! A terrible hissing and growling came from the thing.

Dan’s arms lost feeling and the mallet struck his knee as it dropped. He was nailed to the floor.

“Dan! Get out!”

He tried to back away, but tripped on a power cord, that brought him and a desk computer, crashing to the floor.  

A yellowed New York Times paper, a foot from his face, burst off the floor, to reveal a hideous nightmare of bloody teeth and fur.

The eyes were blacker than the pavement, velociraptor sharp claws, and a hiss like a thousand water snakes. It stood on it’s hind legs, belly fur covered in blood. The thing was about to rip him apart! His mind flashed back to all those nature shows he’d watched. What to do? Run . . . seriously? Play dead? No, he’d be dead. Act submissive, lower your eyes and bow your head . . . quick! He raised himself to a kneel and bowed, face to the floor. It was terrifying, exposing the back of his neck.

“Dan! What are you doing! Have you lost your mind?”

“Showing respect. Being submissive.”

It didn’t work. The thing hissed and moved towards him. Dan could feel and smell its hot and stinky breath . This was it, his life for hers. “Go, Mandy! Run! It wants me and you can still get away!”

The beast moved closer, coming in for the kill bite, just like a lion. It would be a less painful way to die.

Dan was ready too.

Something swept past his head. The creature let out a squeal and then began to whimper, as it fled.

“You rascal!” Uncle Bill yelled.

His new favorite uncle held a broom, as he chased the thing out the window. He shut the window, turned towards them and said, “Blasted racoon. Should have closed the window. Got into my bowl of ravioli again!” He held up an empty can of Chef Boyardee’s “finest” pasta. He looked embarrassed.

Dan smacked his head when he noticed the “blood”’ matched the color of the pasta sauce.  

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #35 Entry Part 6) by MarkBierman@mbiermanauthor#IARTG #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction #WritingCommunity

HELLO EVERYONE AND WELCOME TO AUTHOR SUZANNE BURKE’S “FICTION IN A FLASH CHALLENGE!” EACH WEEK SHE FEATURES AN IMAGE AND INVITES EVERYONE TO WRITE A FLASH FICTION, OR NON-FICTION, PIECE INSPIRED BY THAT IMAGE IN ANY FORMAT AND GENRE OF THEIR CHOOSING.  MAXIMUM WORD COUNT: 750 WORDS. IN ADDITION TO RUNNING A WONDERFUL BLOG, SUZANNE HAS WRITTEN MANY EXCITING BOOKS. PLEASE A HAVE A LOOK AT HER SITE: WECOME TO THE WORLD OF SUZANNE BURKE

Here is my contribution to this week’s prompt. Enjoy!

“Oh Sheila, could this night get any better? I mean, you, me, just the crickets.”

“Oh, yes, Paul . . . it’s wonderful. There’s really no where else I’d rather be.”

“There’s something intoxicating about spending a night under the stars with a beautiful woman. Do you know that the constellation, Cygnus the Swan, is above our heads right now? Go ahead, look! No not at me. Look up, my dear. Do you see it? Yes, that’s it. See the splendor of it all? You want to know something, and it’s the truth.”

“What? What is it?”

“Keep looking up. I mean really take it all in.”

“I’m looking, and yes, it’s heavenly—”

“Just like you, my Sweet. Now I have something for you.”

“Really! What is it! Shall I close my eyes?”

“If you’d like. Yes, and hold out your hands, too. I love your radiant smile, by the way. Here it is. Okay, now open them.”

 “A mirror?”

“Yes, I want you to look at it, and then up again at the Swan. No, not at me, the Swan. Not that I mind the love in your eyes. No, Sheila, look up and compare. Why do you look so disappointed?”

“I don’t understand, that’s all.”

“Stop looking at me that way. No, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just wanted you to see that this constellation is just an ugly duckling, compared to you.”

“Oh, I see . . . of course, thank you, Paul.”

“I have a poem that I wrote for you. It’s about our love and this is the perfect night to read it. Here it goes. She is the light of my—”

“Stop!”

“What?”

“Please, Paul . . . I-I can’t do this anymore!”

“What do you mean? I planned this whole evening! Even made your favorite, Caprese salad, which is disgusting, by the way. Are you saying we’re through?”

“Just, turn away for a moment. Would you please, I cannot look at you, any longer. I’m so sorry, but you need to fix it.”

“Fix what?! I thought you said I was perfect!”

“No fix it! Pull it out!”

“Sheila! You are so devilish! But I cannot do that, this is a public park. There are still families about.”

“No! Not that! Pull out that ghastly nose hair that’s been waving at me all night.”

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ #30 Entry Part 2) by Mark Bierman @mark_bierman1 #IARTG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction

Hello, welcome to my take on Author Suzanne Burke’s weekly ‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge.’

Writer’s are challenged to come up with a short story based on a photo provided. The maximum word count is 750.

I am grateful to Suzanne for provoding this challenge and allowing us to use her blog to showcase our writing. Please click on this link to view Suzanne’s wonderful blog and see the works of other authors. Welcome to the World of Suzanne Burke.

Here is this week’s photo prompt:

“Dad! Did you see that? Daaad!”

“Ouch! Why’d you rip my headphones out for? I was just getting into a marketing podcast about nose hair trimmers.”

“Huh? Wha-? Look out the window! Doesn’t it look like some place we watched on that Area 51 documentary last week? Don’t make that face, either.”

“What face ? Oh Chad, you have a wonderful imagination but I’m afraid it gets the best of you at times. Here, let me see . . . oh, that is interesting.”

“What? You see them too, don’t you? You see them! Runways and small, too small, buildings that must go underground! I mean, one of them looks like the size of a porta potty. What would you do with that?”

“Ummm . . . Chad. Firstly, need I remind you that even though we are flying low because of the heavy clouds, we are still thousands of feet up. Secondly, you’ve spent enough time at summer camp to know what porta potties are for.”

“Look! They’re loading something from the back of a truck! It’s an ali—”

“Side of beef. Chad, that’s an abattoir, where they, uh, you, know. You like hamburgers, don’t you?”

“Eeewwww. . . I used to. Please stop slicing your finger across your throat. It’s not that, Dad. Cows don’t have arms . . . biology 101. Geez, how do you ‘adult’.”

“Nope, those are freezer trucks, and they are taking the beef to market. You see those smaller packages coming out of that other building? Those are probably steaks, hamburger, and some other yummy things.”

“Uh, Chad, you don’t look so well. What’s wrong?”

“You mean, that they sell alien meat in the stores pretending that it’s beef? I need to use the restroom.”

“Uh, that’s not what I meant. Okay, hold on, I’m moving my legs so you can get out.”

Chad’s father watched his son race to the restroom. He shook his head and imagined his brand-new Napoleon Rogue BBQ being relegated to grilling vegetables only . . . 70500 BTU’s wasted on asparagus and mushrooms. He slid over to the window for a final peak and rubbed his eyes. Had that ‘side of beef’ just waved up at him?