Tag Archives: flash

Neep [socs]

Stream of consciousness Saturday

Fred saw that his son had cleaned up the garage as he’d been told. He went into the family room where Dylan was watching a movie with Grandpa. “Dylan, thanks! The garage looks great.”

“Neep,” Dylan said.

Neep?” Fred asked.

Dylan waved a hand. “Like yeah… neep. I’m acknowledging your compliment, Dad.”

“Whatever happened to no problem?” Fred said. “I hope you aren’t using this casual language to your teachers.”

“Like they ever give me compliments,” Dylan muttered.

Grandpa spoke up. “Back in my day, we said you’re welcome.

Fred rolled his eyes. “How many times have I heard back in my day?

“Not enough!” Grandpa chuckled.

“I like you’re welcome,” Dylan said. And he began using it with his friends, who thought it was hilarious. They said it instead of neep. It was fun! Made them stand out from the crowd.

At the parent-teacher conference, Ms. Pine told Fred she was pleased with Dylan’s progress. “He’s a very well-spoken young man. He even says you’re welcome when I thank him for turning in his English homework. You’ve done a great job with him, Mr. Hartley. Thank you.”

Fred, being divorced and thinking Ms. Pine was very pretty, wanted to seem cool. So, he smiled and said… “Neep.”

Ms. Pine frowned at him over her glasses.


Image credited to Shelley Krupa.

©️2020 Paula Light and Light Motifs II. No unauthorized use permitted. Please check out Paula’s books for sale on Amazon.

First Date [flash 175]

Spaceship taking people

“What the heck is going on, Bill?” Kathy patted her hair to smooth it back into place after that whoosh up into the air.

Bill grinned and waved his arms around, which seemed abnormally short. “You said you were bored with the same old dates, so I came up with an original concept.”

She had said that in her profile. “Yes, but when you told me to meet you in the field, I assumed we’d have a romantic evening looking at stars, not a tour of a spaceship.”

“It’s too overcast to see stars tonight through this haze,” Bill said. “Besides, this is the latest Teslatta. Aren’t you interested in the amazing details?”

Kathy shrugged. “Only if it has a wine and cheese bar.”

“Well, it does,” Bill said, pushing a button on the console.

“Eww!” Kathy shrieked as giant insects flew out of a crevice.

Bill zapped them up with his 7-foot tongue. “Sorry about that, Kathy,” he said after swallowing. “I need to put a sticker on that button to remind me.”


Written for Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge 55.

©️2020 Paula Light and Light Motifs II. No unauthorized use permitted. Please check out Paula’s books for sale on Amazon.

Tangled Thoughts #PoiMe

Pointless meandering

One of the things that motivated me to both begin this #PoiMe idea and also quit doing so many prompts was the Flashback Friday. Please bear with me through the tangle of thoughts here…

So, when I look for my FF post I generally find a book or movie review, a Wordless Wednesday, or someone else’s poetry (I was big on quoting back in the day). Why is this the case when my blog is so old? Well, I’ll tell you! It’s because I periodically hosed a ton of posts. Usually I did this because I was once again attempting to find the love of my life on a dating site. I didn’t want new men to visit and read all my bitching about men on dating sites, so I kept erasing my footsteps. Unfortunately, some of those posts were very funny and would have made good FF’s. Too bad. 😔

But the point is, my blog had become a bit sterile and structured. Old boring posts. Huge gaps in posting due to hosing. New posts mainly in response to other people’s prompts. Where was my very own stuff? There didn’t seem to be that much of it, and that bugged me. Yes, a poem or a piece of flash fiction is still “mine” even if I wrote it in reply to a prompt ~ and I’m pleased with some of those results. But to me, my blog should still have a sizable amount of my own jabbering straight from my own mind.

There hasn’t been much in my life that I can call mine without someone else telling me what to do, how to do it, and when. I realize that’s the case for most people, so I’m nobody special. But I do have writing. It’s the one thing. And for a while I was hoping to hand that over to someone else too, in exchange for major coin… in fact, I wanted this so badly I would have done anything… I do mean anything to achieve it. (Almost anything.)

But it didn’t happen. I changed the way I wrote in hopes of pleasing people who might pay me for it, but that didn’t help. I wrote totally different things, but nope. Nothing. Some near-bites and a couple bucks, but… nothing. Finally, I gave up and self-published. The beautiful thing about this path is that there’s no one telling me what to write and how many words, where to break chapters, that my characters are too much this or too little that, et cetera. I do what I want! 😈

Why then should my blog be kneecapped by prompts? It was entirely my own fault that I pressured myself to feel I needed to reply to so many. Whenever I felt like “just writing,” I thought mm can’t cuz I have all those prompts saved to do. Even at this very moment, I can’t escape the teensy dart of guilt for not writing about Fandango’s spaceship and instead blabbering on here.

