Friday Flash Fiction

Photo courtesy of Ted Strutz

Flash Fiction, week two. It took a while for inspiration to strike, but it did. Thanks, Ted!!

Word count: 100

Stairway to Heaven

“Mommy – look! angels!”

I looked around, used to trying to find obscure characters in the daily minutiae that was my life as a stay at home mom.

“Angels, honey? I don’t see any angels. You know, they have wings and halos…”

“ But look – they are going up the escalator to see God!”

“ Oh – so they are. I see them. But I think it might be a choir, sweetie. They are singers, not angels.”

“But mom, you’ve got to believe.”

Thinking about my current state of mind, I realized my son was not wrong. I looked again with new eyes, looking for the divine.

I’d take angels any day over handmaidens.

Copyright Erin Leary 2020

Friday Flash Fiction

Photo prompt courtesy of Dale Rogerson

A complete story, using only100 words. I am out of practice, but I want to start exercising my writing skills again.

Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff -Fields for hosting this group! Looking forward to reading this week’s entries!

Word count: 99

Serenity Blues

High above the city, the world glimmered far below. This apartment seemed like a great place to heal, but now felt like a prison. Ice and snow only enhanced her isolation.

Sighing, she turned from the window and vowed that tomorrow, she’d venture out. Maybe she’d make a snowball and remember what it was like to be alive.

The sun would rise, the world would turn, and spring would return. Her memories would fade like bruises, the damaged places mending eventually, leaving open the possibility of renewal.

Closing her eyes, she uttered the familiar prayer “God grant me…”

– Erin Leary


Angry Words

Since I wrote this in 2012, 29 more mass shootings have occurred, leaving about 250 people dead and wounding almost 700. These numbers are staggering – if you want to be staggered like I was, please visit Mother Jones’ Mass Shooting tracking site here:

This is madness. Nothing more. Today, the US lawmakers are voting on a Hearing Protection act (HR 367) which will make silencers easier to obtain. This is the ONLY substantive gun legislation that has been proposed this year. And that will serve to make mass shooting easier. Most of the survivors of today’s shooting mentioned they heard the sounds of shots first, which made them dive for cover. We will take that warning away with silencers.

But go ahead, NRA – you bought this batch of GOP morons. The lot of them do nothing about each incident except to say not to politicize the tragedy. If we don’t do that now, when will we? Nothing changes and nothing will get better by continuing on this path.

The time has long since passed to do the right thing. We now have to accept that we allow people to kill others because we care more about gun rights than we do our neighbors.

I’m appalled, I’m angry, and I’m out of patience.


I took the afternoon off to bake cookies for an annual cookie exchange in the neighborhood yesterday.  I worked until about noon and then sat down to lunch before rolling up my sleeves to get busy.  I scanned the headlines while I ate and realized that something bad had happened in Newtown, Connecticut.  As I read more, I felt sick.  Then I felt angry – really, really angry.  It surprised me how strongly I reacted, but then I went back through all the times I have had this same feeling of being sickened by tragedies caused by guns and I know why I’m so pissed off.  It’s because it’s still happening.

I reflected on the all that I’ve done in the past – the times that I have advocated for better gun control laws, for awareness, for legislation.  I’ve supported the Brady Campaign since its inception.  All of this in…

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Friday Flash Fiction

Photo courtesy of Kent Bonham

The picture is a snapshot of life, a snippet of a street where people live their lives and change creeps in gradually. I set my story in Israel, although I’m not sure this is where the picture is from. I tried to see things through Marian’s eyes, dimmed a little by time, but full of joy nonetheless.

Word count: 100

Garlic and Joy

Nothing looked as it used to. Marian adjusted her shopping bags as she shuffled toward home. Her world was being replaced little by little; in her mind, the town was held in time. Words assaulted her eyes – signs for everything, some offering products she’d never heard of.

Garlic wafted by on the warm evening breeze, reminding her of their newly married days – shopping for Ayal, cooking their dinner, the bliss of their early times together. Shifting her bags again to relieve the pain in her shoulders, Marian smiled, her joyful memories held safe from time’s changes in her heart.

To see other stories, please visit the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields site here.

A chat between two writers

Two of our Friday Fiction group, both with new books coming out. Cheers to them!

Claire Fuller

Last week I had an online chat with Helena Hann-Basquiat a Canadian writer, about our recent and forthcoming publications.

My novel Our Endless Numbered Days, has already received positive reviews in the national press, and Helena currently has a Pubslush campaign taking pre-orders for Memoirs of a Dilettante Volume Two, and is also publishing a Shakespearean-style play, a tragi-comedy called Penelope, Countess of Arcadia. 

Overheard over coffee at Helena’s…

The one, the only Helena Hann-Basquiat, everyone's favorite dilettante

I’ve just grabbed a coffee, are you sitting comfortably?

Claire Fuller Colour


The one, the only Helena Hann-Basquiat, everyone's favorite dilettante

Well, Claire, I guess to start off, I should say that I really only know you from Friday Fictioneers, but that I’ve already a respect for your writing. I can’t recall how long ago you announced that Our Endless Numbered Days was being published, but I recall being excited. How long a journey has this been for you?

Claire Fuller Colour

The book sold in the UK and Canada nineteen months ago…

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