Short Short Stories

Story Starters: 5-10-14

Story Starters are prompts that must be the first part of your story. To participate, please link back to this post and put a link to your post in the comments. My favorite post for each story starter will be reblogged on Friday.*

Flash Fiction (less than 1,000 words):

“It’s over.”

Short Story (Over a 1,000 words, but we’ll set the limit at 10,000 words)

Some day those pandas are going to come back to get revenge.

*Please note: If there are no posts linked to this post, there will be no post reblogged. Also, any stories with anything inappropriate will not be chosen. Thank you!

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Story Starters: 4-12-14

Story Starters are prompts that must be the first part of your story. To participate, please tag your post with p31tStarter and link back to this post. My favorite post for each story starter will be reblogged on Friday.*

Flash Fiction (less than 1,000 words):

There was no escape.

Short Story (Over a 1,000 words, but we’ll set the limit at 10,000 words)

If only s/he had never found that platypus in his/her locker.

*Please note: If there are no posts linked to this post or tagged with p31tStarter, there will be no post reblogged. Also, any stories with anything inappropriate will not be chosen. Thank you!

Alien

I originally wrote this for the Weekly Writing Challenge – Fifties, but I was a little late, and it was 67 words instead of fifty… Here it is.

Alien

Kyle struggled through the desert sand next to the nearly-deserted road next to his friend Wyatt. He looked down at the bright green paint still on his clothes from the “paint incident” that morning. And now the breakdown. A car whizzed past and Kyle noticed the gaping faces in the windows?

“What’s their problem?” he griped aloud.

Wyatt grinned. “I think they thought you were an alien.”

Treasures

A poker chip. A pair of dice. A screwdriver. A rock. All hidden in an old, rotten box shoved in an old, rotten tree.

The collection wasn’t much. Just a boy’s favorite treasures, dirty and smudged. The woman traced the A. H. carved on the lid of the box. A tear slipped down her cheek as she fondled each f her son’s precious memoirs.

“Goodbye, Alex,” she whispered softly, stroking the smooth rock. “I’ll take care of your treasures, and I’ll see you again in heaven someday.”

The little girl next to her looked down into the box.” I hope he’s got better treasures in heaven than he left us down here.

~~~~~

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.

Matthew 6:19-20

Standing There Beside You

“No!” Priscilla screamed. Her chubby toddler fingers reached for the teddy bear in her mother’s hands. “I want it!”

“No, Priscilla,” her mother said firmly. “It’s time to put it away.”

Priscilla’s eyes filled with tears. “But I need him, Mommy!” she protested.

“Why do you need it?” her mother asked curiously.

“He keeps me safe at night,” Priscilla told her mother hesitatingly. “Without him I get scared.”

Priscilla’s mom sat on the edge of Priscilla’s bed. “You don’t need a teddy bear to keep you safe, Priscilla. All you need is Jesus.”

“Jesus? But he’s in heaven, right?”

Her mom smiled. “Jesus is everywhere, and he’s always with you.” She tapped the end of Priscilla’s nose, making her giggle. “When you’re scared, just think about Jesus and imagine him standing there beside you. He can conquer anything.”

Priscilla smiled. “Thanks, Mommy, I will.”

Priscilla fell asleep that night with a peaceful smile on her face.

Just Say Jesus

Hannah walked slowly down the hall. Her long dark brown hair fell like a sheet over her face. She clutched her stack of books to her chest, looking down at the floor to avoid making eye contact with anybody else. She made her way down the hall slowly as she avoided the small groups of students clustered by the lockers, who looked at her disdainfully. A foot casually slipped into her path. Hannah tried to avoid it, but it just moved farther into her path. She grimaced as she slammed into the hard floor, and a jeering face gazed down at her triumphantly from a spot next to the lockers. Taunting laughter surrounded Hannah as Brian Casten leaned over her, smirking. Hannah’s cheeks burned as she started to stand up. Another boy shoved her, causing her to tumble over again.

Tears filled Hannah’s eyes from the humiliation. “Please help me, Jesus,” she prayed in a whisper.

“Leave her alone,” a voice demanded. A hand reached through the crowd and helped Hannah to her feet. She looked into the familiar brown eyes of Martin Shaw, the high school’s star quarterback, and a fellow Christian. He smiled at Hannah. “You okay?” he asked.

Hannah nodded. “All I had to do was call out to Jesus, and he sent you to help me,” she told him. “I just said ‘Jesus’.”

