Grandfather’s Smile

I haven’t written much prose lately and thought I’m ease myself back gently with the help of Al’s fabulous ‘Sunday Photo Fiction’. Around 200 words of fiction based as loosely as you like around the weekly photo prompt. Follow the link to give it a go.

bike (1)

“A penny for your thoughts” he’d say. And I’d see that questioning look in his eyes, the slight rise of his brow that pulled one eye up higher than the other and he’d smile. I remember that smile.

I remember other things too, his smell, his hair, the coolness of his skin. But it was his smile that I remember the most.

He’d sit and wait for me to answer. He knew I would, I always did. I might play with my hands or look over to the window, maybe even get up and walk over to it, as if the moonlit view outside could somehow answer for me. But I’d always sit back down, look at him and speak.

“I don’t know if I can do it” My grandfather looked at me and smiled. Always that smile.

“It’s like riding a bike” he said,

“You never forget”

I twisted my hands in my lap and nodded.

He stood up, walked over and put his hand on my shoulder.

“I taught you well, my little one, it’s time”

Later that night my teeth sank into the Inspectors throat. I drank my fill, till his body went limp, my ravenous tongue tracing greedily across my fangs.

My grandfather smiled!

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Sucking Lemons

Back from a few days away and time to blow the writing cobwebs. Where better than the fab Friday Fictioneers. A 100 words (you’re not shot for going over) of fiction based on the weekly photo prompt. Follow the link and give it a go.

in-the-light

Photo Copyright : G.L. MacMillan

Certain places, like certain people, can instantly announce their character. In the case of the living, no particular feature need betray them; on the surface an open expression or an innocent smile and yet there’s a certainty that somethings amiss. Perhaps the same could be said of places. A feeling so intense that it tingles the nerves.

Moira ran from the tent clutching the love potion to her chest. The sky grew darker and the wind grew stronger as the old gypsy cackled in the background,

“Change those labels Fred, ‘Madam Ruby’s Love Elixir’ is going to sell way better than ‘Mrs Ruby’s Lemonade’ ever did”.

Walking With Strangers

crowds 2

One amongst the many,

Shadowing the wall,

Hiding with the others,

Lost within the whole,

*

Searching for an anchor,

A sea of crowded faces,

Only seeing strangers,

In all the familiar places,

*

Voices in the shadows,

Caution in the eyes,

Choruses of whispers,

Of ignorance and lies,

*

One amongst the many,

Each face is but the same,

Searching for acceptance,

Someone to know your name.

*

Original Photo Copyright: www.flickr.com/photos/marfis75/12300601595