I need your help. I stumbled across Damon Wakes’ Flash Fiction Day earlier and couldn’t resist signing up for it (Doesn’t it look fun? You can still sign up, too, if you fancy it).
I don’t know how many stories I’ll manage to write. I’d like to write at least twelve. None of them longer than 100 words (obviously), but it’s still a lot. I’ll need plenty of inspiration. From you. A single word, a starting line, photo prompts, a (fictional) response to a recent post of yours – anything you’d like to see me use during my story marathon, pop it in the comments, please.
I am not going to promise I’ll use every prompt. But I’ll try.
This is the middle of nowhere. Murphy’s Law dictates the camper van break down here. We’re lucky we make it to the most bizarre car park: huge, empty but for a solitary bin, with no apparent reason for the provision of parking. If only we didn’t have more important stuff to worry about.
‘Do you have signal? Cos I don’t.’
‘Nope. We’ll have to stop another car and tell them to send a tow truck our way.’
Sounds good in theory.
But this is the middle of nowhere. We’ll have more than enough time to figure out this car park.
She caresses the battered book; I can practically see her thoughts forming. We’re seconds away from yet another eBooks make poor substitutes for real books argument when she freezes. Her squeal is followed by delighted hand-clapping. Meanwhile, I get shivers down my spine.
‘You won’t find hidden messages in an eBook, will you? Oh, yellow, curled parchment tucked into the lining – promising.’
‘What if it’s a hex?’ I’m trying to sound like I’m making a joke. The hairs on the back of my neck stand and I want to run.