Micro Monday Flash Fiction: Dormant

Today's one-word prompt is "dormant." Inhabit the word, let it speak to you, and then write!

(I'f you're joining us for the first time, every Monday is our day to exercise our writing muscles by writing a 300-words-or-less flash fiction piece. Want to share yours? Either paste it in the comments below the post, or post it on your own blog and link up on twitter with #mmflashfic! Easy peasy!)

Have fun writing!


She felt her lungs expand as she inhaled, then held that breath, staring at herself in the mirror. She could see the difference already in her eyes, in the glow of her skin, in the way the left corner of her mouth turned up just so. She exhaled through her mouth, expelling with her breath all of the negativity and criticism she had lived under for far too long. She had let other people dictate her life, her hows and whys, while she had slowly retreated, farther and farther into the dark recesses of her own self. She had been dormant for so long that she had nearly forgotten where she was. Who she was.

But not anymore.

Something had awoken her. She smiled at the memory. It had been so simple, so ordinary: a drop of dew on one of her roses out front. She had gone out for the mail and, for some reason, had literally stopped to smell the roses. Usually she was too rushed to pay much attention. But that day, something captured her.

She had lowered her face to the rose, so close that she startled when a soft petal brushed her cheek. She had forgotten how soft the roses were, and she gently held the petal between her thumb and forefinger, marveling at its velvety feel. And that’s when she saw it.

In a small dewdrop, she saw her own reflection. Upside-down.

And she realized that she had been living upside-down for far too long. It was time to set herself right again. To wake the wild spirit that slept within her. To set herself free.

As she looked at her reflection now, she smiled at how very not upside-down she looked. And, fully awake, she turned and stepped into her life.

Micro Monday Flash Fiction: Twilight

Welcome to the second Micro Monday Flash Fiction! This week, our one-word prompt is "twilight." And I don't mean the sparkly-vampire sense of the word, but the original meaning (taken here from the Oxford Dictionaries): "The soft glowing light from the sky when the sun is below the horizon, caused by the refraction and scattering of the sun’s rays from the atmosphere.

So, let that word settle into your senses. Feel it. See it.

Now, write it.

(If you're joining us for the first time, every Monday we have a one-word prompt for a flash fiction piece of up to 300 words. If you would like to participate and share your own, you may paste it in the comments below, or post it on your own blog and link up on twitter with #mmflashfic.)


The long grass caught around her toes as she made her way toward the center of the meadow. She tugged his arm, running ahead of him, and he lazily kept pace with her. 

"Where are you taking me?" she heard him say. But her response was a simple laugh. She smiled to herself and checked the sky.

"You'll see," she finally said, peeking behind her to check that the blindfold was still firmly in place. It was. But she also caught the trace of a smile playing on his lips.

Another moment and she had found what she was looking for. 

"Okay, this is it," she said, steering him by his shoulders to face west. "Now, lie down."

"What?" He seemed surprised, but also curious.

"Just do it."

He nearly disappeared among the tall grasses. She lay down next to him, and then pulled the blindfold off.

"Look! There!" she said, pointing. 

The sky above them was just fading purple from the pinks of the setting sunlight, with indigo toying at the edges. The first stars of the evening glimmered overhead, and the moon already held her place in the sky.

She watched his face, noting his eyes darting from star to star, the right corner of his mouth upturned slightly.

“You’ve really never just watched the stars come out? Really?”

He shook his head, still gazing upward. “No,” he breathed. “But, this is…”

“I know,” she sighed, falling back into the grass beside him. For several moments they just lay there, staring up at the twilit sky, watching as the light faded, and the indigo seeped across the remaining colors like spilled ink. “I know,” she whispered again.

And then she felt his fingers finding the spaces between hers, and she smiled up at the stars.

Micro Monday Flash Fiction: Silence

From now on, Mondays will be a sort of kick-off day for our writing week (for you and for me). I will post a prompt - likely just one word - and we then have all day to post a microfiction based on that prompt. For the sake of this weekly series, "microfiction" will be works of no more than 300 words. This is just an exercise, meant to get our creative muscles warmed up for the week ahead. So have fun with it, and don't let perfectionism get the best of you! I will post my own microfiction with the prompt post, but I'd love to see yours in the comments, or link up to your blog post on twitter using #MMflashfic and tag me, @amy__lutes!

Our first prompt will be "silence."


In the silence, my fears are immense. I cower in their shadows. I do not yet realize that that's all they are - shadows. My fears are not solid things that can inflict pain on me. They are mere shadows that grow and waver and change in the play of light. Oddly, they are less ghost-like when the light is strong. But then, I can better identify their shape, and so they have less strength to work their magic on my subconscious. No - it is when the light is dim - when I feel far from the sun, far from that Light that gives me strength - that the wavering shadows of Fear cause me the most issues. For it is then that my imagination turns them into these solid towers that stand before me now.

I feel my hands quiver as I turn to look at the towers. Still there is no sound - the silence is palpable. I don't even hear my own breath, my own heartbeat. I look at the towers of blackness. But what I see gives me pause. Suddenly I gasp. The Light is bright, radiating. And the blackness of the shadows of Fear are sharply outlined. And they are shaped just like me.

I realize in this moment that what I fear most lives within me, in my heart. And with this realization, the fear weakens, wavers, as Light blazes through my heart and shatters the towers into a million pieces. And I smile as the tiny black ashes flutter through the air. One lands on my shoulder and I turn my head, smiling, and brush it away with a wave of my hand.

And then I turn my back on that place and walk into the Light.