Category: to visual prompts

For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #122, where we write about this image from Nicolae_Balt at Pixabay:

John Hall was enjoying the morning, in a state somewhere between awake and risen. “Enjoying” is the wrong word, for John was nervous. Today would be big, he’d been told, decisive. Something had to be. Nothing yet had changed any of this madness. He gazed into the darkness of the early morning through the open tent flap. A stiff breeze blew in, and for a second, John hoped it might dampen Paul’s resolve.

Continue reading “Offensive”

For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #121, where we write about this image from Reddit:

A three-inch-thick piece of glass stood between them, easily sufficient to withstand the large pressure difference. On the one side, fifty humans, and on the other, a hundred varieties of fish. A truly educational experience, to see so many of them in such a confined space.

Continue reading “The Day Out”

For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #120, where we write about this image from Antenna at Unsplash. .

“He delivered us power. What more do we want? We probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.”

Continue reading “Voting for Christmas”

For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #119, where we write about this image of a David Hockney work. .

When they had first met, the earth had moved. Nobody could possibly know a love like this, surely? And until the children came along, they could not keep their hands off each other.

Continue reading “Strife”

For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #118, where we write about this photo from Dmitriy Ganin at Pexels. .

Peter was desperate. Why could he not find himself a girlfriend? Admittedly, he was excitable, but wasn’t that just his enthusiasm shining through? So, when his workmate, Paul, mentioned a friend, Peter jumped at the chance, and a blind date was arranged. Would this finally be the woman of his dreams?

Continue reading “Smell the Coffee”

I wrote the first part of this story yesterday, for Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #117, where we write about the photo below. So, here is my second half:

Part One

Part Two

By midday the next morning, the team were finally into the bank. More than 12 hours after the escapade had begun, they were now 8 hours behind schedule. But there was one more wall to go before they reached the vault and the riches that lay on the other side. Thank goodness they had that extra day, thought Del.

Setting up the drill once again, there was no option but to sit it out, and by midnight they were finally inside the vault. In the corner stood a large, modern safe.

“Crikey”, said Albert.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, jeez, I ain’t seen nuffin like this before, Del. What did it say on the plan? A 2400? Well, look, this is a SafeAsHouses 6000. Jesus, boy, where’d you get those plans? Off a fucking market stall?”

Continue reading “One Last Job (2)”

For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #117, where we write about this photo from MilosCreativeArt at DeviantArt.

Before I start, here’s the thing. I had an idea for this, started writing, and when I was done I was at about 1,100 words. Give or take, that’s an 11 minute post, and way, way longer than I am happy to publish. So my plan is to post the first chunk today, to tease you all, then to publish the rest tomorrow.

Officially, they were retired. Moved lock, stock and two smoking barrels out to the Costa del Crime, to enjoy their ill-gotten gains in sunny opulence.

But greed had tempted them back. Del and Rodney, those unlikeliest of brothers – Del, short stocky, five foot nothing, and Rodney, a 6’5” beanpole, had agreed on one last job. And who could resist? A bank, bloated from a weekend’s takings? And a holiday weekend to boot – an extra day before the cash was scurried away to head office?

Continue reading “One Last Job (1)”

For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #116, where we write about this photo from agevla77 at DeviantArt.

There had been teething problems, but Charlie was confident that they were now behind him. Sure, it had taken a while to get the business off the ground, but his late father had been right – “we come in wi’ nowt, we leave wi’ nowt, and all we’ve got is what’s in between”.

Continue reading “The Last Laugh”