Valentine Flash Fiction #6: Happy Valentine’s Day!

Prompt:Holding hands, cherish.

Word count:250.

Today’s challenge is a little different. I decided to combine all of my previous prompts and write something romantic instead of dark! See if you can find all of my previous prompts:
Holding hands, cherish, promises, candlelit, lifetime, heart, roses, kiss, chocolate, love, romance.

Candlelit Dinner — Image from dreamstime.com.

Lionel extended his hand over the candlelit table top, lavishly spread with chocolates and roses, and took Wendy’s hand. She shivered in anticipation as she met his loving gaze.

“Wendy, my love,” Lionel started, then hesitated. His heart thundered in his chest and he swallowed nervously. “We’ve been together for two years now…”

Wendy nodded, silently encouraging him. Her plunging red dress, the most expensive garment in her wardrobe, was out on its debut. Her hair was freshly washed and coifed, her make-up impeccable, and she’d even visited a manicurist for the first time in her life. After all, this was the most important night of her life. She needed a perfect canvas to present to her man.

“And in those two years we’ve become extraordinarily close…”

She nodded again. Lionel briefly squeezed her hand.

“I guess what I mean to say is, that if you’ll have me, I promise to give you a lifetime of happiness. I will cherish each and every moment with you. Wendy, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

Wendy swallowed the girlish squeal threatening to escape her throat as Lionel produced a small plain black box and presented it to her. She gingerly opened it – and there, nestled on the satin, was an enormous diamond engagement ring.

What else could she say to an evening filled with romance?

“Of course I’ll marry you,” she said to Lionel. They sealed the bond with a kiss.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Valentine Flash Fiction #5: Cave of Wonders

Prompt: promises, candlelit.

Word count: 250.

I just can’t stop writing horrible stuff. I almost don’t want to post this. It’s inspired by Enid Blyton’s children’s stories…

Two children break the rules in this pre-War era tale…

Image from dreamstime.com.

Betsy lifted the candle on its tray higher, letting its light wash over the cavern. Beside her, Jack squinted in the gloom as the dust swirled and settled. Only a few moments ago they had been squashed together in an alcove, taking shelter as the old mine collapsed. Betsy had burnt her hand sheltering the candle, but she didn’t cry. Big girls don’t cry: besides, it was her idea to explore the old mine. Jack had wanted to play Cowboys and Indians down by the creek again.

“Show me your hand,” Jack said, turning to her. Betsy obliged, and Jack tore off the bottom of his stripey T-shirt to gently wrap the burn.

“There’s no way out, I don’t think,” Betsy whimpered. The candle has already burnt most of the way down as they were exploring. They only had a few minutes of candlelight left – if that.

“Someone will come for us,” Jack said, putting his arm around her in a manner that would normally be considered overly familiar. They were, after all, next-door neighbours and playful rivals. How else were you meant to treat the boy and girl next door?

“No one knows we’re here,” Betsy said. She watched as the light flickered over Jack’s face. “We’re not supposed to come here.”

“I’ll look after you,” Jack said.

“Do you promise?” she asked in a small voice.

“Yes, I promise,” he answered, as the light guttered and went out, plunging them into darkness as the earth swallowed them whole.

Valentine Flash Fiction #4: A Devil’s Deal

Prompt: lifetime, heart.

Word count: 150.

I think I naturally gravitate towards the macabre.

One woman’s insults gets on the nerve of a rather peculiar businessman.

Image from dreamstime.com.

“I don’t know why you keep calling me heartless,” Sir said. “I have a heart. It’s right there on my desk.”

A shot of fear lanced down Marjorie’s spine. Her knees knocked together so hard she was surprised the impeccably dressed man behind the large oak desk didn’t hear. She mentally kicked herself. Of course he wouldn’t respond well to that particular insult: rumour had it Sir’s incredible charisma and influential personality had been gained only by removing said heart in a deal made with the Devil.

“In fact,” Sir said patiently with a deceiving smile, “I’ve had it for quite some time.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean…”

“No, of course not.” Sir waved his hand, removing a knife from the drawer in his desk. “But you seem to know a lot about how people should feel on particular issues. Maybe it’s time I got a new heart.”

Valentine Flash Fiction #3: Kissed By A Rose

Prompt: roses, kiss.

Word count: 250.

This one is a little different. With those prompts I decided to be inspired by Seal’s 1994 hit song ‘Kissed By A Rose’.

There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea.
You became the light on the dark side of me.

Mitch had been alone for thirty years, manning the lighthouse up at Dead Man’s Point every night without fail. Every evening before the sun sank from sight he’d climb the winding staircases – becoming a greater effort as the years wore on – clean the giant mirrors, and lit the fire that reflected and shone as a warning beacon to the ships that passed by – mostly ore ships, and less of them as the years went on (the mines were closing). On foggy nights he stayed awake with hot coffee in a thermos and a blanket, manning the foghorn.

Every night in the blinking light he thought about Katarina.

He’d planted a dozen red rose bushes for her birthday the year she disappeared. He tended to the bushes every morning, just as the sun came up and before he went to bed. There was only one bush left now – the others had succumbed to the cold and the wind, the loneliness of the tall peak and its single grey tower.

The rumours at the small village he visited monthly for supplies sometimes reached his ears. The wailing wind that spread through the rocky tors was the final scream of a woman who had thrown herself off the high cliffs, unable to take the isolation any more. Some people thought she’d turned into a seagull for the freedom she longed for and was denied. Some people whispered that Mitch was responsible for her disappearance.

It should have been called Dead Woman’s Point.

PS – I like this one so much I might turn it into a whole story one day.

Valentine Flash Fiction #2: After The Break Up

Prompt: chocolate, heart.

Word count: 300.

I turned it into a chocolate heart – and I never said my Valentine shorts were going to be Valentine-ey! Also, I have no idea what is up with both of them being ‘After the’ so far… maybe I’ll turn it into a theme?

Did Mina make the right choice breaking up with Richard?

After The Break Up

Mina wiped her eyes and vowed never to fall in love again. Not after Richard’s blatant disregard for her feelings, his careless attitude towards her friends, and his constant pressuring to get married as soon as possible and have children.

She was far too young to get married! She was twenty-three, had a bright career ahead of her at the art gallery, and wasn’t about to quit to become an older man’s trophy wife.

If only he understood. Instead, he imagined that if he showered her with enough gifts she’s acquiesce to his demands, become pliable in his hands like putty. Mina knew she was stronger than that!

She blew her nose and crept up the stairs to her bedroom, remembering the time when she was off work sick with pneumonia for three weeks. Every day Richard had visited, bringing a different kind of sweet every day. She’d built quite a little collection, which over the past few days she had devoured in utter misery. Now there was only one piece left. A little chocolate heart. One small reminder of her connection to Richard – the only thing in her apartment.

Once Mina went back to work, Richard had suggested they move in together. That was the beginning of Mina’s resistance. She had grown more and more miserable as the date approached, for of course she had said yes. She didn’t want to leave her nice cozy apartment, a ten minute walk from her art gallery in the city. She didn’t want to leave her favourite coffee shop, her dry cleaner’s, her friends and family, to move out to the suburbs with Richard.

She only wanted to forget him. There was one thing left in her apartment that reminded her of him.

She approached the little chocolate heart and unwrapped it…