Flashfic thread: Rotating themes

How many posts to change the topic?


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Let's make the next topic: write (or right), and read (or red).

Use one or a combination of the four words.

She sighed as she put aside her book. She shouldn’t have read it until she had made a decision. The wanna be sub just wasn’t cutting it. She cared about him she did. But in his version of the world even a card was to much to ask of him. After all it spoke of a connection deeper then mindless sex, the kind where you skipped getting to know each other and just hit the damn sheets.

That’s all he wanted and it frustrated him that She wanted more. Damn book reading it made her want what she couldn’t have

I'm using this theme for my post. I'm counting mine as 2 of 10.



Allison read the discharge papers once more. If the doctors were right, she only had four months to live. The cancer had spread to her bladder, a potential cause for the blood red urine. Knowing she only had moths to live, she wondered if she should write her father to try and make amends one last time. Filing the newest medical info in her file cabinet, she found her mother’s death certificate. After a soft weep, she looked up her father’s address and picked up a pen and sheet of paper.
 
#3

Let's make the next topic: write (or right), and read (or red).

Use one or a combination of the four words.

After years of reading every how-to book on the market, he was ready to write. Sitting in his office, he grinned as he reached for a red binder. Ideas filled the pages, notes, outlines, and plots for stories he hoped to write, even names of characters, all waiting to find a spot in a novel. Anxious to begin, he opened a new document. Yet all the words and phrases seemed to abandon him at the sight of the empty page.

Hours later he picked up a book and turned to the first page. Someone had to read them after all.


100 words
 
4 of 10

Let's make the next topic: write (or right), and read (or red).

Use one or a combination of the four words.

A gentle tug on Chris' jacket brought a sideways glance to the shapely girl next to him that he had been trying not to look at. It wasn't that Elaine didn't draw his eye; his brother's girlfriend had always been someone who flustered him. When she'd asked him in the library for a ride, he'd forgotten what he'd been trying to write and just packed up.

"No 'Right on Red' here," Elaine said as he had prepared to move out after stopping for the signal.

Chris turned his attention back to the street and read the sign for himself. "So I see."
-----
100 :cool:
 
5 of 10

Let's make the next topic: write (or right), and read (or red).

Use one or a combination of the four words.

He dipped the brush into the paint and then held it, for a moment, studying her. She lay stretched out across the bed, her limbs bound so tight she could hardly move, stretched tight like a canvas, as he used his brush to write a hundred words on her skin in bright red ink. It wasn't right, making her do this. Anyone who looked at her would be able to read that she belonged to him. She knew if she begged or fought he would just take longer, or start again. Only five more words. Then it would be over.
 
6 of 10

I sat down to write to him, owing him a tome! Each time I read it back, my thoughts were so disjointed.

He’s a good friend and worthy of so much more than a few scribbled lines. Hopefully he knows my heart is in the right place. How can I write that and have it make sense?

Enough delay. Here goes another try. I wonder how long it will be before the phone rings or an urgent email or text message comes to pull me away from this writing.

If you are reading this, yes, it’s for you. Only you.




(100 words)
 
Bump!

Come now, writers...

Read what the current idea is. Are you afraid you might make someone Red with your words?

Right now is the time to WRITE!
 
7 of 10

The box held a red leather corset, matching gloves, and stockings. Gabby guessed it was from Max, but when she saw the message, her face turned as red as the outfit in the package.

I dream of my mouth making your cunt go wild.

“Max didn’t write this,” she whispered.

“I did.”

Shocked to hear someone in her room, Gabby gasped.

Soft fingers traced Gabby’s cleavage. “I’m going to fuck you, Gabby.”

“Cassie—”

“We’re right for each other.”

“Max—”

“Max doesn’t know what you need like I do.”

Gabby groaned, her body telling her the girl was right.


(100 words)
 
8 of 10

He didn't think much of love, until he saw her.
Now he can hardly sleep, he's thinking about her so much. When he does sleep, he dreams of touching her silken hair, tasting her strawberry lips, and wakes tangled in his sheets. She colors his thoughts when he's trying to read. He thinks of calling her often, but he always stops before he hits send, his face reddening at the thought of her angelic voice in his ear.
The only thing that calms his frenzied heart is writing, and even then bits of her find their way onto the paper.

~100 words~
 
A Strong Hand

9 out of 10

Riding down the road, listening to music as dark as her mood. She thinks about the words she just read, again. The ones he had written.

Stopped at a red light, so tempted to turn around and go back. Fuck, don't do it - he's a sadist. Maybe even the one she wants.

God dammit! She hits her blinker, turns right and heads back to the shop. Once inside she grabs a scratch pad to write on.

"This girl needs a strong hand. Is yours strong enough?"
 
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I snatched the paper off my windshield and shoved it into my purse. Tired after working an extra shift of waitressing, I just wanted to get home and sleep. Once there, I tossed my coat over a chair, kicked my boots off, and shrugged out of my greasy uniform. I began unhooking my bra before I stepped into the living room.

“Surprise!”

Shocked to see my friends and family staring at my half naked body, I screamed and ran from the room.

“I tried to warn you,” Dave yelled as he followed me. “You should have read the damn note!”

100 words
 
So that was 10 of 10. Time for a new category. Who wants to choose something?
 
Choose and be Destroyed.

...or reborn. Or something.

Choices are tasty. Choices are hard. Choices are easy. Choices are in everything we do.

Here we have a conundrum. A familiar one. A fella in a loveless marriage; the kind that started out with a whole bunch of promise, his wife finds that making a house is more interesting than he is. What had looked like it would blossom into a future turned into a prison.

