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


Friday Flash Fiction


Picture courtesy of Dave Stewart       

The gazebo, the band, the nostalgic feel – all made me think of this song. And this song made me think of my mom. This is the result.

Word count: 100

Sweet Dreams

“Sweet dreams ‘til sunbeams find you…” Ellen sang as she worked. “Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you…”

Walking into the kitchen, Oliver smiled at her.

“What are you smiling at?” Ellen reddened, suddenly embarrassed.

“I love hearing you sing. You know all the old songs by heart.” Oliver brushed a curl back from her forehead.

“It keeps my mom alive. Her songs are mine now.”

“But in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.”

Ellen danced around the floor with the broom, hearing her mother’s voice echoing from the past, lost in her own sweet dream.

© Erin Leary

To see other Friday Fictioneers, please visit here.

Flash Friday Fiction


Photo by Doug McIlroy

Koi are a long lived variety of carp that have become symbols of love and friendship in Japan.  These fish, which can live for up to 30 years (though one famous koi was believed to have lived for over 200) are kept in ponds for their beauty and decorative purposes.      Yamabushi are Japanese mountain ascetic hermits with a long tradition, endowed with supernatural powers in traditional Japanese mysticism

<– Kanji symbol for carp or koi

Word Count: 100

Homonym for Love

I sat by the pond where a lone koi swam up to the surface and scoped me out with a single fisheye. Wisdom, or something like it, flickered in the black orb – a knowing of things I couldn’t yet name.

Something familiar in this one, swimming in lazy circles, reminding me of someone.

Rumors swirled in this part of Japan of the yamabushi who changed lost souls into koi. Sitting by the pond, I knew why this one seemed to know me.  Lost no more, I called his name.


A quiet splash in response, saying all he could not.


Please check out the links to all the other Flash Friday Fictioneers, which can be found here.

© Erin Leary

Flash Friday Fiction


Something about this picture reminded me of a post-apocalyptic vision.  My entry feels a little BSG to me (that’s Battlestar Galactica, for the uninitiated) but it’s what came to mind first and I usually can’t talk myself out of first impression.

Word Count: 100

Give me your tired

The small flotilla chugged forward, precious fuel approaching empty.  The horizon glimmered ahead, growing from a thin dark line to recognizable shapes: a port, a beacon, a herald. 

War rumbled in their memory, the sudden destruction of their old world.  Like voyagers in years gone by, they approached the shore to explore anew.  What awaited them could only be imagined. 

Huddled near the counter, the faint ticking of radiation emitted a warning; a reminder that despite familiarity, nothing was the same. Pressing on, following a primal desire to be free, over a sea laced with silver and sadness.  Land beckoned.

Please check out the links to all the other Flash Friday Fictioneers, which can be found here.

© Erin Leary

Flash Friday Fiction

icon-grill-ted-strutzPicture courtesy of Ted Strutz

I worked in a personal theme this week.  For more information, see my post from last week here.  For those of you who might wonder, Warner’s Safe Kidney & Liver Cure was a real thing.  In fact, the bottle it was in are collectible today, priced about $200 on eBay.  If they were full, I just might consider it.

Word Count: 104

Good for what ails you

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

Sizing him up as the next drunk she’d serve that night, Gloria arched her brow. “Help you?”

“Yes’m.  I’m in dire need. Got any Warner’s Liver Cure?”

“What’re you talking about?” The stink on him was strong.

“Brown bottle.  Everyone knows Warner’s.”  His yellow eyes implored her to try.

“Alright – no promises.” Sighing, she turned, looking at the highest shelf.  Dusty, forgotten, a brown bottle winked at her. “This it?”

“Amen! Cured at last.”

Reaching for it, he was gone, mist marking his spot. 

Amazed, Gloria went back to wiping the bar.  Couldn’t even try to make sense of that one.

Please check out the links to all the other Flash Friday Fictioneers, which can be found here.

© Erin Leary

Flash Friday Fiction

It took looking at this picture awhile before I could see what was going on.  It reminded me of some of the obscure art installations I’ve seen while traveling.

Picture copyright-David Stewart

Word Count: 90


Skipping Stones

– I feel like that sometimes.

– Like what?

– That sculpture thing there – the legs in the pavement, the guy jumping out.

– What are you talking about?

– When I travel – I feel like I jump through the earth and pop up in some new place.  I feel disoriented, fragmented, not quite myself.

– You come up with the strangest thoughts.  By the way, where are we again?  

– I don’t know – check your itinerary.  Somewhere in Japan, I think.

– Huh.  Right.  Day 5.  Look at that temple!

Please check out the links to all the other Flash Friday Fictioneers, which can be found here.

© Erin Leary