A Week Of Flash Fiction Prompts
Week 25
It's been a hot one this week! I hope you are staying cool and safe in this heat. I wish it could be a bit less hot, so I could enjoy my time outside more fully.
Writing is a grounding point. I can examine ideas and pursue thoughts that would be irrelevant without the ability to write. When writing, they all become possibilities.
Here are this week's stories/poems from prompts. I hope you enjoy them!
Please click the heart or leave a comment if you wish. I always appreciate your acknowledgement. It helps lift the spirits to know someone appreciates what I have written.
The following stackers are among those I regularly write to prompts they provide. Each is acknowledged in the story or poem. The list here is for you to explore their writing.
Microzine Behind Every Door Challenge
Tales of the Zeitgeist HOUSE OF HAIKU PROMPT:
Izzibella’s Substack: Drabble Time
Previous Weeks Of Flash Fiction Prompts can be read here:
https://billferguson.substack.com/s/flash-fiction-from-prompts
May You Live Long And Prosper.
Too Bad He Needed To Work
June 6 2025
Prompt by: THE FICTION DEALER: Wanderlust
Photo by:Michael Held (@michaelheld) | Unsplash Photo Community
His heart was never where his feet were. Moving through the daily grind Emerson longed for things in life that he thought would satisfy him. He worked hard to achieve his dreams but in the end found that they were still not enough to satisfy his mind.
One day he said enough is enough. Emerson boarded a plane and headed off to a place where he was able to explore old ideas. As he explored the world he could observe, feel and be at one with the things his heart never knew existed.
It’s too bad he needed to work.
Pandora
July 8 2025
THE FICTION DEALER:Microdosing Fiction - 100mg of a Pandora
Photo by Philip Oroni on Unsplash
Pandora shifted her thoughts from the box in the closet to the movie Avatar. While she had seen the movie she wasn’t sure how she felt about having the place in the movie called Pandora. It seemed that despite it being such a warm and welcoming place it had its share of troubles, much like the theories about her life. Since the first mention of that damn box she had been cursed, although her name meant all gifted or all giving.
Pandora wondered if James Cameron had a happy ending in mind for Pandora.
“That would be nice,” she thought.
Putting In The Garden
July 8 2025
Prompt by: Fantasy and Fellowship - Fiction by J. Louis: Survivor's Guilt
Photo by: Viktoriia Filipchenko - Unsplash Photo Community
I had finished raking over my grandfather's garden. His vegetable garden was a mainstay during the latter portion of his life. He grew enough potatoes and carrots to last my grandparents the whole winter.
“Here’s the line,” he said, handing it to me. “You take this end down to the far end of the garden. I will stay here with this one.” I had to chuckle as I had heard this every year I had worked with him. Because of his illness I took on more responsibility for making the garden happen.
“Now take the rake, and put the top end in the ground and pull it along the line. We will put carrot seeds in the groove”
I did as he suggested. When I finished I heard the same comment as I had every year. “You can't make a straight line? Let me have the rake.”
“Now that’s a line,” he said, eyeing his work. I smiled and nodded.
All these years later I still can’t make a straight line. Every year I smile as I plant my carrots.
More Apple Wine
July 8 2025
Gibberish: FFF - Artifactory: a patriotic apparition
Photo by Trnava University on Unsplash
The jug rose from the bench in defiance of gravity, gently tilted as if a mouth was waiting and drained its “contents.”
Shilpa stood in the artifacts room of the Smithsonian gaping at the apparition before her. It held out the jug for her to take hold of.
“More Apple Wine,” it said in a commanding voice.
Shilpa reached out nervously for the jug. Taking hold of it with shaking hands she set it down on the workbench. Without taking her eyes off the apparition she reached for a funnel and a larger jug. She inserted the funnel into the mouth of the apparition’s jug. She filled the jug with new thoughts of apple wine. Once full she pushed the jug across the workbench.
The apparition smiled as he downed the “Apple Wine.”
The Founding Father licked his lips. “Thank you,” he stated as he faded. The jug fell to the floor causing Shilpa to jump.
“I don’t know how to explain this,” she said to her boss as he quickly entered the room after hearing the crash.
“Start at the beginning.”
“The jug rose from the bench in defiance of gravity…..”
In God We Trust
June 9 2025
Writer pilgrim Substack: Writing Prompt 123: Prompt Station: Picture Prompt
“What else is new?” thought Chad when he read the carving on the lamppost. “Too many people are not happy about something.”
He turned and walked into the hardware store where he bought a paint brush and a can of gold paint. After wishing the shop keeper to have an amazing day he exited the store.
Chad stood looking at the lamppost message for quite a while before he opened the paint tin and got to work. Before too long he stood back and admired his addition to the lamppost,
“In God We Trust,”
before turning and whistling his way down the street.
A Pod Of Haiku
July 9 2025
Prompt by: Tales of the Zeitgeist:HOUSE OF HAIKU PROMPT: SWIMMING
Deep water problem
Couldn’t see it coming near
Swimming for my life
Some say it’s swimming
Standing in shallow water
Holding a cold beer
Beach bods of all kinds
Not worrying how they look
Enjoying warm waves
Office politics
Keeps rearing its ugly head
Swimming for my life
Wanderlust
June 10 2025
THE FICTION DEALER: Poetry Trip - Homecoming: 100 words on the word Wanderlust!
Photo by Nils Nedel on Unsplash
The rumble of the engines stirred the night. He could feel a diversion coming on. As much as he liked sleeping beside lakes or on mountain sides, something was nagging at him. As he worked at his last “job” families were sitting around tables. Faces and places started merging so he packed up and moved on.
