Flash Fiction Friday: Ghosts

Prompt: Ghosts

Word Count: 286

Kara wasn’t sure she believed in ghosts, until her favorite uncle, Robert, died.  He had been the person in her life to encourage her love of reading and the first person to tell her she should try to be a writer.  He gave her a copy of Frank Herbert’s Dune, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, and Octavia Butler’s Kindred.  Books are precious gifts, because it is not only words and paper that are given, but entire worlds.  And Kara dove into those worlds, head first, traveling and teleporting between them.  Returning to the books she loved now and then, to visit the old friends and old enemies she had made in their pages.

Though Uncle Robert had never written a book, Kara still felt his spirit in her library or at the bookstore.  A book would fall from the shelf, or remind her of something she had read before, given to her by Uncle Robert. After awhile it became so commonplace, that Kara was certain it was still him, giving her books from the great beyond.

It was not quite the same, she still longed to call him up and tell him how much she had enjoyed his selections.  Sure, she could say the words aloud, but it was not the same without his own opinions and thoughts being said back to her.

Eventually, Kara decided she would make Uncle Robert immortal.  As she crafted her first novel she wrote a familiar character into the pages.  Now, Uncle Robert could share his wisdom and heart with anyone who flipped through the pages of her book.  He could be the friend of many other budding writers and novelists, a kind ghost of the written word.

Flash fiction is short fiction, often under 500 words and often written in a short space of time.  If you would like to do your own piece of flash fiction, feel free to put it in the comments or link me to the place you post it.  I would love to see what you come up with for the prompt.

 

Advertisements

Flash Fiction Friday: War & Peace

Prompt: War and Peace

Word Count: 201

This year, she tried to put her weapons down.  She was not fighting against some sovereign entity, but rather against the voices that had started the war within her own head.  Her swords were sharp, terrible thoughts.  I am not attractive anymore, what use do I have if I’m not pretty?  My creative endeavors are foolish, I should give them up.  I am not worthy of love, I do not deserve it.

Her daggers were her eyes, but only when they looked at her own reflection, in mirrors and pictures. I am not attractive anymore, what use do I have if I’m not pretty? Look at all the places where I wrinkle and sag.

There were other weapons she used, some she had forged over the years and some that were given to her by careless and cruel individuals. This year, she put them all in a sturdy, wooden box, locked tightly closed with a shiny, metal lock. There were times the box still rattled and shook, and the echo of how the weapons had been used filled her mind, but she pushed their influence out of her mind and reminded herself that love was stronger than hate.

Wars were not won in a single battle and peace could only be achieved through constant vigilance.

 

Flash fiction is short fiction, often under 500 words and often written in a short space of time.  If you would like to do your own piece of flash fiction, feel free to put it in the comments or link me to the place you post it.  I would love to see what you come up with for the prompt.