They grew tired of the dark and decided to move out.

The members of the first expedition didn’t survive. They didn’t know how to catch food in the outside bright world. A few members were able to report back, but died shortly after.

They needed an adaptation strategy.

They thought of different possibilities, but it was no use. All they knew was to glow and grow.
Glow a beautiful light to attract prey and grow webs to catch them.
But how to do that on a world already full of light?

Then they had the idea of disguise as art…

This post was written in response to the Friday Fictioneers of January 5th 2018.

The photo prompt is courtesy of Roger Bultot.

To see more entries inspired by the picture, click the blue frog below:

When looking closely at the picture, seeing that each tube had different sizes, the image came to my mind of the glowworms that exist in the depths of some caves in Australia, and decided to write about them.

Image cropped from original, that has a CC license with attribution: By No machine-readable author provided. Markrosenrosen assumed (based on copyright claims). [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC BY-SA 4.0-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

As per Wikipedia:

Fungus gnats[edit]

Three genera of fungus gnats are bioluminescent, and known as “glowworms” in their larval stage. They produce a blue-green light.[1] The larvae spin sticky webs to catch food. They are found in caves, overhangs, rock cavities, and other sheltered, wet areas. They are usually classified under the family Keroplatidae, but this is not universally accepted and some authors place them under Mycetophilidae instead. Despite the similarities in function and appearance, the bioluminescent systems of the three genera are not homologous and are believed to have evolved separately.[2][3][4]

Genus Arachnocampa – around five species found only in New Zealand and Australia. The most well-known member of the genus is the New Zealand glowworm, Arachnocampa luminosa. The larvae are predatory and use their lights to lure prey into their webs.[5]

Genus Orfelia – sometimes known as “dismalites”. Contains a single species, Orfelia fultoni, found only in North America. Like Arachnocampa spp., their larvae are predatory and use their lights to attract prey.

Genus Keroplatus, – found in Eurasia. Unlike Arachnocampa and Orfelia, the larvae of Keroplatus feed on fungi spores.[6]Their bioluminescence is believed to have no function and is vestigial.[2]


Feeling it

Since she was a little child, she enjoyed feeling the wind hit her face. Any breeze or stronger wind, she’d run outside, stretch her arms and open up her chest in order to feel the moving air touching her skin, making her hair dance, cleansing her.

Then one day, out of a sudden she realized she couldn’t feel it anymore. How this could be happening?

She decided to put up wind mills, and turbines, and chimes. She was desperate, so she kept adding stuff in her backyard that could help her feel the wind again.

She could see it now. And hear it too. But still no feeling it on her face.

One day, a hurricane came. She didn’t think twice. As soon as the deadly winds hit her house, she went outside and spread her arms again to receive it. She floated away, flying freely and happily for finally being able to feel the wind again.

No one ever saw her again, but now every time the wind picks up speed she’s remembered as the wind girl, and her tale is told while people snuggle safely inside.

This post was written in response to the Sunday Photo Fiction – December 31st 2017, with photo courtesy of Jules Paige.
For more posts inspired by the picture, click the blue frog below.



“Did you see the crane fall at the marina?”
“A crane fell in the marina? No! I haven’t heard of it. Oh my gosh!”
“Yeah, it was sort of sad. Funny too.”
“Funny??!!! How could you see funny on such a tragedy?! A crane falling is a huge deal! Did anyone got hurt?”
“Hurt??? Heck no! Well, maybe the crane, but it didn’t really look like… Pretty sturdy guy.”
“Are you serious? Not only you think it’s funny, but now you make jokes?”
“What are you talking about? It was just a bird falling after a bad take off flight. No big deal. It was not even flying high. No one was around it. Why does this need to be so tragic for you?”
“Wait a minute… A bird? A crane bird?”
“Yes. You know… Big thin legs, long curvy neck…”
“Oh! Hehe. Oops. Sorry, I thought it was a construction crane…”

This post was written in response to the FFfAW Challenge-Week of January 2, 2018 , with photo courtesy of J.S. Brand.
For more posts inspired by the picture, click the blue frog below.



High school sweethearts

It was their Senior year in high school.

Prom night was coming and that’s when they were planning to give themselves to each other in full.

The chosen place was a treehouse at the backyard of an abandoned house.

Although shabby on the outside, the inside looked like a fairytale.

He lays her down gently at the mattress.

When things start to get hot, he remembers he forgot the condoms at the car.

He goes to the car, opens the glove compartment, and presses the button of a little remote control.


Amongst shrapnel and wood chips, she rains around him in bits and pieces of flesh and blood.

This post was written for the Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest #7.

The rules for contest for this week it to “write a flash fiction in 109 words, no more, no less and weave a murderous vibe through an every-day setting, either in thought or deed.”