Standing on the sidewalk in the rain he looked at the house he had left years before. Would they accept him, he wondered.
He knocked on the door. Slowly it opened. “Dad!” cried his 18 year old daughter as she rushed to hug him.
Coming Home
June 10 2025
THE FICTION DEALER: Poetry Trip - Homecoming: 100 words on the word Wanderlust!
Photo by Nils Nedel on Unsplash
A lake side rest. A trip through a town to see the sights. A few nights avoiding grizzly bears on a mountain. Earning a few dollars here and there using his skills. Jim had seen and done many things during his time on the road. Once he would have been considered a hobo. In essence he was homeless but he was happy seeing the things he wanted to see. Still…
He dialled the number he knew from memory. No answer so he left a message. “Hi honey. It’s Dad. I am passing through soon and would like to visit you.”
1492 Columbus BVLD
July 11 2025
Prompt by: Stop Writing Alone: JULY 2025 Let's Write Together: After a long night of work, a pizza delivery person orders takeout food and discovers the person that is delivering his food is… himself. How is thisStop Writing Alone possible? What happens next?
Photo by: cottonbro studio - Photography
“Mobile food delivery,” intoned the voice over the speaker.
“Come on up” I stopped for a second and pondered. “That voice sounds familiar.” Soon there was a knock at the door. I reached the door and opened it, “Whoa!” I said.
“What?” asked the guy at the door as he handed me my food.
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “It’s been a long day.”
“Everything okay,” he asked.
“You don’t see it do you?”
“See what?”
“Okay,” I thought. “He definitely doesn’t see it.”
“It must be the end of your shift,” I said, trying hard to think of the right conversation.
“How did you know that?”
“I deliver pizzas. I know the score. Would you like to come in for a beer? I’m sure you have earned it.”
“Right now that sounds amazing,” the delivery guy said as he walked in the door. “Something about you seems familiar.”
He stood looking at the mirror my grandfather had made many years ago. “I have one just like this,” he stated as he looked more closely at it. “My grandfather made it many years ago. I didn’t know he made two.” I walked in and stood beside him looking into the mirror. “Whoa," he said. “Doppelgangers. Cool.”
Doppelgangers? I wondered
He wandered around the apartment. “Hey, I like your record collection,” he said as he fingered the oldies but goodies. “I have this one and this one and…” as he scanned the 100 or so essentials, “Well, I’ll be damned, all of them.” He looked up in wonder as I smiled. “We look the same, have the same family mirror, we have exactly the same record collection.” he took a good look around the room, “and the same furniture and tastes it seems.
“Freaky isn’t it,” I replied.
“I live at 1492 Columbus Blvd. and this is 1492 Columbus Blvd. My building doesn’t look like this though.”
At last,” I thought. “Something different.”
“What does your building look like?”
He looked at me. “This is a palace compared to my building. It is two stories and kinda run down. It still has the milk doors beside the door.”
“I just moved in last year. It’s a new building. Anything else?”
He looked out the window. “Well, the streets are the same but just more built up.” He paused in thought. “What year is it?”
“2025,” I replied.
He looked stunned.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s not 2018?” he asked.
“Not anymore. Wait, are we having a back to the future moment?” I wondered out loud.
“Space time continuum? We are still intact.”
“Maybe they were wrong," I mused.
“I should be going,” he stated. “Olivia is waiting for me to come home.”
“Oooh,” I started before I caught myself.
“What?”
“About Olivia…..”
“What? You know her?” he asked as he stood by the door.
“If you are me and I am you then yes, I know her.” I reflected on today’s date. “Just take care,” I added.
He looked at me puzzled. “It’s okay,” he smiled. I think I see it coming.” He turned to leave and then turned back quickly. “If I can’t find my way back to 2018…”
“Somehow I think you will but if the worst case scenario happens then we can pretend we are twins.”
He laughed and waved as he exited.
“Olivia. Ouch. That still hurts,” I thought as I opened the take out meal and dug in.
Mercy!
July 11 2025
Prompt by: Gibberish: FFF - Mercy: Write about a new discovery
Photo by: Pelayo Arbués (@pelayoarbues) | Unsplash Photo Community
I turn the volume up, way up.
Du du du du du
The guitar rumbles on until the drums start pounding. And then the voice starts, “Pretty Woman,”
I hear a loud noise behind closed doors down the hall, almost a sense of panic. The door flings open and a pair of feet stride down the hall with some urgency.
“What is that?” my teenage daughter asks with that sense of wonder in her voice.
“That is one of the greatest singers ever to sing a rock song,” I reply.
She gives me one of those deadpan looks.
“Roy Orbison. Pretty Woman. It has an interesting story behind it.”
“Shh,” she says as she points a finger at me. My daughter, a small teenage rebel, listens carefully to the whole song. “Can you play it again?” she asks. "And again," she asks for the third and fourth time.
“That is utterly brilliant,” she smiles as she starts to sing along. “How come I have never heard this before?”
“1964, oldies stations, 16 years old. Take your pick.”
She frowns and wanders off still singing loudly. “Pretty woman…”
I am always amazed when something reaches her like this does. Good music is always good music.
“Maybe I will like Flowers once it stops being overplayed. Who knows,” I sigh.
Columbus 1492 Boulevard was especially eery and fun!
The Pretty Woman one was so relatable.
The planting of the carrots in a straight row so real.
I enjoyed them all, as I usually do! Thanks!
What an enjoyable read.... my fave today was planting the carrots...great photo, too.