Flash Fiction Friday

Flash Fiction Friday: Summer Dreams

/ kellyfbarr / 3 Comments

Lila sat under an umbrella on the beach reading a book. A volleyball landed by her feet and rolled up beside her knee. She put her book down and reached for the volleyball. Just as she was about to give it a toss, she saw tan feet attached to muscular legs stop near her toes.

A guy with curly black hair and marine blue eyes peeked under her umbrella and squatted down. “Hi, I’m sorry if our volleyball disturbed you.” He smiled, flashing perfectly straight, white teeth and deep dimples. His arms and chest reminded her of the marble sculptures of Adonis, the Greek god, in some museum her mother had dragged her to a few years ago.

She still hadn’t said anything, and the gorgeous guy stretched out a hand toward her. “Could I please have our volleyball back?”

She shook her head to clear her brain. “I’m sorry. No, you’re volleyball didn’t disturb me.” She handed the volleyball to him and tried to put on her most charming smile.

“My name’s Lila, by the way, Lila Prescott.”

He smiled again. “Nice to meet you, Lila. I’m Blake Williams. See ya around.”

Then he was gone.

Lila sighed. If she’d really see Blake around, her summer might not be as bad as she had feared. Maybe she could have her own romance while her dad was busy chasing after bikini clad women who were way too young for him.

She hadn’t wanted to spend the summer with her dad again as he went through his midlife crisis acting like he was twenty-something again. But spending the summer at home with her mother wouldn’t have been much better. At least Dad didn’t try to tell her how to dress and wear her hair. Of course, he didn’t want to be seen with her either because he didn’t want his female prospects to know he was old enough to have a teenage daughter.

She hoped she’d see Blake again. He was hotter than the sand beneath her feet. Could he really take an interest in a girl who hid beneath layers of sunscreen and a beach umbrella to avoid turning into a lobster?

Flash Fiction Friday: Another High School Dance

/ kellyfbarr / 1 Comment

Parker watched her from across the room. While her friends were around her, she was chatting, animated and laughing. During the upbeat songs, they were on the dance floor in a group. As the tempo of the songs slowed, guys asked her friends to dance, leaving her alone. She either stood leaning against the wall or sat in a chair in a corner. She watched the couples with her arms crossed. She rubbed her arms with her hands.

He held his breath as he watched her rise and take a deep breath. She walked to the right side of the room and stopped in front of a young man. She spoke, the young man spoke and she turned away, her face flushed and downcast as she returned to a chair in the corner. No sooner had she sat down, then the young man she had spoken to entered the dance floor with another girl.

He released his breath. What was the problem? She wasn’t repulsive. Of course, she wasn’t what all of the magazines wanted guys to believe was “the perfect” girl either. But she was pretty.

When her friends returned, they spoke and she shook her head. This time she remained seated as her friends danced in a group.

When the next slow song began, he pulled himself away from the wall he had been leaning on and walked across the room. He stopped in front of her. When she looked up, he smiled and reached a hand toward her. “Would you like to dance?”

His heart lurched as she hesitated. “Are you sure?” Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

“I am quite sure.” He took her hand, led her to the dance floor and held her in his arms.

Flash Fiction Friday: Basking in the Summer Sun

/ kellyfbarr / Leave a comment

She stretched her arms up to the sun. She loved the way it kissed her face and warmed her after last night’s chilling rain. The world around her was waking up. Children came outdoors to play, their puppy following closely behind.

The puppy wandered over and sniffed her upturned face. She feared that it may sprinkle on her, but it soon moved on to open grass.

Soon a little girl came close to examine her. An older girl approached. The little girl looked up the the older one. “Pretty flower,” she said. “Yes, that is a dahlia. Now, come along.”

Flash Fiction Friday: Bull Ride

/ kellyfbarr / Leave a comment

Tate Russell stood above the bull, one foot on the fence and one on the gate. He put leather gloves on and reached down with his left hand to grip the thick rope tied around the middle of the bulky animal.

All he had to do was stay on for twenty seconds after the gate lifted. The bull pawed the ground and snorted. A hard knot formed in Tate’s stomach. He swallowed and pushed all thoughts of what could go wrong out of his mind. He had to focus on his grip, the animal and take each moment as it came. He nodded that he was ready. He eased himself down upon the longhorn, the gate opened and the bull jumped out of the gate and started bucking.