But dangit I am determined to pointlessly meander now, at random times, when the mood strikes… 🦋


Image originally from Pixabay.

©️2020 Paula Light and Light Motifs II. No unauthorized use permitted. Please check out Paula’s books for sale on Amazon.

Navel Glazing

Magenta daisy

Dr. Tanya asks more blogging questions about blogging bloggers…

 1. Do you like to respond to writing prompts?

It depends. I haven’t been doing many this month because I had a lot of other stuff going on. I committed to doing the daily music prompt for Bee, and I was busy with my political love story. But yesterday I did a combo post for Fandango’s Flash Fiction prompt, and that worked out well. When I do writing prompts, I like to combine them.

Typewriter explosion

 2. Do you feel that they add value to your blog?

Fiction and poetry add “value” to my blog, as do posts about writing in general, book and movie reviews, and other cultural jabber that can add depth and interest to fictional settings and characters. What doesn’t add value are boring “Facebook” type get-to-know-ya lists of favorite colors and ice cream crap posts that I try to avoid.

I love to read other bloggers’ short fiction and poetry, whether from prompts or not. There’s so much creativity here!

 3. What is your favourite kind of writing prompt?

I am more likely to respond to an idea, or words that together form an idea in my mind. Sometimes I’ll respond to a dreamy picture that inspires a poem.

Walking with a red umbrella underneath a full moon

 4. Which ones are you less likely to do?

I won’t post yucky pictures here and I try to avoid politics, religion, and graphic sex, not that this is a blog for little kids or anything. But those are my preferences. If you want to read spicier stuff from me, buy my books.

I also don’t like a lot of rules about writing for fun. When I post a prompt, I tell people to respond how they wish. To me, that’s ideal. If I see a prompt that tells me I need to reply with 87 words all starting with Q, stand on my head, and click a freaking blue frog, ya know what? HARD PASS.

Bitmoji boom


Image credits to Bitmoji and idk… Google?

©️2020 Paula Light and Light Motifs II. No unauthorized use permitted. Please check out Paula’s books for sale on Amazon.

Retirement [flash 172]

Alarm clock monochrome

It was a myth that you’d miss working 6 months after retirement. Marty had heard all the jokes as he’d opted to get out early, and here he was… sleeping half the day away, with his most important decision being should he make pancakes or waffles for brunch?

He rubbed his hands together with glee as he started the coffeemaker. Mmm French roast. So delicious! He did not miss the crap brew they’d had back at work, nor the intrigue and gossip among his backbiting colleagues.

Sure, it got lonely at times, but Marty had resilience. He’d signed up for a macrame class at the community center and Linda next door had invited him to join her bird watching club. Fun!

He sure was not going to miss the screams and howls of his old job, the crying, the punching, the spitting, the stabbing, the tranquilizer darts, the shock collars

Nope, Marty was not gonna miss teaching in that third grade classroom one bit!

Besides, his neck was still a little sore.


Written for Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge 54.

©️2020 Paula Light and Light Motifs II. No unauthorized use permitted. Please check out Paula’s books for sale on Amazon.

FFE: 4 in 1 [fiction 341]

Heavenly harp

Larry and Daryl were wandering around the clouds, checking out their new digs.

“Hey, look at those cool harps!” Larry exclaimed. Golden harps gleamed beyond a gate with a “Keep Out” sign.

“Don’t go over there,” an angel warned. “Those harps have been specially tuned for our concert tonight. Even I am afraid to touch them.”

After she floated off, Larry and Daryl rushed past the sign to check out the harps. “Whoa, look at this one!” Daryl cried, starting to strum a tune he remembered.

“That little lamb sounds a little off,” Larry said. “Maybe we should help out the angels by tuning it better.”

“It ain’t broke,” Daryl said. “But yeah… let’s fix it, Lar. Great idea!”

The guys tinkered with the harp for a while, but the song kept sounding worse and worse. “Dang it, Daryl!” Larry griped. “This was a dumb idea to go messing with the harp when it wasn’t even broke.”

“It was your dumb idea, Larry!” Daryl reminded him. “Let’s see if we can find a repair shop.”

The guys schlepped the harp over several piles of fluffy clouds before they found a repair shop with same-day service.

“Now what you wanna do is replace this whole dohicky system here,” the repairman told Larry and Daryl. “If you just fix the string it’ll pop again in a week. And the filters are dirty, which was likely causing that low tone. You boys gotta put premium oil in this model too. I highly recommend our deluxe three year extended warranty platinum plan. It’ll save you money in the long run, and let’s face it… ain’t none of us going anywhere… amirite?”

Larry looked at Daryl and Daryl looked at Larry. It was true they weren’t going anywhere. So… okay then. They nodded at each other and Larry handed the repairman his blue Heavenly Express card.

