“We Interrupt This Programme.”

Pearl Harbor, Ship, Warship, Destroyed
Pixabay

Six-year-old, Alice was dancing with her doll to the music on the radio.  Suddenly, the music stopped and a man’s voice said, “We interrupt this programme with an important bulletin.  The United States’ fleet in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii has been attacked by air and naval forces of the Empire of Japan.  I repeat, the American fleet has been attacked in Hawaii.”

Alice ran to tell her mother. 

“Mother, the Umpire of Japan attacked Hawee.”

Her mother instantly went pale, and stared out into their Nebraska pasture. 

“Mother, where is Hawee?” the little girl asked.

“Too close, Darling.  Too close.”

 

Padre

 

Flash Fiction Challenge: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes something heard on the radio. It can be from any station or era. What is heard? A song, announcement, ad? Think of how radio connects people and places. Go where the prompt leads!


Shepherd

hikers
MorgueFile April2020 8e2988a47483eb5557e86bec8d20f56c

There were guides, and then there was Angus MacDonald.  

In his twenty years as a guide into the New Territory he had never lost a charge.  A mountain man’s mountain man, he was a skilled tracker, scout, and a sure hand with medical attention as well.  He did not hurry stragglers beyond their abilities, nor did he abandon the weak.

For the past five years, his son, Rory had joined him in bringing migrants across the hill country.  This only added to his reputation, as he no longer halted full parties in order to wait for the dawdlers, but would send his son on with the main party while he awaited the slow movers.

Angus MacDonald began his adult life as a up-land shepherd, and while his flock might have changed, his stewardship never did.

 

Padre

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER: 2020: WEEK #36

First Flight

image: Padre’s Ramblings

______

He was nervous, but the amount he had been offered was more than a mere street urchin could hope to acquire in a month.  Now, standing on the rooftop, and the distance to the piazza seemed impossible. 

Angelo felt the harnesses being tightened around his emaciated frame, and the canvas and weight of the wooden frame made him wonder if the experiment could ever work. 

“Now,” Mr. Leonardo called from the ground, and Angelo felt a shove from behind.  He immediately crashed onto the cobbles.

“Not bad for a first flight,” Da Vinci said, looking down on the boy.

 

Padre

 

August 13: Flash Fiction Challenge

Play Date

MorgueFIle March2020  b8609bb286958f154ff5c03730f61fc4

MorgueFIle March2020 b8609bb286958f154ff5c03730f61fc4

“I really don’t believe this,” Barbara said in exasperation.

“Just keep looking,” her husband, Dan urged.

“I am,” she snapped, her irritation at the situation rising.

“Are you sure this is the right area?” Dan’s sister, Karen asked.

“Yes, Honey, it’s right where Jeff Junior said,” her partner assured her.

“Well we better hurry up,” Barbara huffed.  “The sun’s setting and the tide’s coming in.  I can’t believe Little Jeff would have buried his own cousin in the sand like this, and then leave her!”

 

(84 words)

 

Padre

 

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER

 

 

The Misanthrope

Villa, Chateau, Residence, Manor House, Country House

Pixabay

 

“You need to be gett’n off my property,” Roger Lowell shouted at the men on his porch.

“Mr. Lowell, we’re with the Police, and need a brief word with you.  May we come in?”

“Do it right there, or not at all,” Lowell replied.

“Yes Sir, we can do it that way,” Officer Brown assured him.

“What’s this ’bout?  I bet it’s that damn pith-helmeted scoundrel.  Coming up here pound’n on my door like a fury.”

“Yes, it’s about the postman.  He says you’re bit of a misanthrope.”

“I ain’t no misan-anything.  Don’t care for people much – is all.”

 

Padre

 

Weekend Writing Prompt #169 – Misanthrope in 99 words

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Esplanade Escapade

lighthouse

MorgueFIle March2020 5505949277945981e863844c582745fc

The Esplanade Gang met in front of the ice cream kiosk at the appointed hour.

“Okay, everyone seems to be here,” A, their leader said.

“Not yet,” C observed. “F is missing.”

“No, I have her on a job,” A responded.  “Okay, you lot know that things have been tight lately with the Lock-down and all.”

“Yeah, hardly even enough to eat,” chubby G piped in.

“Exactly, tourism is down, and so are our pickings,” A observed.  “Well all that is about to change.  We are going to expand our patch and muscle in on the Cliffies’ turf.”

“Is that smart, Boss?” C challenged.

“I thought about that, and as I see it, there is one area that we can move in on that they won’t raise a fuss over.”

“Were’s that?” C asked skeptically.

“The lighthouse,” A announced.

“That place is a fortress,” several objected.

“Yes, but workman have been seen with sandwiches and even chips,” A said with an enticing voice.

“Count me in,” G said immediately.

And so the Lighthouse Escapade was hatched by the gulls of the Esplanade Gang.

 

Padre

 

FOWC with Fandango — Escapade

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER

The Arrangement

Human, Trafficking, Jail, Imprisoned, Freedom, Captured

Pixabay

 

Monreal plopped down on the straw-filled mattress raising a cloud of dust that made his eyes water.  Fighting back a sneeze, he fished the stub of a pencil and some scraps of paper from inside an old boot which served as his pillow.  Monreal Dorb, one time lawyer and now convict, began to scribble blank verse onto a scrap.  The arrangement was simple, Monreal would write a poem and the guard would claim the verse as his own, and the accompanying profits.  In exchange Dorb received more paper.  Little did the guard know that these verses contained coded messages.

 

Padre

 

Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge: Monreal Dorb

 

 

The Recital

Person Playing Cello

Image: Pexels

It had been four years since Dave and Reena had visited Reena’s sister, Tracy.  With things being slow in the shop, they thought that the invitation to their niece Carrie’s recital would be the perfect opportunity to catch up.

They arranged to meet at the concert venue, and Carrie was already backstage when they arrived.

Carrie made a spectacular solo performance.

As she stepped from behind her cello to take a bow, Reena said, “She has really blossomed.”

Dave whose gaze was firmly locked on the sixteen year old said, “She certainly has,” gaining him a well deserved slap.

 

Padre

 

Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction: Blossom

 

Novice Sensations

Beads, Vera, Christianity, Catholicism, Orthodoxy

Pixabay

Patrick filed into the choir and waited for the signal to sit.  As the abbot made his way into the chapel, Brother Isaac played a low simple piece on the organ.  Vespers had begun.

Soon the gathered brothers were fully engaged in the chants, and Patrick, only in his first full day in the house, felt a deep vibration shivering, no shimmering through his entire being.

Was it the physical effect of Isaac’s base notes?  Was it the numinous of the collective praise? Or was it the true realisation that he was being touched by the finger of God?

 

Padre

 

Flash Fiction Challenge: Vibrations in 99 words

 

Based on actual event

Covid Romance

Student, Typing, Keyboard, Text, Woman

Pixabay

Forever seems a long time,” Hennie typed onto the messenger.

Lockdown, isn’t forever,” Kennan responded.  “All of this will end eventually.”

Sure seems like forever,” she replied.

He responded with a sad faced emoji.

Flirting online had become the extent of their fledgling relationship.

I can’t wait till school starts again, and I can see you,” she mused in print.

Calculus was the high point of my day too,” he responded.

Thank you,” she wrote and added a bashful face.

I signed up for Art and Debate, like you suggested,”

Oh, that’s so sweet.”

Now we will have three classes together,” he typed, adding a kiss face.

 

Padre

 

The Write-In Celebrate National Flash Fiction Day with us! On 6 June 2020