Microfiction: The first stone IV

Last episode inspired by Charli Mills’ prompt.


Despite the distance, she knew the child had seen her. Shame gripped her guts and turned them to water.

No, she whispered silently, but there was no one to hear but herself and the oak sapling. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t Billy. Billy was away at school. But she could no more lie to herself than to the sapling. People swarmed then dispersed, leaving the child alone, staring.


She lunged into the roiling, boiling, boulder-bouncing chaos. Her foot slipped. Her hands, clawed fingers, lost their grip on the bark. She fell, rolled, head ricocheted once, twice…darkness.

Microfiction: The first stone

For Charli Mills’ writing prompt—a 99 word story about ‘just one’.


She glared down at the village in fury. They had no right! She pulled up a clod of turf and slung it down the steeply sloping mountainside. The friable earth flew as it bounced over the edge and out of sight. The village winked smugly in the sun. Church steeple, neat little houses, neat little lives, and they chased her out. Not in so many words. They just made her life hell. The sky was blue but her thoughts grew darker and darker. She chose a rock, hefted it in both hands, tossed it and waited for the thunder.