Three Girls

 Thanks go out to the hostess of Friday Fictioneers, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

My task is to write a complete story, Beginning, Middle, and End in 100 words.

The following picture is the PHOTO PROMPT. 

Click on the Blue Froggie below to enter your story or to read other’s stories.


 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 101

(c) Lauren Moscato

Three Girls

 

This building housed three girls aged 12 to 14. Each picked up downtown by Jack who was a middle-aged drug addict that picked up girls to support his habit. He raped each girl once they were locked up. After the rapes, they cried.

Beth ran away while being sexually abused by her older brother. Jen ran from juvie after being arrested for her own drug abuse. Kwan was a refugee and sold by her father for $80.

Each girl was promised food and someplace to sleep. Now, they were slaves being indoctrinated into prostitution. They were scared and longed for home.


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Susan…

 


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Everybody Loves Clowns

 FFfAW Week of 04-01-15 

Each Tuesday is Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers- a challenge with a photo prompt provided by our host, Priceless Joy. Participants base their stories on the prompt. Attached is this week’s photo prompt. When the photo is posted/published, it is credited appropriately.

Please indicate on your post IF YOU DO NOT WANT CONSTRUCTIVE FEEDBACK.

The Link opens 12:00 pm NYC time (EST) Tuesday until 5:00 pm NYC time (EST) Tuesday.

Each story’s word limit is 100 – 150 words (give or take 25 words).

Click on the blue frog to read other entries or to add your own:


Genre: Flash but not Fiction

Word Count: 156

pixabay.com (free to use photographs)

Everybody Loves Clowns

 

Who doesn’t love clowns? I fought with one once. In 1984, my daughter and I went to the circus in Ohio. We were seated when a clown approached us. Melanie started crying because she was only two and frightened. Despite her crying, he continued toward her.

I would have backed away from the frightened toddler. But that is me. To amplify the problem, he handed her an outrageously priced toy. He stretched his hand for payment from me. I told him “No.” He attempted to take the toy from my child.

Don’t hurt a mother lion’s cub. “Don’t you dare take that toy away from her!” I said.  He still attempted removal. I stood.

He backed away leaving the toy. Did I have the money to pay for the toy? You bet. Did he deserve the money after what he did to my child? No, he did not.

To this day, I no longer like clowns.

 


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