What Happened Here?
A flash fiction story about a break-in.
Posts from the ‘Flash Fiction’ Category
May 11
Growing Older – Flash Fiction
Joan was the lively one with the most energy in her group of friends but lately it seemed she was starting to slow down.
Partying was no longer her choice for a fun evening. Now content to stay home and watch TV. She never dreamt she’d see this day come when she was younger.
Getting up in the morning some days were painful on her joints. She could no longer kneel on the floor let alone sit on the floor like she always did before. Afraid that if she got down, she’d never get back up.
Growing older sucks.
©Susan Zutautas 2019
This was written for a flash fiction challenge over at Carrot Ranch.
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May 11
A Dogs Perspective Of Growing Old
Couleur from Pixabay
When I was a puppy, we’d play every day
Now that I’ve grown older, lie down is what you say
I’d still love to fetch a ball even though I’m ten
A few years ago, I was your best friend
I hope I’m not too old for you, and you get a younger pup
Get rid of me because I’m old and you think I’m fed-up
Dogs do grow older every day
Please oh please don’t send me away
I have arthritis in my hips, but I still want to play
Let’s go outside and have some fun today
©Susan Zutautas 2019
This was written for a flash fiction challenge over at Carrot Ranch.
May 11
How Did I Get This Old – Flash Fiction
Growing older
Growing wiser
Kids are grown and gone
Bones are aching
Back is breaking
Arthritis settling in
Many memories to enjoy
When I can remember them
Retired early
Now I’m squirrely
But writing is my thing
Gray hairs are abundant
Get new ones every day
Always looking forward
To the month of May
Cataracts developing
Sight is getting worse
I really think the eye doctor
Put on me, a curse
Look forward to my naps
Each day at three
If I didn’t have them
I’d be cranky as can be
So, let it be told
I am old
©Susan Zutautas 2019
This was written for a flash fiction challenge over at Carrot Ranch.
May 7
The Nagging Mother
Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay
The lights dimmed slowly as the caretaker of the museum was locking everything up for the night. Everyone had gone home except for him. Mr. Whipple loved this alone time. The room that he believed was his was at the back of the building. It was actually a room that was used for storage of miscellaneous things. No one knew but he secretly slept here quite often.
On this particular night he stood at the Dutch door gazing in. He was thinking that it might be a good time to give his room a once over as the cobwebs were abundant.
Startled by an image of a woman standing off to the side of him he gasped. Was he really seeing a ghost?
“Mother is that you?”
“Yes my son, I’ve been hanging around here waiting for you to stop by. You should be ashamed of yourself for the state of this room. I suggest you get busy tonight and get it spic and span clean as it’s not fit for anyone to live in.”
“Yes mother,” he sighed.
Even after death she was still henpecking him.
©Susan Zutautas 2019
This short story was written for a challenge over at The Haunted Wordsmith
May 4
No Lions Sleep Tonight – Flash Fiction
One scorching sunny morning everyone gathered together by the Quiver tree, deep in the forest to discuss the shortage of food.
Leo starts the meeting with, “Good morning” to the pride.
“Tonight, we will go and hunt a zebra. I spotted a dazzle last night and if we’re quick and stealth there won’t be a problem.”
“Papa, papa, can I come too for the hunt?”, said Leo’s cub.
“Yes, I think it is a fine time for you to join us, time to develop your sisu.”
“Okay all, we’ll meet back here at dusk, don’t be late,” said Leo.
©Susan Zutautas 2019
This short story was written for a flash fiction challenge over at Carrot Ranch. In 99 words no more, no less, write a story or poem using the word sisu.
Sisu is a Finnish concept of enduring strength, the ability to consistently overcome.
Apr 27
Catching a Nap – Flash Fiction
Flopping down on the couch with pillow in tow, I knew I’d be asleep in no time at all. Hopefully Sandy would let me get an hour’s sleep or so before calling me. Exhaustion had kicked in and out I went.
I woke with a startle, looked up and saw Ian standing there.
“Oh no, I hope I didn’t wake you, Meg.”
“No, that’s okay I was just sneaking in a few zzz’s while your mom was resting. I should get up and check on her.”
“No, no, you stay put, I’ll tend to her for a few hours.”
© Susan Zutautas 2019
This is part 2 of my submission for this week’s flash fiction challenge over at Carrot Ranch. In 99 words, no more, no less, write a short story using the prompt word Exhaustion.
To read the first part of this flash: The Longest Days.
Apr 27
The Longest Days – Flash Fiction
This week’s flash fiction challenge over at Carrot Ranch is to write a short story or poem (in 99 words, no more, no less) using exhaustion as your prompt.
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Meg never realized how fatiguing it would be being the main caregiver for Ian’s mother who’d fallen and broken her hip.
It had only been four days since she’d been released from hospital and Meg still had six to ten weeks of this to look forward to.
If there weren’t so many stairs in Sandy’s house it would be so much easier but at the same time, Meg knew she was helping someone and getting exercise.
On one trip Sandy said to Meg, “I’m so lucky to have you and so is Ian.”
That made all the exhaustion worthwhile.
© Susan Zutautas 2019
I wrote a second flash fiction this week that follows this one.
Catching a Nap.
Apr 11
That’s the Way It Is
It’s flash fiction time again over at Carrot Ranch. In 99 words (no more, no less) write a short story using the phrase “Beggars Can’t Be Choosers” To see more about this challenge head on over to the ranch. Hope to see you there.
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What’s for dinner Mom?
You won’t like my answer, but we are having roasted chicken, broccoli, rice, and a Caesar salad.
Oh great, chicken again. I hate chicken and you know that.
Chicken is what’s on sale this week, and you know that we don’t have a lot of money right now. It’s funny how you will eat Popeye’s chicken and Wild Wing but you give me a hard time every time I make it.
I don’t know why; I just don’t like homemade chicken. Never have.
You know what I always tell you, dear, beggars can’t be choosers.
