Here is a sample from The Stable Boy:
He came walking across the field in his tight blue jeans, dark brown boots, beige plaid shirt, and dark brown cowboy hat. He was walking my unruly colt by a lead rope with ease. The colt had broken the fence and ran off. He found him. How he got the horse calmed down was a mystery to me. I could not get that horse to walk on a lead rope. He reached my door. I stepped out from behind the screen door.
"Ma'am, I believe he is yours," he said with a slight southern drawl.
"Yes, he is. Thank you for bringing him back," I said, taking all of him in. He had ice blue eyes, a five o'clock shadow, and broad shoulders. His tight shirt showed off his muscular arms and tight torso. "How did you know he was mine?"
"I pass by your house sometimes in morning on the way to the Everett farm," he said. "I work there when they need an extra hand."
"Thank you for bringing him back. Can you please put him in the paddock with the other horses?"
"Sure can," he replied. "Do you need help fixing the fence?"
"Thank you, I would really appreciate it."
"Be happy to help. If you don't mind, I'd like to take a look around the farm and help you out in anyway I can. It does not seem that you have much help around here," he said, as he looked me up and down.
I was wearing my blue jeans and white t-shirt. My long, chestnut brown hair was pulled back into a pony tail.
"Unfortunately, I do not. I had a farm hand, but he got married recently and they moved out west. I don't have enough money to hire someone else."
"That is a real shame. This is a nice farm. I will work for you for the price of a home cooked meal."
"I think I can oblige you. Thank you. After you put him in the paddock, why don't you come in for some sweet tea? It is quite hot out there."
"Thank you, I appreciate the offer, but I would prefer to get started on fixing that fence."
"Okay, but let me ask you how you got him to walk with you on that lead rope? He will not take to me doing it."
"I have a way with horses. They seem to like me. C'mon boy, let's go this way," he said as he turned to walk away. That is when I got a real good look at just how tight his jeans really were. A shudder ran down my spine.
A short called Sara's Way:
It was Halloween night when one sleepy little neighborhood went from being quite and peaceful to disturbed. Sara was 12 years old that fall. It was going to be her first Halloween she got to walk the neighborhood with her friends. She could not wait. After dinner, she put her costume on. She was going as Bat Girl. She donned the black outfit with her cape and mask. Her three friends showed up just as she ran down the stairs.
“Sara, take a jacket with you,” her mother said.
“Aw, but mom,” Sara whined.
“It is going to get cold out and you just got over a cold.You don’t need another.”
“Okay,” Sara said. She put her jacket on. She left the house after giving her mother a brief hug. Walking along through the neighborhood the kids stopped at every house with a light on.
“Let’s go to the next neighborhood,” said Heather. “I heard they give out better candy than what we get here.”
“Okay,” said Sara. They cut through the woods to the next neighborhood. Hitting as many houses as they could before the rain began to fall.The girls ran back through the woods. Sara dropped her pillowcase of candy. She stopped to pick it up, falling behind. When she looked up, her friends were gone. Sara walked along the woods. She came to a tree she thought she saw before. She kept walking until she reached a clearing. She did not remember the clearing before. She began to panic. She saw a light up in the distance. She walked toward it, passing by an oak tree where he was waiting for her. She only got a few more feet before two strong arms grabbed her from behind. One hand went over her mouth to stifle her scream, the other arm around her waist lifting her off the ground. Again, she dropped her pillowcase of candy. The man carried her to the house. Opening the screen door with his foot, he carried her inside. Taking her to the back room by the kitchen, he tied her to the bedpost. Sara struggled, trying her best to get away. She kicked at him and screamed. No one could hear her. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife. He came back with a grin across his chapped lips, revealing gnarled, and blackened teeth. He sliced off her costume and into her stomach, pulling out her intestines. Sara screamed at the beginning, but stopped after only a few seconds. He like the sounds of their screams.
When she did not come home, her mother went looking for her. Her friends could not remember her following them home. A search party was formed. They found Sara’s mangled, cutup body in the clearing of the woods. A cross was put there in her memory. That clearing is now known as Sara’s Way. They never found the man who mutilated her. It is said he still lives in that town. Children of that neighborhood are warned to never go into Sara’s Way.
A Short called The Shattered Mirror:
She lived alone in apartment 3c. It was a small quaint place that she decorated herself. It consisted of 2 rooms. An open spaced living room, dining room and kitchen and a bedroom with an attached bathroom. It was not in the best part of the city, but she felt safe there. She lived in an artsy neighborhood. She loved the eccentric people that she was surrounded by. She could step outside her door and see a street performance taking place or find someone painting a portrait on the street. There were singers who would walk the street, gathering crowds wherever they went.
She would purchase paintings from the local artist to decorate her apartment. She had found one painting that she fell completely in love with the moment she saw it. It was a fall scene. It reminded her of her childhood in the country. Living in the city, she did not see the colors of fall anymore. She had placed the painting behind the couch on the east facing wall of her apartment. Across from the painting was a mirror. She placed the mirror there so she could see the painting even when she was not looking directly at it. It was not until she sat down on the couch after a long day at work that she noticed the shattered mirror.
There were two questions that came to her mind. Was she alone in her tiny apartment and how fast could she make it to the door?
A short called The Dive:
While I may not have won the flash fiction contest I entered. I am still very proud of my story. We are given a prompt, aka a painting or picture to get inspiration from. Here is what I wrote:
Carolina had been on 50 dives. To her, solo dives where more exciting. Diving off the coast of Florida allowed her to see so many wonders. The beautiful, rusty, orange coral peeking up through the floor of the crystal, blue waters and the many different colors of fish swimming all around her always gave her joy. She found a cave and began to explore it.
There was a small opening in the cave above her. She could see the water above with bright white of the sky. A shadow passed overhead.
Curiosity and fear took over. She was afraid the shadow may have been a shark. What she found was something completely different. A boat of pirates had stopped just past where the cave was. She could see them diving one by one into the ocean and headed her way. She swam back toward the cave, swimming deeper into the confines of the cave than she had before. She came upon what she believed the pirates were after. There was jewelry hidden in the cave. She heard their approach. There was only one way in or out of the cave. Panic set in. She tried to hide in the shadow of the water. One of the men had an underwater light. He shined it around the cave, spotting her. One of the men swam toward her. Her back was against the wall. She kicked and flailed her arms wildly. He smashed her head against the back wall. All went dark.