The repairs were done in an hour and the guys brought the harp back to join its golden friends behind the gate.

“All’s well that ends well,” Larry said.


Written for Fandango’s February Expressions #1, #2, #3, and #4.

Image credit to Pixabay.

©️2020 Paula Light and Light Motifs II. No unauthorized use permitted. Please check out Paula’s books for sale on Amazon.

Small Choices [socs fiction 187]

Stream of consciousness Saturday

Mary and Gary were on a blind date, set up by their grandmothers.

“Mary,” Gary said. “I notice that everything you are wearing is blue. Does that have a special meaning?”

“Not really,” Mary told Gary. “It’s just so that when I get dressed I know my clothes all go together without having to make a bunch of time-consuming small choices.”

“That makes sense,” Gary said. “What would you like on your pizza?”

Mary waved a hand. “Everything! I don’t want to think about insignificant things like pizza toppings.”

Gary ordered their pizza. “What do you feel is important enough to think about, Mary?”

“Lots of stuff, Gary!” Mary exclaimed. “For example, I’m always wondering why people buy large bottles of things they can’t use up before the expiration date.”

“Oh. That is an excellent point to ponder. They aren’t really saving money then, are they?” Gary mused.

Mary smiled. “Certainly not! Well, what do you think about eloping to Vegas after our pizza? I have a coupon.”

“All right,” Gary agreed. “There’s no point in wasting time on more dates when we’re obviously a match.”


Image credit to Shelley Krupa.

©️2020 Paula Light and Light Motifs II. No unauthorized use permitted. Please check out Paula’s books for sale on Amazon.


Daybreak dawn sunrise

Streaks of gold slid over the sky, warming the night like melted butter. She tried to forget the strange happenings of yesterday, but they kept flashing through her mind like a virus on the screen. After all these years of tormenting her, that vile man had decided to waltz off without even a wave goodbye. She breathed a sigh of relief as she absorbed the colorful healing beauty of daybreak’s aesthetics. The possibilities were endless.


Written for Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo

©️2020 Paula Light and Light Motifs II. No unauthorized use permitted. Please check out Paula’s books for sale on Amazon.

My Giant Pumpkins! [fiction 255]

Mae nudged my arm. “There’s that man again. What’s his name?”

I watched the old farmer walk up to the diner. “Willard. He always smells like manure,” I whispered.

“Afternoon Uma,” Willard said to me, sitting at a booth and putting his urn down across from him. “Edith and I would each like a bowl of ramen and some cornbread.”

“Got it.” I scooped up his unused menu and went back to the kitchen with his order.

“Well,” Mae demanded. “Did he order lunch for his dead wife again?”

“Don’t be mean,” I said. “He treats her better than your boyfriend treats you!”

“True,” she admitted. “But at least my man wears rum-scented aftershave, not emu poo.”

She had a point there. I served Willard and Edith their lunch, trying not to get too near, but it was soup, and I didn’t want to spill it.

Then it got busy, so I had to run around and serve other customers.

“Thanks Uma,” Willard said when I returned to his table to clear their dishes. “By the way, Edith wanted to compliment you on your giant pumpkins. She also said you really earn your tips.”

“My what?!” I must have misheard and touched my ear.

Willard nodded. “Yep, those are some big ones. We’ll probably be ordering pie.”

“Oh… you meant pumpkins in the garden.” I laughed.

Willard gave me a strange look. “Where else would they be? Just one slice though. I don’t think Edith is that hungry today. She barely touched her soup.”


Written for Rory’s What’s Your Story Then?

Words made from manure: are, arm, ear, earn, emu, Mae, man, manure, me, mean, menu, name, near, ramen, rum, run, Uma, urn

Image from Pexels.

©️2020 Paula Light and Light Motifs II. No unauthorized use permitted. Please check out Paula’s books for sale on Amazon.

Moonfire Goddess [fiction 118]

“Imagine feeling so alive that you’re both tantalized with the flicker of warm golden flames while at the same time soothed with the caress of cool midnight breezes.”

Tucker nodded. “Okay. Good, but why do you have her in that cowgirl getup? I was thinking something more… ethereal.”

“Ethereal?” Alice frowned. “But you said a strong woman. We didn’t want to put her in a nightie.”

“Fine, whatever.” Tucker checked his list. “What are those stone looking blobs supposed to represent?”

“I’m not sure, but the creatives felt strongly about it. New territory, I guess.”

“Mm, adventurousness perhaps?”

Alice nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

“Let’s shoot it as is then,” Tucker said. “Hopefully it’ll sell some Moonfire mouthwash.”


Written for Sadje’s What Do You See?

©️2020 Paula Light and Light Motifs II. No unauthorized use permitted. Please check out Paula’s books for sale on Amazon.