Flash Fiction Friday! April 6th.

It’s Friday morning, the sun is pouring through the windows into my little kitchen workspace, and it’s definitely time for another Flash Fiction Friday. Just a little bit of a photo prompt to get the brain working and the inspiration pumping to see what you might come up with. Or what I may come up with. Flash fiction is great because sometimes, you have the opportunity to create something really profound in the space of a few words. Or (as is more often the case with the novelist me) what might start out as a little blurb to meet the prompt ends up building into something else, bigger and better. I never have any lack of ideas for what to write about, but I definitely get a lot of new ideas from prompts and that’s what I love about them.

Sometimes, some prompts are harder than others, but that only makes it more interesting when you really have to challenge yourself to come up with something even though you’re not feeling entirely inspired. My brain’s not really in a flash fiction mindset, but that’s all the more reason to push through and see what comes out.

So, here was are, a picture from PhotoBotos to jog the inspiration! Go ahead and use the prompt for yourself if you’d like, share it here or on your own blog or however, and see what you can come up with! Below is my own contribution. Enjoy! And happy writing!


(“Rainbows and Dust” by Marc Hermann courtesy of PhotoBotos)

Kanoa let out a shrill shriek, a scream of surprise as her sister let up on the pedals and allowed the bicycle to coast down the slope of the path. The shout soon shifted into a giggle, bubbling out of her at the pure joy of the free-falling feeling, the wind in her hair, but the comforting strength of her sister behind her. She closed her eyes and held onto the moment. Before she knew it, it would be over, the world around her would resume, but in these fleeting seconds, it was just her, the wind, and her sister, wrapping around her like a protective blanket. They were flying, the sun dappled on their skin and the rustle of the trees above them, and they were free.

Eventually, though, the bike started to lose its momentum, and Manaka had to put her feet down again to start pedaling, the work and effort radiating off of her in her shifting body to jostle Kanoa, making her slightly uncomfortable where she sat. She sighed, opening her eyes and seeing the ramshackle buildings of the village waiting for them at the bottom of the gentle slope, heard the sounds of spitting automobiles and clanging tools, started to feel the sweat and the heat of so many bodies in so much sun. Manaka turned the corner sharply, calling out to people who shouted greetings at them, and Kanoa closed her eyes again. She wished she could keep them closed until tomorrow, when she and her sister would ride up the hill again to gather the herbs and the branches and, for a brief moment in time, they would ride back down the hill and she could fly again.


I had a feeling this might tie into a story I wrote for Morgan Dragonwillow’s contest a little while back! Kanoa and her sister Manaka showed up in a story that I felt would be surfacing a lot more; it’ll be interesting to see if these girls show up elsewhere and build themselves into something more!

So, what have you got for the prompt? Let’s see it!



  1. Nice story – great feeling that rush along with the little girl. Then back to reality – glad it didn’t end badly, just with some disappointment and anticipation.
    Is this a Flash Friday challenge from somewhere else or your own?
    I’ve been doing the one from TerribleMinds.com every week, looking to add another challenge.

  2. Reading other writers’ work always inspires me, and this was no exception. Excellent piece describing a simple, happy moment… of course, my own writing style is slightly more morbid. Please forgive the Star Wars reference. 😉
    Thinking back, I can’t believe how simple life had been. It seems like a dream now – a million colors and sensations, all of them happy, washed together in a kaleidoscopic haze. Hard to believe it was real, even harder to believe it could have gone on.

    The world was different before the Dark Days, before the Dominion. The sun had been bright and golden before the fog of war rolled in over the land. The palms had been bright and green, like shining, translucent green umbrellas protecting us from dripping heat. The earth had been dark and brown, not black like now. The countryside had been smooth before the artillery marred it with scars.

    Everything is gray. Even if we were to somehow drive back the Dominion, I will never live to see a return to the old world.

    But then, out of the haze, a single memory coalesces. I am sitting on Cara’s lap, my view over the handlebars of our bicycle jumping up and down as she peddles. The feeling should have been awkward. Somehow, though, under the partial shade of the palms, with brightly colored birds singing and flitting back and forth through the branches and Cara’s warm, reassuring presence behind me… everything seemed perfect. I was grinning. Cara was laughing. Life was good.

    I had forgotten this. I resolve to never do so again. This is why we struggle for life. This is why we fight. Even if I never experience heaven on earth again, I swear that my descendants will. Someday, the light will be golden again.

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