“Flash Fiction 99 word Challenge for the Carrot Ranch Literary Community”

This weeks prompt is Buttons…




When I was five years old, I loved my rag doll with her blue pearly buttons for her eyes.  I took her everywhere with me.

One day the eyes went missing.  My brother Tommy had taken them for his shirt and I went mad trying to get them back.

Mum said she would buy new buttons for Tommy’s shirt and sew my ragdolls eyes back on again, but somehow she never got around to it.

On my 90th birthday, my granddaughter put two blue pearl buttons inside my card and had written.  “Now your ragdoll can see you again…”


#Writephoto Thursday Photo Prompt: Crossing


Thank you to Sue Vincent for another lovely #writephoto prompt…






When I used to drive across the Tamar Bridge, my heart would jump around like a caged bird, knowing I had just entered Cornwall, the one place that always felt like home.

Tintagel pulled me back year after year. I believed I was born there in a former life. I loved to pretend that I owned the whole stretch from the parking lot to the beach and Merlin’s cave. Including Camelot Castle on top of the hill, that was mine too.

On the last one of our trips to Cornwall, the way back to London was both amusing and sad. A large falcon flew low in front of our car for some distance, escorting us away from Cornwall, and in my heart, I knew a door had been closed behind me.

#Flash Fiction ‘Footsteps’ #romance


image by Pixabay.com



My grandmother’s diary took Frank and me to Paris for the first time.

I wanted to walk on the West Bank where she had fallen in love and had that wonderful sketch done of her and my grandfather.

Hoping to get Frank to sit still long enough, I approached one of the artists, a young woman and asked if she was working today.

Surprised, she pulled a sheet of paper from her folder, handed it to me, and said, ‘I knew you would be back for this.’

The half-finished sketch showed Frank on his knees, holding an engagement ring towards me. Confused, I said this was our first time in Paris.

‘In this lifetime, maybe…’ she said, looking past me to Frank.

He had dropped to one knee and was holding out a small red box, the same box as the one in the sketch.

‘I wanted to ask you to marry me…’

I swear I heard my grandmother laugh…


Flash Fiction 99 word challenge for the Carrot Ranch Literary Community

This weeks prompt is Sketch…




Looking for something to inspire me, I took a walk through our local flea market and fell in love with a half-finished sketch of a young woman lying on a grave.

I was about to ask how much, when a man standing beside me, said ‘It’s sad but lovely, isn’t it?’

My heart jumped so hard I thought I would join the woman at the graveside.

I turned to see who had spoken, but there was no one standing beside me.

The price was just £40 because it was unfinished work.

Holding it, I could see my grandmother’s signature…

We love doing these, even though keeping to the 99 word rule is a bit of a challenge!

#Writephoto – Waves

Many thanks to Sue Vincent for yet another image for the #writephoto prompt…





There are many tall tales told in Rosemead Village.

My grandfather lived there all his life and after he died, I read in his journals about the mystery of Tommy Flynn and his surfboard.

I remember seeing the surfboard above the bar in the village pub, but few villagers would speak to me about Tommy or the return. The twelve-year-old boy who made his own surfboard, promising to ride the high wave one day. Spending all day at the beach, watching the older boys, learning whatever he could.

After falling off his board more times than he could count, he finally managed to ride the 30-foot wall of water. When the wave collapsed, it took Tommy’s body. They searched for hours but he was never found, but his board made it back to shore. Every year since, the board vanishes, only to turn up on the beach and be put back above the bar.

On the anniversary of his death, the villagers gathered at the beach to wait for his return. They say you can see Tommy riding the wave when the light is just right, but no one has ever taken a photograph of this. People say it couldn’t be done, that Tommy wouldn’t want it.

I intended to try. I followed the villagers to the beach, no camera, just my phone, as I didn’t want to upset anyone. Come midday when the high wave arrived, I could almost make out the shape of a young boy riding the wave. I kept taking pictures, hoping I would get something.

The wave died, but the people stood still as if waiting for something.

Then I saw it, Tommy’s board, slowly making its way back to shore.

Checking my phone, I found one shot where I could almost see the figure of Tommy Flynn, hands in the air as he rode the wave…


#Write Photo: Wings

Our contribution to Sue Vincent’s #Write Photo Prompt…

#writephoto: Wings






Mother told me I would never earn my wings in heaven.

“Pull your bootstraps up, son.”

I could not tell her I had wings…

She could not see them, one white, and one black.

They would stay this way until my time on earth is done.

Then my wings will be black or white, depending on whether I go up or down…

#Flash Fiction 99 word Challenge for the Carrot Ranch Literary Community





“Not All is Lost    99 words”


A burning rose lay on the hot desert sand, if not found, I would be next.

I lay there beneath the hot sun, waiting to burst into flame, the voices of the Bedouin tribe close by.

Hope still beat in my chest that someone would come looking for their daily water. Would they walk this way?

Buzzards circle overhead, waiting for a feast.

As I reach for the rose, my eyes beheld a child’s feet. All was not yet lost, she would go back to her people for help.

Much later, I would discover the child’s name was Rose…

Beginnings: #writephoto




In the beginning was the word

Now we have paper we can bring new worlds into being

New characters no one has ever heard of.

We can give them life, take them on great journeys

You can read about them, take a journey with them

Feel their pain and joy.

Like or not the people you find there, they are there to stay.

Each day brings a new chance that someone

Will love the story you have written.

Good luck with that name, that thought,

That might, when written become a bestseller…


Thank you to Sue Vincent for the lovely #writephoto prompt!