Perfectly Imperfect – Room 101

Trash cans spilled over, their contents whipped into the sky as the air fizzed and crackled. 

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Let’s do another month of M’s prompts shall we.  101 words allowed only.  I know I said I was done with them.  I lie.  Probably should have wrote this in October but hey ho, better late than never.  Think it works rather well as an idea given the prompt.


Joseph stood before the mirror, the face staring back a contorted mockery of his former self.  He tried to smile and he raised a trembling hand to his face, slowly running his fingers along the scars.

He still remembered the pain as the fire tore through his flesh, the smell as it cooked and melted his face filling his nostrils until they too succumbed to the heat.

He turned away unable to look any more, he was too grotesque and the memories too painful.

Grabbing his coat he headed outside, at least it was Halloween and he didn’t need a mask.

 


 

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Beads of Sweat – Room 101

 He ran his tongue slowly across her stomach, bead of sweat pooling on her soft pale skin. 

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt


He ran his tongue slowly across her stomach, caressing her as beads of sweat pooled on her soft pale skin.  He breathed deep, her perfume filling his senses and his heart racing.

“I’ve wanted this for so long” he said tasting her on his lips, “I knew we were meant to be.”

Running his coarse hands the length of her outstretched body he pulled himself on top of her.

“I love the taste of your sweat” he whispered in her ear.

He paused.

“God, what was I thinking” he said licking his lips and laughing “let’s start again.  Dead flesh can’t sweat”


Photo courtesy of pixabay

Incessant Dreaming – Room 101

Each night since he moved in the woman from the picture filled his dreams.  Her red hair, cherry lips and alabaster skin consuming him.  

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt


 

 

Each night since he moved in the woman from the picture filled his dreams.  Her red hair, cherry lips and alabaster skin consuming him.

“Stay with me” she would ask, and he would swear he would remain but with mornings advent they were parted.

“Why do you forsake me” she asked,  “don’t you love me?”

“I do” he insisted, “with everything”.

“Then you know what to do.”

As his limp hand dropped the bottle of sleeping tablets, his life ebbing away, she appeared one final time – her face now a mask of death.

“Sleep” she said smiling, “welcome to my home.”

 


Photo courtesy of pixabay

Deepest Desires – Room 101

With the sound of the pub fading into the night she pinned him to the wall biting his lip.  She tasted of whisky and cigarettes,.

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt!


With the sounds of the pub fading into the night she pinned him to the wall biting his lip. She tasted of whisky and cigarettes,

“Is your mind mine?” she asked.

“God yes” he stammered, her hands under his shirt, nails digging into him.

“Your soul?”

“Yes!” he answered, her hips writhing against him.

“And your heart?”

“Take it” he said breathless. His wife wouldn’t know. “Just suck m…”

Fingers suddenly transformed to talons she reached inside his chest and pulled out his still beating heart.

“Men” she hissed taking a bite as he slumped lifeless at her feet. “Quite deliciousssssss.”


Photo courtesy of lightstargod @ pixabay

Unassuming Diversions – Room 101

Just how much can you actually pack into 101 words? let’s see shall we.

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt!


 

“Sleep you two” Alan shouted smiling.

The twins giggled.  “Yes dad.”

He rolled the conker they’d given him between his fingers and placed it on the bedside table.  As he closed his eyes the dark shell cracked open and a silvery wisp spilled out, circled his head and darted inside his ear

He missed them more than he hated his ex-wife.  Just.  Monthly visits weren’t enough.

__________

As he sat in the back of the cruiser, pyjamas blood soaked he watched the silvery wisp crawl into the ear of the Deputy driving.

“They’re going to love you in county” he snarled.


 

photo courtesy of pixabay

The army of dead babies

Not really sure where this came from. Not sure if the idea is cute or just creepy as hell.

