Blog

Posted in Drabbles

Memories

It was in here somewhere, it had to be.

This is the box where I kept my most treasured possessions.

I pulled out a half-finished dream, that wasn’t it. Next came an argument still fermenting, then a small silver box containing the lies you told me, my broken heart wrapped up in brown paper, the remnants of our last fight, a jar of tears shed when you left me.

Then I find it, tucked away in the corner out of sight, the memory of our first kiss on that ride at the fair.

I hold it tight and cry.

MikeJackson©2018

A 100-word story for this week’s prompt at Friday Fictioneers.

Photo courtesy of J Hardy Carroll.

Advertisements
Posted in Micro Fiction

The Path

Daddy said we had to be brave and not look back, just keep walking.

He promised everything would be OK once we got to the end of the path. I so wanted to turn round, run back and jump into his arms but I didn’t.

We’ve been walking for years now and never once looked back.

I hope daddy’s waiting for us when we get to the end.

MikeJackson©2018

 

Posted in Drabbles

Humans for Supper

The enormous mechanical arachnid watched on from the shadows. As he eyed the two large pods hanging from the ceiling, oily saliva dribbled from his fearsome jaws. Very soon the first cracks would appear in those silver shells and the tiny infant humans inside would emerge. He knew that their first instinct, after being enclosed for nine months in that shell, would be to eat. With their eyes still closed their sense of smell would attract them to his steely web smothered in the milk from a human female. He savoured the prospect of his first decent meal in days.

MikeJackson©2018

A 100-word story for this week’s prompt at Friday Fictioneers.

Photo courtesy of T © Victor and Sarah Potter

Posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction

Open The Box

He was wandering between the shelves, marvelling at all the junk when he heard the voice,

“Excuse me, young man. I wonder if you could help me? I’m over here, top shelf, near the back, next to the skulls.”

He looked on the top shelf and there, nestled between some grotesque skulls and two green glass jars, was a small wooden box. Lifting it down and giving it a shake, he whispered, “Is there someone in there?”

“Yes there is and that someone would be grateful if you would stop shaking him about.”

“Sorry, but I’ve never seen a box before that’s got a person inside it. What are you doing in there?

“It’s a long story. All you need to know is that I’m a Genie and I’ve been locked in here for a long time. Now if you could just let me out.”

“A Genie! I thought they only came in lamps?”

“Normally they do, but the person who put me in here was in a bit of a hurry and lamps were in short supply.”

“But how do I get you out? There’s no lid. Shall I get a hammer and smash it open?”

“Don’t you dare!  All you need to do is rub the box three times.”

“But that’s what you do with lamps? Are you sure it’s the same with boxes?”

“What is it with little boys and questions? Just do it!”

“OK, but what’s in it for me?  Aren’t you supposed to give me a wish or something for rescuing you?”

“Get me out of here and I’ll give you anything you want. Just stop talking and rub the bloody box!”

“Alright! Alright! But first I have to ask my mum. Mum, can I rub this box three times and let the Genie out? He says he’ll grant me a wish if I do.”

“Don’t be silly Aladdin. What have I told you before about touching things in shops? Put that box back on the shelf before you break it and come over here where I can keep an eye on you.”

MikeJackson©2018