Haiku: Lost


My numb mind shatters

As maternal love breaks me

You take your last breath



This is part of a weekly haiku writing challenge which must be written in the English form of 5-7-5.

Hosted by RonovanWrites

#42 Prompt: Write a haiku using the words “love” and “last”

High Life


Crystal sat cross-legged on the sand across from Marcus.

He shook his head. “Look at those idiots,” he pointed to a group of boys jumping off the cliff into the rocky water below.

Crystal scrunched up her face, squinting. “Stupid,” she agreed coughing and giggling. “Stupid little boys.”

“Exactly. Like little boys trying to prove something to…whatever,” Marcus snickered. “Grow up!” he shouted. They both laughed. “Stupid adrenaline junkies.”

“Yeah. Morons. That’s wicked high. Jumping from Horizon Point should be, like, illegal.”

“Totally,” he sighed and laid his head in Crystal’s lap. “Hey, pass me the joint. You’re hogging.”



April 22 Prompt: Vice (Write a story that includes a vice–or multiples, if you are so daring)

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

And Then There Were Three


She sat among shattered porcelain. Bright red blood mixed with pale yellow roses edged the plate.

The drops were so round and so red. She stared at them, thinking they were too perfect to belong on a thing that was broken.

Blood was supposed to be messy. She remembered rust-colored smudges.

Plates were supposed to be whole. She remembered choosing china with lemon-colored flowers.

Nothing here was right.

Her daughter’s dolls didn’t seem to notice the chaos, sitting at their table with tiny cups and saucers. They stared at her, though, as if waiting. “I didn’t mean to break it!” She flung her arms up to show the cuts. “I tried to catch it! The roses…she loved the roses. My little girl.” She buried her face in her hands, smearing blood. “She’s going to be upset. She’s going to hate me.”

The dolls now held anger and guilt and fear in their shiny glass eyes. “Yes. That’s right. You see? There were four. Four plates. Four children. I broke it.” She grabbed a handful of shards, throwing them at the table. “She won’t come back now, you see? I broke it! It’s gone, you stupid things! She’s not coming back!”



200 Word Tuesdays is a flash fiction writing challenge with a monthly prompt which must be written in 200 words.
200 words. No more, no less. Okay, 200-ish. (This one is 200 on the nose.)

Hosted by the the lovely ReeDaBee

April Prompt: And then there were three

Cracking Up


“Hi, there. Can I borrow some eggs?”

“Um. Sure, I guess. I…” Molly opened the door wider. The woman on her front porch stood a solid foot taller than Molly, who took a step back. “Um…how many do you need?”

“Whatever you’ve got,” she smiled and held her hand out. “I’m Louisa. Just moved in next door. I haven’t even unpacked the truck yet and that one,” she jerked her head toward the house across the street, “already complained about my lawn, insulted my garden, and yelled at my dog. I’m egging her house.”

Molly grinned. “Please, come in.”



April 15 Prompt: Write a story about nurturing a neighborly relationship.

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

Cutting Words


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tara swiped peach gloss over her bottom lip again.

Allie thrust the crumpled paper at Tara.

“What is that?” Tara laughed.

“I know you wrote this. About Cindy.”

“Who?” Tara checked the mirror one last time, smoothed a hair into place, and started to walk away. Allie grabbed her wrist.

“What is your issue? Take your crazy out on someone else.”

“It’s your fault if she goes through with it,” Allie called after her.


Allie’s phone buzzed. A text from Cindy:
I’m alive. Plan 2 stay that way. C U 2nite.



April 8 Prompt: Write a renewal story that proclaims “This isn’t the end; I will go on.”

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

On the Scene


“Wait!” Skinny rushed over with her can of hairspray, lifting a flyaway strand out of my face.

I sighed, “Hurry! I’m first on the scene. Don’t screw this up for me.”

“Okay.” Skinny scurried away. “Just wanted…”

“Whatever,” I snapped. “Blondie, you ready?”

Blondie shifted her camera slightly, “Go.”

I drew my eyebrows together, pursed my lips, and spoke slowly. “Minutes ago,” I slumped my shoulders and swung my arm to show the surrounding brown grass and trees, “our beloved park….”

“Stop. News reports coming in from everywhere—‘the dying earth’ they’re calling it. You’re not the first…”




April 1 Prompt: Brown Earth (Write about the day the Earth turned brown)

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch