One thing I’ve come to love is writing flash fiction. Not only does it help to get the creativity flowing, in case I’m struggling with that, but it helps to keep me writing. Sometimes I just don’t feel like writing, or I’m too busy doing something else concerning my books. Writing flash fiction makes me keep up with writing. I like that little push, that motivator to keep me going. In case you didn’t know where I always got my prompt from to write the flashes, I started writing flash fiction with the lovely group Love Indie Romance. I’ve had tons of fun joining them with weekly flashes, but I’m going to be changing it up some.
Last weekend was Mother’s Day. And what a beautiful day it was. My kids made that day so special for me, although, they make each day pretty special in some way. My oldest daughter (she’s seven) made me a special book filled with things she loved about me and a few other wonderful words. The one thing that really stuck out and filled my heart with so much love was some things she said about my writing. She knows I write. (I am on my computer a lot. lol) But what she said really made me see how proud she is of me. I thought it would be really fun to have her help me with my prompts. When I asked her if she’d give me a short sentence so I could write a story with it, the smile she gave me was so precious. *heart beats madly with love*
So, I’ll be enlisting the help of my daughters (Because I imagine my four year would love to help as well. *wink*) for my weekly prompts. I like them to know what I do, how I do it, and that this is my job. A job I love doing every single day. And when she gets just as excited to help me out, I know it’s going to be so much fun!
Here on out, my flashes will be on Friday’s. As you can see from my little quote above, it’ll be: A dose of love…Flash Fiction Friday. Because you know me, I love the love and you’ll always get a happy ending with me…even in my flashes!
Here’s the first prompt she provided. She surprised me with a hard one right off the bat. Love it!
Prompt: Sadness is sad.
Isabella tried to walk as steadily as she could into her house. She didn’t need Bo’s arms around her anymore. That certainly didn’t mean she would be opposed to it. It just wasn’t a good idea.
Since they left the precinct, Bo’s insistence on driving her home, not much had been said. They talked about both of her visions, unable to gain any further information from them. She never had visions this close together. Her body was draining. Sleep sounded like the best idea. If only Bo wasn’t following her inside.
Sitting gingerly on the couch, she rested her head against the cushion. She wanted to close her eyes, but there was no way she could while Bo was in her house. Time to have a conversation she didn’t want to have. She really needed to close her eyes. Instead, she chanced a quick glance to him, where he stood not far from her.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“Nothing right now.” Without warning, he stepped closer and scooped her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” She almost hated how wonderful it felt to be in his arms as he headed for her bedroom. It’s not like this would last.
“You’re exhausted. You can barely keep your eyes open. Have you ever had two visions so close together?” He gently laid her on the bed.
She swore she could see the love shining within the depths of his eyes. Impossible.
His hand grazed her cheek delicately. “Isabella?”
“No. Everything…it’s never happened before.
His hand swept across her cheek again. Softly. Slowly. “Sadness is sad.” His eyes pierced her with a look she couldn’t describe.
“What?” He had to stop looking at her like that. It unnerved her. “You’re confusing me, Bo.”
“I don’t like it when you look sad. I want…I need some happiness in my life.”
She tucked the covers around her, avoiding eye contact. Every time she met his gaze, she saw a new emotion she didn’t think ever existed between them. His words were making no sense. One thing she could always count on with Bo was his honesty. She felt like he was talking in circles and avoiding the truth.
“Your life seems just fine.”
She had no choice but to look into his eyes when he grabbed her cheeks and forced her to. They glittered with an intense emotion that would’ve knocked her on her ass if she hadn’t been lying down.
“Nothing’s been fine since you left. You think you have it all figured out. You thought back then you knew what I was feeling. What I was thinking. You never had a clue. Still don’t. For a psychic, you suck at reading me.”
Tiny tremors combed her body. A mixture of terror and pleasure. “I don’t read minds.”
His lips slammed down onto hers. His tongue dove in, her welcoming it with ease. She missed this. Missed him. She had no idea what he was talking about, considering she couldn’t read minds at all, but she’d take what he was offering right now.
Just as quickly, he pulled away, their heavy breathing the only sounds. He looked pissed, yet the desire glimmered in his eyes as well.
“Do you ever listen to me?”
“I am. I always did.”
He leaned closer. She prayed his lips would connect with hers once again. “You never did. If you ever listened, for even a moment, you would’ve never left.”
“Stop talking in riddles.” His face turned hard as granite. She knew she was just asking for him to blow up. Talking things out wasn’t her forte. He might have a slight point that she didn’t listen well. Walking away was always an easier solution. But he was wrong. She never heard anything back then that would’ve had her sticking around. Her ears were wide open waiting for him to stop her and he never did. So his words right now were clear as mud. As fast as his anger imploded on his face, it disappeared. Like a kite losing its string high in the sky.
“Rest. You need it. Then we’ll talk.” His lips closed the distance. A soft sigh floated out. “To make it as clearly as I can, I’ve always loved you. But my love never seemed to be enough for you.”
He stood up quickly without waiting for a response and walked out, closing the door.
Well, that was the last thing she ever expected to hear. His words were still confusing the hell out of her. Maybe she was still out of it. Maybe she didn’t really hear him say what she always wanted to hear from him. That had to be it. She was hallucinating. The lack of energy was creating things that weren’t real.
Was Bo even real? Did she really leave the house, leave the bed from her first vision? Was she still stuck in a horrible vision?
He couldn’t love her. She would’ve never walked away from his love.
She closed her eyes. Blackness descended immediately.