Tate held on with his left hand, his right hand in the air helping to balance his body as he was jerked around by the bucking of the bull. Ten seconds in and the bull bucked and twisted its body throwing Tate to the ground.

Tate got up, ran and jumped over the fence to avoid further confrontation with the dangerous animal. He dusted off his behind shaking his head. He didn’t win this one, but there’s always another ride.

Flash Fiction Friday: The Thief of Westhaven

/ kellyfbarr / 2 Comments

As he walked through the woods, he heard leaves crunching up ahead. He creeped from tree to tree wary of what may lie ahead. As he slipped up behind the large trunk of an old oak tree he saw her, a woman of exquisite beauty.  Her auburn hair appeared to be blazing with the sun’s rays shining on it. Her lips,  red and moist, touted an invitation to a kiss. Her large eyes sparkled in the unusual color of violet and her complexion, a flawless peaches and cream. She paced back and forth wringing her hands. She was dressed in tan leggings and a dark green tunic with a scalloped bottom.  Tied to a cord around her waist hung a lumpy, brown bag that jingled at each of her steps. A bow lay on the ground near her feet, and slung over her shoulder, a quiver of arrows.

He decided on a cautious approach to offer assistance,  but before he shifted from his position a thundering noise came through the trees to his left and a great, sleek, black stallion trotted to the woman.

“Oh, you’re here! I feared you had been killed.” She wrapped her arms about its neck and pressed her face against its jaw as the horse nuzzled her neck with its lips.

“We must get out of here.” She seized her bow, grabbed hold of the stallion’s long, flowing mane and heaved herself upon its back, and as he stood mesmerized at the sight, beauty fled from his undisclosed presence.

A knowing grin slid across his face. No one would believe that the thief of Westhaven was a beautiful woman.

Flash Fiction Friday: Scars

/ kellyfbarr / Leave a comment

Lightning flashed and thunder roared.  Then came the pouring rain pelting down so hard it stung her bare face and arms.  Mavis ran for shelter.

She rushed into the log cabin, closing the door behind her.  Her breath caught in her throat.  Ray stood in the middle of the room.  His cold, dark eyes held her in a hard stare.  Mavis trembled, not just from the chill of the rain.

Her eyes spotted the near empty whiskey bottle on the table.  She turned and tried to open the door figuring it was better to chance being struck by lightning than to take another beating.

Ray swiftly closed the distance between them.  He grabbed her upper arms before she could get the door open.  He turned her to face him.  “Where ya been, Mavis?”

“I was taking care of the animals.”  Her voice trembled.

“The stupid animals could’ve waited.  I’m hungry and you’ve kept me waiting for my supper!”  He shoved her toward the kitchen.

Mavis stumbled.  After regaining her balance, she grabbed some wood and fed the barely burning embers.  She grabbed two frying pans.  She mixed up buttermilk dough for biscuits, cut them and put them on a tray in the oven.  She peeled and sliced a few potatoes.  She put a steak in one pan, some lard and the potatoes in the other.

“Hurry up!  I’m powerful hungry.”  Ray started across the room.

“Please God, don’t let him hit me.”  Mavis whispered.

Ray stopped behind her.  He stood so close she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.  She tried to still her trembling as she turned the steak then the potatoes.

His arms wrapped around her waist.  He kissed the side of her neck.  “You’re still a good lookin’ woman, Mavis.”  He reached with one hand and pulled the clip from her hair and let the brown waves cascade down her back.  He ran his hand through her hair, kissing her neck again.    He breathed in her ear.  “You know how I love your hair free and loose.  You should let it hang more often.”

“I have to get the biscuits out of the oven.”

Ray stepped back just far enough to allow her to retrieve the biscuits.  When she had set them down and moved the pans to the back of the stove, he wrapped her in his arms.

She hated the smell of whiskey on his breath.

“Forget supper, Mavis.  I’ve got a mighty hunger for somethin’ else right now.”  He leaned to kiss her.  She turned her head away.

“Oh, now don’t be silly, Ray.  The food’s all done.  You should eat it before it gets cold.”

Ray grabbed a handful of her hair.  “Don’t tease me, Mavis.”

He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.  Her heart felt like a heavy stone in her chest.  Tears stung at the backs of her eyes and she willed them not to spill over.

Afterward, Ray went to the kitchen and ate, while Mavis lay in the bed silent tears rolling into her hair.