~~~

Just call out for Jesus and He’ll save you.

Mysterious Helper

Anna took a deep breath of clean fall air as she strolled along the sidewalk. The traffic whizzed past to her left. Suddenly, Anna was thrown to the ground as someone shoved her off the sidewalk. She caught a glimpse of a tall lean figure before a delivery truck hurtled onto the sidewalk where she’d been walking. Anna instinctively leaped to her feet and jumped backwards. The truck hit a nearby tree with a loud crunch.

Anna looked around for the person who had moved her out of the oncoming truck’s path, but she didn’t see anyone. How weird, she thought.

The delivery truck’s driver got out of the car hurriedly and rushed over to Anna. “Are you okay?” he asked frantically.

“I’m fine,” Anna assured him.

The police arrived soon after to take a report of the crash, and Anna was allowed to leave. She continued on her way until she reached her friend Lucy’s house.

“Hi, Anna,” Lucy welcomed Anna in cheerfully. Anna immediately poured out her story to her friend, including her mysterious helper.

Lucy’s jaw dropped. “Do you know what time the crash happened?”

“Just after two,” Anna told her. She looked at her friend curiously.

Lucy was amazed. “Just before two, I felt God telling me to pray for your protection, and I did!”

Blessings

“Hello?” Carolynn called shyly.

The old lady looked up from her cup that had only a few jingling coins in the bottom. “Yes?” she croaked.

“Here,” Carolynn said. She handed the homeless woman a shopping bag stuffed full of groceries. “I thought you might be able to use these.” She’d gone into the store and bought them for the lady when she’d spotted her sitting outside of the store.

The lady grinned. Her teeth were surprisingly white. “Thank you, dearie.” Her voice croaked, but there was something new in it. “Bless her, Lord Jesus.”

From that day on, any time Carolynn was feeling down, she would spot a rainbow in the sky when no one else would see it.

~~~

 “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’

Matthew 25:40

Prodigal

I hope this song encourages you and touches your life… like it did for me. And another flash fiction…

Coming Home

The farmer studied the horizon, holding up his hand to block out the sun. His hand rested on the handle of the plow. His younger son had abandoned him weeks before, heading into the big city to find “adventure”. The farmer couldn’t help hoping that his son would come back to him.

Suddenly, he spotted a small figure in the distance, trudging towards the farmhouse. The farmer dropped the plow and raced to the farmhouse and down the driveway. The figure grew nearer until the farmer recognized him. He threw his arms around his son, pulling him close to his chest.

“Dad, I’m so sorry,” the son blurted, pulling away from his father. “I didn’t come back to be your son again. I want to work for you as a farmhand, not your son. I don’t even deserve to be called your son.”

The farmer wrapped his arms around his son again. “God brought you back to me. You won’t be treated like a farmhand; you’re my son.”

The Answer

“Please wake up, Betsy,” Alice whispered.

Alice gripped her sister’s hand as she listened to the heart monitor beep. She hadn’t slept in days while her sister was in the hospital, and her face was pale and drawn. Her sister’s white face looked so small on the pillow. Alice bowed her head in silent prayer.

“God, please, heal my sister,” she pleaded silently. “I need her so much. My parents told me when I was young that you listen to every prayer, and that you’ll answer. I know I haven’t been the most faithful,” she gulped back tears, “but I need you to heal Betsy.” Alice laid her head on the hospital bed, struggling to hold back tears. She drifted off to sleep, not noticing when the heart monitor’s beeping slowed and then, finally, stopped.

“Miss Alice?” a nurse asked softly, gently shaking Alice awake. Alice sat up, struggling to hold back a yawn. She looked down at her sister’s still figure. The hand she was still grasping was icy cold.

“I’m sorry, Miss Alice,” the nurse whispered sympathetically. “She-she died only a few minutes ago.

Later that day, Alice dragged her feet in through the autumn leaves that had fallen and covered the sidewalk. She looked up at the gray cloud-covered sky. A single raindrop fell and landed on the end of her nose. She wiped it away harshly.

“God, why didn’t you answer me? I asked you to heal Betsy, but you didn’t,” she whispered angrily.

A voice deep inside her soul whispered to her. I did answer. But I have something better in mind for both of you. Just trust Me.

~~~

For the Daily Post’s Weekly Writing Challenge. http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/09/16/writing-challenge-dialogue/