Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Peddling Back to Life #amwriting #flashfiction 


Thanks to the lovely Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW August 8th, 2017 Edition. 

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Credit: Dorothy

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Mike peddled with little effort yet his face was dripping sweat as a hot candle dripping wax. Each peddling motion on the tandem bike was agony.

“We have to stop, Tommy.”

“Nope, I promised you we’d get you fit.”

“What if I don’t want that? And why hills?”

“Hills are the best for doing intervals which burn fat better.”

“Who cares?”

Tommy frowned. “I care because I’m your brother.  I realize you’ve been depressed, that finding the right medication has caused you significant weight gain.”

“I also know antidepressants make you extra hungry and that eating makes you feel better since Beth’s death.”

Mike halted the tandem bicycle. “Don’t ever talk about her.”

“I will, someone needs to tell you the facts. The Doctor phoned you and I answered your phone, thinking it was important.”

“I was right. The Doctor’s concerned your blood pressure has skyrocketed. He says you’re quite obese and that if you don’t eat well and exercise you’ll get diabetes.”

Mike growled, turning to glare at Tommy behind him. 

Tommy shoved him. “The Doctor told me so I could help you. Beth chose death so your healthy daughter could live. Tira is two and being raised by her grandparents. That isn’t right.”

“I’m in no shape to raise, Tira.”

“That’s sad. Remember your therapist said, in our family session, that most of your problems are set behaviors, that can be altered? Depression isn’t to blame for everything.”

Mike shook his head, disagreeing. 

“I’ll help you, Mike. We’ll take it one day at a time.”

“Todsy’s day one, right?”

Tommy grinned, “Yep, and stop whining. I’m doing most of the peddling, not you.”

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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First Line Friday: Fiction – Stenham House #amwriting #fiction #FLF


Thanks to Dylan of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s FLF.

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Credit: http://bigproof.ru

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“Stenham house was an ancient locked thing and nothing returned there except for crows.” 

Lost in the forest Marybeth was charmed by the crumbling facade of the ancient mansion. She wondered what the house looked like on the inside as she slipped through the rungs of a creaky black gate.

“What’r you doin’ here, Marybeth?” her older brother Winston cried, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

“Mom’s worried. Said you’d been out so long she was ‘fraid you were lost in the woods for good. You know you’re too young to be out here alone.”

“What’s in there?” Marybeth asked Winston pointing to Stenham house. 

” You don’t want ta go there, ” Winston said matter-of-factly. “Tommy Johnson went in there and never came out the same. He’s a touched now.”

“Well he still lives in the neighborhood,” Marybeth argued. “I see him at school. He doesn’t play with the other kids much but sits in a corner and reads. There’s nothing wrong with that. What happened in that house?”

Winston shook his head, “You’ll have nightmares Marybeth, I can’t tell you. Mom’ll kill me.”

“S’okay I’m a big girl now. I’m seven. I can handle it.”

Winston sighed,”They say a family was murdered there. An axe murder came in and hacked them all to pieces. Grandma, Grandpa, the parents, and worst of all the children. There were four of them and the oldest was eleven.”

Marybeth gasped, “That’s bad. I saw the curtains moving I think someone still lives there.”

“There was a fifth child, he was a tot. The nanny hid him but was butchered herself. Even though the little guy was adopted, he always woke up with nightmares about the murder, even as an adult,” Winston whispered. 

” He lives there now, I think.” 

“He decide to live there when he ‘came  an adult. It was the only way he could face his demons. That’s what Aunt Sally told me.”

“Does Aunt Sally know him?”

“Yeah, they were in the same grade.”

Suddenly the front door to the delapitated house flew upon. Winston and Marybeth saw a gaunt middle aged man standing at the entrance. He motioned them over but then the crows began to fly and circle around the children, diving at them and pecking them when they tried to reach out to the man. 

Marybeth screamed batting at crows as she ran all the way back home to the safety of her mother’s arms. Winston followed his sister, his screams even more terrified. 

He swore to his sister, later, he saw the man at the door to Stenham mansion disappear into thin air. Marybeth believed him and decided to stay away from Stenhem house until she was older and wiser. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.  

Moral Monday’s Flash Fiction: Free to Be Left-handed. #amwriting #fiction #freedom


Thank you to Nortina for hosting Moral Monday’s prompts. This week’s prompt is: “Freedom is a state of mind.” 

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http://www.newdealferi.org

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“Stop it Tommy, ” Miss Erma Webster chastised Tommy, slapping his left-hand with her ruler.

He’d been able to write left-handed well since he was five-years-old. He was sixteen now, one of the older students in the one-room school house. He gazed up front at Miss Webster and began writing again.

Miss Webster marched forward, grabbing Tommy’s ear. “Tommy, you maybe almost a man but I won’t let evil win, allowing you to write left-handed. After school, one-hundred lines on the black board with your right-hand. Write: I will never write with my evil left-hand again.

“No Ma’me,” said Tommy. “My writing is perfect. Keep your left-handed superstitions to yourself Erma, you’re only one-year older than me.” 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: One Thing at a Time


When you see a tire lying emeshed in ice and snow by a frothing icey river, you don’t think much about what you’re seeing. What would a random tire say if it could talk?  Would it tell you the story of the SVU it was apart of? There were two young children in the vehicle.

How fast was their mother driving on the slick roads? Sally wasn’t paying attention and was texting and talking on her phone while driving. She was too busy having a conversation with her friend about a playdate.  Sally was too busy texting her husband to pick-up milk on the way home. Tom and Isla were playing; they were giggling and laughing in the back seat and were hushed by Sally.

Then the SUV started to hydroplane and Sally tried to break, but the vehicle was spinning and slipping down the side of the road and she couldn’t hault the SUV against the slush and snow. She couldn’t stop it from driving into the river.

Sally remembers the screaming of her children. She doesn’t know how she got out of the SUV, only that she had been crying out for Tommy and Isla from the moment she was dragged from the river. Sally keeps asking for her children. She wants to go back to the river to look for them.

Finally she sees them, white faced with  blue lips, eyes closed, and peacefully frozen; they are sculptures. She waits for their tiny chests to rise, to breathe. Even adults who are experienced swimmers can’t survive in raging winter rivers. But Sally waits, tears frozen to her face.


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting!

Go Eskimos Go! Bring the Greycup to Edmonton!

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.