The image that came to my mind as inspiration was the last one in the story, then I wrote a story around it to fit. Originally I thought it would be a 299 word story, which allowed me to add many more details. Those details are gone, but I guess the shorter version ended up pretty nice too.

The winner for this contest was announced today at the Carrot Ranch.

Congratulations to Marjorie Mallon!

Good job to all the participants!


Desert tough

He was lost in the desert, dehydrating and hungry.

Cacti was tempting with their water reserve, but the thorns were so tough!

He was about to give up when he came across a baby cactus with small thorns, that would pierce his skin just lightly.

With his thirst finally quenched, he walked onward until he found a rattlesnake.

Snakes were his most dreaded animal – hideous, scary things!

The viper was on him, looking intensely, about to pounce.

Heart racing, he was faster and before she closed her fangs onto his skin, he grabbed her and had a bite, satisfying his huger.

He was now the Snake Eater…

This post was written for the Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest #6.

To enter the contest this week we had to do it in 2 steps. First, we had a couple of days to sign up to it. Then, a 2-word name of a bucking bull would be drawn for each contestant, which would then have another couple of days to come up with a 107-word 8-sentence history that included the 2 words of the bull’s name. And the theme was to be a fictional story about someone facing a challenge or a fear.

I liked the title of my bull and decided to keep the words together in the same order, so I created a story to go around it.

The winner for this contest was announced yesterday at the Carrot Ranch.

Congratulations to Kerry E.B. Black!

Good job to all the participants!


To call or not to call?


She used to be proud.

He said he would call her, so she would wait, but never call him before he made the promised call.

A day passed and no word from him. 2 days, 3, 4…. She has hurt, thinking he didn’t care.

She meets a friend at the mall, who asks about him. She says they’re not together anymore.

A few more days pass and a common friend calls her asking about it and saying he heard the ‘news’ from someone else and was very hurt himself.

She calls him and decides never to be proud again.



Many years pass and she’s on a relationship with someone else.

She has never forgotten the lesson from her past. Never forgiven herself for having hurt her first love.

So, she’s still living by the rule of not being proud, and even if her new current love said he’d call, if it takes too long, she just goes ahead and calls him herself.

A bit too much on his opinion, tough.

He gets tired. He says the spark is gone.  She’s too pushy, too much, too insisting. Sort of suffocating…

They break up. And humiliated, she’s hurt once again.


This post was written for the Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest #4.

The rules for contest #4 are to write 2 chapters of 99-words each (198 words total), telling a story that shows a scar. It can be memoir, other forms of creative non-fiction,  any genre of fiction or a BOTS (based on a true story).

This one is based on a true story. The first part at least. The second is fiction, as it never really happened, although it portraits a very real fear…

The winner for this contest was announced yesterday at the Carrot Ranch.

Congratulations to D. Wallace Peach!

Good job to all the participants!


The Dark Priestesses

Their lord was captured by the priestesses of the Dark Sect.
She couldn’t let them have him. He was a good soul and needed to be saved.

She got her sword, mounted the mare and whistled for her companion dog.
In a minute they were flying through the woods, avoiding the branches and roots, trying to find the hidden shrine of the dark priestesses.

It wasn’t easy.
The woods were dark and very dense. Riding amongst its trees wasn’t a smooth ride.
Sometimes it also felt like they were going in circles. Maybe they were indeed.
And on top of it all, there was powerful dark magic protecting the shrine from being discovered.

But they needed keep trying.
His life was at risk and the villagers needed him.

She summoned her own Gods to help her on her quest. Hoping they’d help.

After two days riding, stopping only briefly to eat, and having had almost no sleep, the dog sniffed the air and started to bark and howl.
The mare panicked and wouldn’t go on.
She could also feel it. They were getting close.

She tethered the mare at a nearby tree and called the dog to come with her.

As they walked towards the force emanating from the trees, she became weak, her mind was going blank, but she was still struggling. She had to be strong to safe her lord.

After a few minutes of very hard walk, they came to clearing, where the priestesses were standing in a circle, with her lord tied up in the middle, subjugated, kneeling at the center, his head down.

She only had time to hear the spell before passing out herself.


Goddess of

the unliving!


I proclaim

this person

to your

eternal service,

on death.


Her lord was deceased…

This post was written for the Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest #3, hosted by Carrot Ranch.

The challenge today was to write a piece of fiction of about 200-300 words, that included a septolet as a spell or a charm.

Initially I though only the septolet would be required and crated the one above naming is “Verborragic Avada Kedavra”. But it was only once the rules were posted, and I leaned it should be in the middle of a story, that I created the story around it to go with it.

The winner for this contest was announced yesterday at the Carrot Ranch.

Congratulations to Deborah Lee!

Good job to all the participants!