Through that prism comes the thrill of a breath of fresh air. Someone who gets his attention. Someone who shows an interest in him. Someone who offers a way out. A coworker, perhaps? A chance meeting on a train or plane? A temptation that is not so easily discarded.

The choice is clear; stay true, or go with your gut? We've seen this before, time and again. What's your choice story? Do you save your marriage or go rogue?
 
Choice 1 of 10

Her finger hovered over the shutter-release. She'd teased him the night before, saying she was going to send him a little surprise, but could she go through with it? Now that the opportunity was here, she was unsure.

She looked in the mirror. A middle-aged housewife looked back at her, dressed in fancy lingerie, but still pasty white and about twenty pounds heavier than she should be.

Maybe if she focused the camera just right, she wouldn't look so unattractive. Click! She studied the image in the viewfinder. She typed in his address. Send or delete? She made her selection.


~ 100 words. ~
 
Choice: 2 of 10

Theresa was so excited. Mom and Dad were going to let her have a kitten for her very own. She knew she had to take care of it and that was okay with her. When they arrived at the farm there were so many kitties to choose from. All colors with long and short fur, how would she ever choose? Then she saw a black one all by itself. The lady said it was the runt, but she wanted it. When she held it to her cheek it it began to purr and she knew she'd made the right choice.

(100 words)
 
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3 out of 10

“ 'Cuda. Hemi. Cherry.” The man's words drifted around the Rick's head. He knew all about this car. He'd been riding past it every day. He was sixteen; his brand-new license tucked in his wallet. He needed this car. He could get laid in this car.

A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Buddy, the chestnut gelding he'd watched being foaled on his fifth birthday, tossed his head. He loved this horse. They were inseparable.

“Okay. Your horse for all this horsepower.” The man held out his hand. “Deal?”

Rick made his choice.

{100 words}
 
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Choices: 4 of 10

The bar was nearly empty when she strolled in. Curves in all the right places, long legs, pretty face, shiny black hair, a beauty. I couldn't stop staring. I smiled at her and she came over and sat down. Over drinks we laughed and talked for hours and discovered we had a lot in common. When our eyes met and held I knew she was the one. Later, when we made sweet love it was glorious. In the morning she nuzzled my neck and said "Will you be mine, Susan?" My heart sang and I nodded; I'd made my decision.

(100 words)
 
choice: 5 of 10

He used the stone wall to catch himself. Spending the last ounce of pride left to him. The earth would not know his knees. Not this day, and not in front of her. He could feel the tickle of blood between his fingers.

His smile did not come easy. It played upon his lips like a bittersweet song. No longer caring which moment would be his last. His blue eyes traced the horizon. Feeling the sun’s warmth upon his flesh. In the end, she had chosen. Chosen her fate. Chosen his. He pulled the dagger from his chest. Damn her.


(100)
 
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6 of 10

He wanted them all. Blondes, redheads, and brunettes, with sexy eyes and pouting lips. Each time he thought he was ready to choose, he saw another one who captured his attention. If he chose the redhead, he might never have a chance with the blonde. But he couldn’t pass on the brunette. Melvin went through the profiles again, eliminating them one by one, until he had just the redhead left. All he had to do was make contact with her. Melvin shook his head and slowly closed the screen. He couldn’t choose just one—not when he wanted them all.


100 words
 
7 of 10

Great party, but he hadn’t even noticed her. Disgusted, determined, she marched into the bathroom, pulled her panties off, and stuffed them into the trash under some kleenex. Maybe if there was no panty line showing under her silky silver dress…

She reclaimed her spot near the potted palm, drink in hand, standing so the ceiling spot added a deep shadow to her modest cleavage. A tuxedoed server glided by and refreshed her champagne - for the sixth time.

Finally, out of desperation, she said it to herself, silently. “Choose me!”

The party stopped. Everyone looked at her. Everyone but him.

(100)
 
8 of 10

Choices. I hate choices. It all started when I was younger. Do you want to wear the red cardigan or the yellow? Neither. They’re cardigans. Just dress me up in a sweater vest and hand a baseball bat to the kid down the street why don’t you. Let me be a piñata for awhile. I’ve avoided choices all my life. That’s why I’m single and happy. Why choose one girl when you don’t have too. It’s great. Well, until my girlfriends realized they were plural. So, is it any wonder why I cut the wrong wire. Damn, I hate choices.


(100 words)
 
9 of 10

Travis held the disruptor rifle steady, looking from one woman to the other. They were identical. One was his co-pilot and lover, the other a creature expert at mimicry that devoured its unsuspecting victims. They had been warned about these creatures, but the lure of Osmodium deposits on Tetris IV was too hard to resist; now they were in trouble. Both were pleading with him not to shoot. One woman's eyes reflected the light, the others did not. He fired and the woman he'd shot collapsed in a pile of scales, fangs and claws. He had made the right decision.

(100 words)
 
Good stuff!

Remember that whoever posts #10 names the next topic! :)
 
10 out of 10

Good stuff!

Remember that whoever posts #10 names the next topic! :)

Barry looked down at the two bottles on the bathroom counter. The first one, a sleekly shaped cologne he'd seen advertised on television. “This one smells so good. All the girls will be after you if you wear it,” the woman at the cosmetic kiosk said as she took his money.

The second bottle couldn't have been more different. He'd watched the old guy pour the liquid from a battered tin pot into a chipped beer bottle. “This'll get you laid, boy,” he cackled, trading a tenspot for the bottle.

“Fuck it,” Barry said and grabbed one.

{100 words}

New topic: Snow.
 
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