If you cant sleep at all tonight

And you sense that something’s wrong

And the wind that whispers through the trees

Seems to sing a mothers song

 

Then close your eyes ignore the sound

Of gurlgles, howls and cries

Upon the wind as it blows through

The late October skies

 

Stay ‘neath your blanket warm and snug

Don’t open windows wide

For the army of dead babies

Will be marching by outside

 

Reminders of the choices made

The lives we took for granted

They seek once more a mothers kiss

On this night that’s most enchanted

 

From those we lost in pointless wars

To others cruelly taken

Not loved, not wanted, never held

And many more forsaken

 

With Ghoulish faces sunken eyes

A mother’s heart they seek

To take her back to realms of dark

To care for souls most meek

 

Into your homes they crawl inside

Mouths gaping and dead eyes

Foot of your bed they sit and wait

Soft gurgles tender cries

 

And should you wake and heed their call

Heart tender, cries to stem

Your soul they take and leave you dead

And drag you back with them

 

And from that day ‘til ages pass

And they again return to light

You tend the dead lost babies souls

That wander through the night

 


picture courtesy of pixabay

My neighbour Ifraheem

Ifraheem was a quiet and unassuming man, very much like any of your neighbours I would imagine.

A flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers photo challenge.  Take the photo, write something in 100-150 words.  Simple apparently…


“Aah Mrs Fazal” said Ifraheem as the courtyard door swung open, “come in please, it’s so good to see you.”

” I just wanted to pay my respects” she said placing a hand on Ifraheem’s arm.

“Why thank you” Ifraheem replied, putting down the watering can, “It has indeed been too long, what a relief it was when the police eventually declared her deceased.”

“You have endured much” Mrs Fazal continued, “But I see you have taken good care of her flowers.  They’ve never looked so well.”

“She would often joke that she preferred her flowers to people” he said, his smile now a little less broad.

Mrs Fazal nodded in agreement as Ifraheem bent down and picked a few fallen leaves and debris from the one of the pots closest to him.

“Well I must be off” she said, “perhaps we could have tea sometime soon?”

Ifraheem felt in his pocket for the small finger bone he had plucked from the pot.  “I would like that very much” he said as she turned and left.

175 Words 

 


More?  Go on try something different…

99 Word Challenge – Sound

Badger and Fox

Farmer and Dog

 

http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=736996

 

 

An open letter from the killer clown community

In a world where diversity across society is ever increasingly celebrated there remain places where prejudice and hatred still run free.

This is a bit of a stream of conscious Saturday effort, which requires me to simply (with minimal editing) write.  This one went much better than last week and is pretty much unedited.  I would have liked to redo it as I like the idea but it is what it is.

Details can be found here if you fancy having a go:

https://lindaghill.com/2017/07/07/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-817/


Dear world

In a world where diversity across society is ever increasingly celebrated there remain places where prejudice and hatred still run free.  For every minority welcomed into inclusive arms there are those who day to day must face the very real darkness that lies in the hearts of men.  It is on behalf of one of those most marginalised segments of modern society that I write.

While the LGBTQ population blaze a glittering trail and celebrate their diversity and individuality we are forced to remain hidden under your beds, our history and heritage now long forgotten and all that remains of the joy we once brought is fear.

You have forgotten us, and more than that you have allowed our memory to be twisted until all that remains are your own inner fears and inhibitions which you project onto us.

In sports and entertainment those that are differently able are now held aloft as a symbol of our more progressive ways yet we must hide our difference and we are forced to lurk in the dark recesses of your closets for fear of discovery.

We deserve better for once we were the better part of you, we ewre your joy and your escape and your light in the darkness.  Now, I fear we have become your darkness and we must now arm ourselves to protect all that remains of our once proud people.

My heart’s desire is that once again you will embrace us and allow us to help you regain your innocence.  We are tired of living in the sewers and the garden sheds.  We wish to be released from the shackles of your childhood nightmares and to again bring joy to the faces of small children.

We ask of you to no longer exclude us but to open your arms and embrace our kind, free us from our solitary existence be ask for we are born of you and and deserve better.

Yours Sincerely

Killer Clowns


Fancy More?

Pesky butterflies – Weekly Weather Challenge: Hurricane

Badger and Fox

Ichabod the first

 

 

Https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/solitary/

 

 

Photo courtesy of RyanMcGuire @ pixabay

99 Word Challenge – Sound

From the forest into my room they creep…

Each night it starts with a scratch scratch scratch on my window.  I close my eyes and hope this it is just branches blowing against my window,  but it never is.

From the forest into my room they creep, scuttling across the ceiling, shrouded in darkness.  Skull less eyes glow red, foul hissing breath on my skin as they envelop me.  I lie frozen and unable to scream as their claws caress me, hungry tongues snaking out to feast on my fear.

With a full belly they return to the night and I am free to scream, too late.


 

Photo courtesy of RGerber @ pixabay

August 3: Flash Fiction Challenge