Photo Credit: Graham Lawrence

Distant onlookers might imagine her canvas to be awash in strokes of subtle greens and vibrant reds. Bouquets of lush roses captured in still life. It makes perfect sense to assume such a thing. 

But a closer inspection reveals the stunning portrait of a fragile doe-eyed child. 

I have heard she comes here regularly to paint her face again and again, here in her favorite place. 

How she loved this garden. How she adored the sweet fragrance of roses! 

She likes to remember her here, each brush stroke of oil recalling the beautiful moments of a life too soon stilled.

kat ~ 27 September 2015
(100 Words)

100 Word Story in response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (FFfAW) weekly challenge. To see more stories click HERE.

A 100 Word Story in response to Friday Fictioneers Photo Prompt. You can see the details and other stories by going HERE.

PHOTO PROMPT © The Reclining Gentleman

Of all the ideas she’d ever idealized, this was the worst. There would be no impressive swan dive into the deep under pale moonlight, to the tune of The Band Perry’s dirge, “If I Die Young” piping through the earbuds of her iPod.  A detour had diverted traffic across the bridge.

“Give me a break!” she mumbled.  It was always something. In truth, it was drama, not death, she craved most.

Like the time she swallowed a bottle of pills that turned out to be laxatives. Her half-hearted attempts to end things were always sabotaged by her worst enemy. Herself.

kat ~ 25 September 2015

In response to Monday’s Finish the Story Weekly Prompt.  This story begins with the line, “She lived in a mango tree.”  Thanks to Barbara W. Beacham for the photo inspiration this week.

She lived in a mango tree. Some say she was as crazy as the cuckoo birds swirling around her long gray locks of hair. For forty years she had lived there. A tragedy of love, unrequited.

From the moment she saw him she knew he was her soul mate. But how would she capture his heart?

One day she followed him home…a simple house, set among a grove of mango trees. She conjured a brilliant plan. She would hide herself on the full moon and when he passed by she would sing sweetly from above (she was known for her beautiful voice). He would succumb instantly and they would be forever lovers.

As night fell, he arrived with maiden. She watched as they kissed, professing their love. She never sang that night or ever again, and vowed never to leave. She never did. He was her soul mate.

~kat / 21 September 2015

(149 words)

A new challenge from FFfAW… Thanks to William David Laughlin for the great painting! 
 
It was an early morning at the Double-D. Jesse lifted the towel to have a peek at the feast on the stove when the missus caught him out of the corner of her eye. 

“Not until you hitch the carriage Jesse Dean! You know I’ll get nothin’ but rags if I’m late!

A new shipment of fabric was due to arrive at the General Store today and she knew dawdling would mean slim pickings. 

The carriage was just outside the barn, but Beau was nowhere to be seen. Of all mornings! 

Jesse shook his head. Wasn’t the first time this silly old horse went missing. He knew where to find him. Just as he thought, there Beau was, hiding between the young horses. 

“You know you’re not meant for the saddle Beau. Come on now before you get us both in a heap of trouble and my breakfast gets cold.”

Kat ~ 15 September 2015 

(150 Words)