No, he hadn’t hit her, but she wasn’t sure whether it was the beatings or the being taken advantage of that hurt more.  Both left their scars.

Flash Fiction Friday: Out of the Flames

/ kellyfbarr / Leave a comment

She sat in a heap next to the smoking embers of what used to be a cabin.  Her face was black except where the tears had run down.  Her dress streaked with black had some holes where the fire had grabbed it but she had managed to extinguish those flames.

A rider came into the yard.  She didn’t even look up.

*  * * * *

He was too late.  He had seen the flames from a couple of miles away and smelled the smoke as the wind carried it to his homestead.  He had ridden as fast as he could in hopes of helping whoever was in trouble.

There didn’t seem to be anything left.  Two buildings lay in smoking embers.

His heart lurched.  Was that a woman?

He rode a bit closer, then dismounted.  Yes, it was a woman, but she didn’t move a muscle, didn’t even seem to be aware that he was there.

He stepped closer.  “Ma’am?”

No response.

He squatted and touched her arm.  “Ma’am, are you okay?”

When her eyes met his, his heart plunged into his stomach.  Her eyes displayed emptiness.  A couple of stray tears trickled down her cheeks.  She seemed unable to speak.

She appeared to be a few years younger than he.  Her empty eyes were smoky gray and her brown hair lay in tangles on her shoulders.  He was certain that cleaned up she’d be right pretty.

One thing was certain, she was alone and needed help.  He wasn’t about to leave her here.

“Ma’am, my name’s Joshua Collins.  I live just a few miles from here.  I’d like to take you home with me.  I promise no harm will come to you, but you can’t stay here.  Can you stand?”

He took her hand and placed his arm around her waist to help her to her feet.  She didn’t appear to have any injuries aside from some blisters on her hands he reckoned she got from trying to stop the fire.  He led her to his horse and helped her mount.  He climbed up behind her and headed back to his homestead at a much slower pace than when he was trying to get here.

At his homestead, he got some cool water and cleaned her hands and face.  He put some ointment on her hands.  She was exhausted and hadn’t spoken a word.  He let her have his bed and he slept on a chair in the living room. He’d see about getting her some things tomorrow.

He had just dozed off when a woman’s scream startled him awake.  He went into the bedroom to find the woman sitting up in the bed.  She was screaming, “Clint, no, Clint don’t go in there!  The barn’s too far gone!  Clint!”  Then she started sobbing.  He sat down and held her in his arms.  “It’s okay.  You’re safe.  I’m so sorry about Clint.”

When her sobbing quieted, he told her to lie back down, covered her with the blanket and went back to his chair in the living room.  This poor woman had a long road ahead.  He would do whatever he could to make it easier for her.

Flash Fiction Friday: Who’s the Real Horse Thief

/ kellyfbarr / Leave a comment

The horses galloped at a frightening speed.  The sleek black stallion quickly gaining upon the bay gelding.  The stallion’s rider pulled alongside the gelding and grabbed for the reins as the gelding’s rider jerked the reins hoping the horse would swerve to the right.

Too late.  The horses halted, the stallion’s rider jumped to the ground and pulled the rider from the gelding.  His grip was tight and through clenched teeth came the words, “You know what we do to horse thieves?”

The rider in his grasp twisted to break free, but he only gripped tighter.  A whimper assaulted his ears.  It was then he realized how much he towered over this rider.  He pulled the hood from the rider’s head.

“What the . . .?”

Fiery green eyes glared at him from a peaches and cream face with a perfectly shaped pink bow mouth.

“Unhand me, you brute!” She said.  “I’m no horse thief.”

“The horse you were galloping away on does not belong to you.”

“It most certainly does.  It was stolen from our ranch with several other horses two weeks ago.  I was simply taking back what belongs to me.”  Her gaze never left his and never faltered.

The sudden silence between them was electrified.  Their gazes locked.  His eyes were the deepest blue she had ever seen, his face a bit weather beaten but attractive.  The dark curls upon his head begged to have her fingers run through them.  She found herself holding her breath wanting him to kiss her while fearing that he would.

Approaching riders broke the spell.

A large man with red, curly hair and red beard came to a stop upon a white stallion.  There were two men on horseback behind him. The big man looked at the two people before him and let out a hearty chuckle.

“A woman!  A woman has almost managed to steal one of our horses?”

“It is not your horse!”

The man beside her put his arm around her waist.

The man on the horse raised a brow at the man on the ground.  “You know this little spitfire?”

