Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

FFfAW : A creature out of place and time

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Iain Kelly. Thank you Iain for our prompt photo!

 

‘See it?’ said Dad.

The surface was dimpled like sand but set hard as concrete. Ripples were caught in the rock, fingerprints left by long evaporated waves. But there were other marks too, deeper, with a formal pattern.

‘I think so.’ Claire sunk her fingers into one dip, then the next, touching soft moss at the bottom, the sides of each chasm lined with lichen.

Dad smiled. ‘Footprints,’ he said. ‘Well, hoofprints – left by Mesohippus –  late Eocene. Three toes on each foot – hoof.’ He pointed towards an imprint with the stem of his pipe. ‘Imagine a pony two feet tall. Unknown outside the Americas until this trace fossil.’ He smiled, eyes twinkling. ‘A creature out of place and time.’

Claire took in his sock suspenders, the green waxed jacket, the pheasant feather poking from the crown of his stained leather fedora. She squeezed his hand.

 Mesohippus wasn’t the only creature out of place and time.

 

Written for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. See the pic and write a tale to suit it. See here to join in and to read the other stories.

FFfAW: A ton of the special stuff

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Louise with the Story Teller’s Abode. Thank you Louise!

 

‘What do you reckon Norm’s secret is?’ Stan rested a foot on his shovel blade.

‘Double digging,’ said Colin, not looking up from the mud.

‘We double dig every two years.’

Colin stretched his back, nodding towards Norm’s lush allotment. ‘He’s a got a good manure man, he says. Won’t say where.’

‘We get manure. Doug who runs the stables out on the main road gives us tons of the stuff. Place stinks so bad when it rains you can’t hardly breathe.’

Taking off his flat cap, Colin smoothed down his sweat soaked hair. ‘This is special he says. Special kind of horse or feed or summat.’

‘What is it – unicorn poo?’

They stood side by side, watching the easy bend and stretch of Norm’s back as he picked glossy runner beans from the vines.

Stan eyed their own scarlet buds. ‘Something not right.’

Suddenly, Norm turned, waved, sending Stan and Colin back to their tools.

I really must be more careful, thought Norm.

By his boot, the earth glittered gold.

 

Written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Let the photo inspire your flashy creativity in 100 – 150 words. See here for full Ts and Cs.