Spirit of Ice – Flash Fiction

PHOTO PROMPT© Jennifer Pendergast

I awoke in the night. Drawn by a strange song. It bubbled and splashed. Groaned and cracked. I found myself walking towards the fjord. Cold snow under bare feet made me realise I was in thrall. Stuck in a walking dream. Led by some evil Fay. My body felt sleep heavy. My mind treacle slow.

I managed to throw myself into a snowdrift. The cold woke me fully. Just feets from the water’s edge.

I’m my mind I heard a rumbling laugh. “I’ll get you yet, lass. There’s still time before the spring thaw. Your blood will make me stronger.”

© RedCat


Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers. Click on the frog to read and participate.


Click here to read other stories by me.


Train Ride – Flash Fiction

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

The train rattles and shakes. Waking me from my slumber. Outside the window an abandoned industrial site flashes by. Then it’s all trees again. I look at my wristwatch. Shouldn’t we be passing hamlets by now? Outliers to the great city.

I get up to stretch my legs. Maybe a coffee in the restaurant cart will clear the cobwebs in my mind.

I realize all the compartments are empty. Where is everyone? The train wasn’t empty when leaving the last station.

No passengers. No conductor. No one at all. Just me on a train going deeper into the dark woods.

© RedCat


Derek Story on Unsplash.

Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers.


Click here to read other stories by me.


Click the frog to participate or read more stories inspired by this image.


Chestnut Trees – Flash Fiction

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

” – It’s nothing to worry about, just a little wind. “

Little did he know it was a storm sent by vindictive spirits. Upset by the way he’d ignored the law of the land.

He’d come back from studying abroad, saying we needed to do things like modern folks did. Taming nature to our ends, not relying on her blessings. So he dammed the rivers and chopped down the woods to make workhouses spewing smoke day and night. When the wise ones cautioned him, he called them silly old soothsayers.

In the morning. Not one of his prized chestnut trees still stood.

© RedCat


Georg Eiermann on Unsplash

Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers.

Click here to participate or read more stories.

The Cafe – Flash Fiction


The cafe began to feel like her only real home. A place that with or without known people made her feel less alone. A place where no one objected if her curious, quirky, whip-smart personality shone. She spent whole days sitting at a table. For the first time feeling she might be able to have friendships and camaraderie. At night she dreamt she’d stumble into a fable.

So what did the story teach? That her agile, perspicacious mind made her prone to the Jante law breach. That her fiery passion would make her for the unconventional way reach. 
She spent her days in her home away from home. Writing stories with elfs, fairies, unicorns and gnomes. Composing poetry that made her heart and soul the universe roam.

© RedCat


Wanted to write but lacked inspiration, so went on an internet trawl. Found this prompt to inspire me. The line given in this week’s First Line Friday at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie.

The line being:

The cafe began to feel like her only real home.

Including I word I learned today, perspicacity /ˌpəːspɪˈkasɪti/ meaning the quality of having a ready insight into things; shrewdness.


Click here to read other stories by me.


The Glob – Flash Fiction

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The day after the grand opening the international press coverage was damning.

“Welcome to football in the orange blob.” “Guns N’ Roses to play in an orange.”
“Stockholms new arena in a big gob.” “In Sweden the sun is dirty orange.”
“Swedes have no idea a word in one language may have a different meaning altogether in another.”
“Not one official working for Stockholm city speaks English at a preschool level.”

The city quickly changed the name to the Prince Bertil Arena, but the damage was done. For years to come, Stockholm was the laughing stock of the event industry.

© RedCat


Holger.Ellgaard, CC BY-SA 4, via Wikimedia Commons

Inspired by the Friday Fictioneer prompt picture and an article I read as the decision to rename the Globe Arena to Avicii Arena was announced. The architects of the largest hemispherical building on Earth suggested the name Prince Bertil Arena, but the city wanted something different so they held a contest. 4.756 entries came in, but none of them won. 

In the end the choice fell on a descriptive name. It was spherical, so why not name it Stockholm Glob Arena! Glob is swedish for Globe.
The name was registered and protected, before someone thankfully realized that glob would not be as internationally acceptable as first thought. And saved the city by adding an e to the name.

The reference to the Sun is because the building represents our star in the Sweden Solar System, the world’s largest permanent scale model of the Solar System.

Source on the near name debacle is from Dagens Nyheter, the article is in Swedish and behind their paywall. The Swedish Wikipedia article has more pictures, including of the construction.


Read other flash fiction by me here.

Click on the frog below to read more stories from Friday Fictioneers.



Holger.Ellgaard, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Morpheus Speaks – Flash Fiction


Welcome to the labyrinth of dreams. Here the hallways twist and turn, intersections changing place at the speed of thoughts. Doors switch location in the blink of an eye.

You’ll travel here every night of your life. So there’s plenty of time to get to know the place.

Beware of old nightmares skulking in the shadows. They’ll stalk hesitant dreamers, hunt them with figments of their darkest fantasies. Watch out for time vortexes that’ll trap you in flashback loops as the real world moves on.

The intrepid explorer will in time form a thought-feel map of the place. Able to move between emotional spaces. Learn what a dream teaches, then move on to the next. The unaware wanderer is prey to the tug of war between nightmares and sweet dreams.

Remember! Crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end.

© RedCat


Tonight it’s time for a monthly favorite at dVerse – Prosery. Where we write prose, not poetry, incorporating a given line from another work and not exceeding 144 words. 

Tonight’s line is “Crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end.” from Joy Harjo’s “A Map to the Next World.” I strongly recommend reading the poem, it blew me away!


Photo by FLY:D on Unsplash

Stardust Souls

NASA/SDO/AIA, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

We stardust souls are eternal, yet needing a flesh costume to affect and interact in the physical world. So we subject ourselves to the death-rebirth trauma of being born, forgetting most of our knowledge and wisdom in the process.

Then we grow and learn what we can in a lifetime. Laughter and joy. Friendship. Hope and despair. Love and hate. Pain and anguish.

When the flesh grows weak and old, we die and remember everything from the beginning of time. Remember the reason we undertake life again and again. Only to once again choose the flesh costume. Hoping this time we’ll be able to awaken the flesh’s animal soul enough to impart some of our wisdom. Knowing that all we can hope to become, are messengers. 

Only mouths are we. Who sings the distant heart which safely exists in the center of all things.

© RedCat


Written for Prosery: Here’s the thing about existing at dVerse. Where we write prose, maximum 144 words, incorporating a line of poetry.

Tonight’s line is from a favorite poet.

“Only mouths are we. Who sings the distant heart which safely exists in the center of all things? – from Rainer Maria Rilke, “Heartbeat.”


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