“I’ve seen her on the rodeo circuit.  She’s had my attention for some time now.”  He grinned, revealing deep dimples.

“He . . .” The rest of her sentence was cut off as he pulled her closer to his side.

“Well, I’ll take the horse.  You can do with her what you will.”  The big man grinned at the man on the ground and reached for her horse’s reins.

The man next to her handed the reins, of her horse, to the big man. He and the other two rode away.

She pelted his chest with her fists with no effect.  “Why did you let him take my horse again?”

“If you wouldn’t have given up that horse, you would’ve been in terrible danger.  That man has no care for people and he will stop at nothing to obtain any horses he wants.”

“So you lied, and I suppose you see yourself as my hero.” Her eyes flashed.

A mischievous smile played across his lips and he bowed.  “At your service.”

“Unbelievable!  I don’t need a hero.  I need my horse.” Her words sounded biting even to her own ears, and when she saw a flicker of what? Pain? Flash in his eyes, she almost wished she could take them back.

“Look, I’m sorry about your horse.  Let me take you home.”

Again their eyes met and she couldn’t look away.  What was it about this man that had such an effect on her.  Why did she want to hit him and kiss him at the same time?

“Fine, but I’ll sit behind you.”  There was no way she was going to sit in front of him on that horse so that she would have to lean back against his broad chest and have his muscled arms around her to hold the reins.  The thought alone brought heat to her cheeks. She hoped he didn’t notice.

He smiled as her cheeks grew pink with her words.  “Have it your way.”

*  * * * *

When they arrived at the ranch, he brought his horse to a stop at the end of the lane where some low-hanging tree branches hid them from the house.  He dismounted the horse and reached up, put his hands on her waist and pulled her down.  His hands lingered on her waist longer than necessary and when she looked up, his mouth met hers.

The kiss was quick and tender but her pulse was pounding and her knees were weak.  She clung to his arms to keep her balance.  He put a finger under her chin and raised her head to look into her eyes.

“My name is Elijah Shepard.  I’m not a horse thief and I’d really like to see you again.”

She stood on her own now with many thoughts swirling through her mind.

When the thoughts cleared, she said, “If you’re not a horse thief, prove it.  Help me get my horse back.  That’s the only way you’re going to see me again.”

His lips formed a tight thin line.

She turned to go.

“Hey, you didn’t tell me your name.”

“Samantha.  Samantha Bennet.”

Flash Fiction Friday: Love Across Time

/ kellyfbarr / Leave a comment

She sat reading a book.  When she turned the page, a slip of paper floated to the floor.

What could that be?

She bent to pick it up.  The edges were yellow and the paper was thin, fragile.

My Darling,

If you have found this note,
it means we have been separated and my heart is yearning for you.
Remember how we pledged each other our love?
I’ll never stop loving you as long as I live.  

If you have found this note,
I am searching for you.
I’ll never stop searching until I hold you in my arms again
and kiss your soft, sweet lips.

Forever Yours,

Alex

Oh, what a romantic, heart-wrenching note.  Who is Alex and who is his darling?  Oh, to be loved like that.  She closed her eyes and imagined a gentleman with black hair and deep blue eyes searching, calling.  She put her hand to her heart.

“Clarissa.  Clarissa.”

She opened her eyes with a start.

“Clarissa, are you all right?”

“Yes, Father, I am fine.  I was just lost in my thoughts for a while.”

“Well, it’s almost time we should be going.  Please go and prepare.”

“Yes, Father.”

She arose, tucked the fragile note into her pocket and went to her room to dress for the party, thoughts of a devoted Alex still on her mind.

*  * * * *

She and her father rode in the carriage.  She felt her father’s eyes upon her before he spoke.

“Clarissa, I do hope you will find one of the young men at this party to your liking.  You are quickly approaching the age where it will become harder for you to find someone suitable to marry.”

She sighed.  She hated these parties.  Her father paraded her around and introduced her to one young man after another, all from good quality stock, of course.

All so young and arrogant.

“I know, Father.  I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to be difficult, but I don’t want to marry just to increase our fortune.”

“Clarissa, you must let go of your silly notion of romance.  If we find you a good match, you will learn to love him, and he, you.”

Clarissa turned to the window willing the burning tears not to spill over.  Her father didn’t understand.  Times like these she wished her mother was still here.  She was sure her mother would understand.  Oh, how she missed her.

The coach stopped, interrupting her thoughts.  She pulled herself together, took one last deep breath and smiled at her father.  “Well, maybe this time, we’ll both find what we’re looking for.”  Her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

*  * * * *

As Clarissa looked around, she saw no new faces in the crowd.  She tried not to show her disappointment.  Several young men approached and asked to put their name upon her dance card.  She smiled and allowed them to write their names.

It wasn’t that these young men weren’t attractive.  Many were even kind and polite, but they just saw her as a prize, a possession, and she wanted to be so much more than that.  She wanted to be a gentleman’s most valuable treasure.  She wanted to be cherished.

When there was a break on her dance card, she made her way to the veranda doors.  She looked around to be sure no one noticed and then slipped out for a breath of air.

She walked away from the doors to the railing and peered into the lovely garden below.  She could smell the magnolia and she breathed deeply of their heady aroma.

“Clarissa!”

She turned.

“Oh my darling, it is you!”

Her hand flew to her breast.  She could barely breathe.  It couldn’t be.  Before her stood a handsome man with black hair and deep blue eyes.  Was she about to faint?  Was she dreaming?

“Alex?” It was barely a whisper.

He closed the distance between them and took her in his arms.  She breathed in the  wood scent of his shirt.

“Oh my darling, I had begun to fear I’d never see you again, but I couldn’t give up.”  Then his mouth claimed hers in a tender kiss that spoke of his longing.

When their lips parted, she clung to him breathless and weak-kneed.  Had he released his grip on her she surely would have crumbled to the floor.

How could this be?  His arms felt like home, and his kiss. . . his kiss was familiar.  But that note.  It had been old.  How could she and this man be the couple the note spoke of?

“Oh, Alex, how long has it been?”

“My darling, don’t you remember?  We have been apart since the war.  Your father would not allow you to marry a man who’s family sided with the Yankees.”

The Yankees?  The Civil War?  But that was a hundred years ago.

“I will not lose you this time, Clarissa.  I cannot.  I will die if we part again.  Please say you’ll run away with me if your father will not give his blessing for us to be wed?”

Her head was spinning.  This couldn’t be real but it all felt so right and something inside her remembered him.  She took his hand.

“Come, we shall go inside and you can ask my father for my hand now.”

His eyes grew round.

“Don’t worry, my dear Alex, if he refuses, I will leave with you anyway.  I won’t lose you again.”

 

Flash Fiction Friday: An Unlikely Friendship

/ kellyfbarr / Leave a comment

An elderly lady sat upon a park bench on a sunny afternoon.  She was watching the children playing, when she realized someone had sat down next to her.  She turned to see a tall, thin, young man dressed in tattered jeans, a black t-shirt and black leather jacket.  She looked him up and down and found him also wearing black leather army boots.  In one hand, he was holding a lit cigarette, in the other, a bottle of beer.  His bleached blond hair was cut in a mohawk style and spiked high.  He had an earring in his nose.

* * * * *

He saw the look of fear flash over her face to be quickly replaced by uncertainty.  He smiled at her.

“Nice day, isn’t it?”

She smiled.  “Yes, it is.”

“You from around here?”

“I live a few blocks away.  I like to walk here on nice days and watch the children play.  The walk does my body good and the children do my heart good.”

“You remind me of my grandmother.  I sure do miss her.”

“Did something happen to her?”

“She passed away when I was ten years old.  She had cancer.  She used to make the best chocolate chip cookies and tell me the greatest stories, stories about her childhood and her life with grandpa when my dad was growing up.”

“Sounds like you and she loved each other very much.”

“Yeah.  We sure did.  I spent a lot of time with her.  So, how ’bout you?  You have grandkids?”

“No, I have one son who lives in the midwest.  He and his wife are very career minded and don’t have any children.  They’re busy.  I haven’t seen them in three years.”

“That’s too bad.  You seem like you’d make a good grandma.”

She smiled and stood up to go.

“Can I walk you home?”

“That would be kind of you, and it just so happens that I have some chocolate chip cookies that I baked yesterday.  They may not be the same as your grandma’s, but you’re welcome to have some with a glass of milk when we get there.”

He stood and offered her his arm.  She took it and they began to walk slowly.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Sadie Thompson.  What’s yours?”

“Zach Jeffries.”

“You know Zach,  I think we were supposed to meet today.  We just might become good friends,”

“I’d like that.”