fiction

In the midday sun, Shadow took another shot. It was the best time of day.

Another one and the series would be complete.

She checked the image on the screen. It looked nothing like her.

Had she changed that much?

Or had they found a way to infiltrate her photos?

Mini sagas are short, self-contained stories, of exactly 50 words. I’m using them as a way to practise storytelling. Sometimes inspired by a photograph, other times they are the inspiration for images, to complement the stories.
  

My bag is filled with fallen leaves.

I pick them one by one, and place them on the kitchen table. Six are green, four yellow. Two in between.

At dinner time they are joined by two cherries, a few crumbs.

In the morning they drown in a puddle of coffee.

Mini sagas are short, self-contained stories, of exactly 50 words. I’m using them as a way to practise storytelling. Sometimes inspired by a photograph, other times they are the inspiration for images, to complement the stories.

On a foggy morning, while walking through the old town, I came upon a strange shop.

Filled with curiosity, I peaked through the glass door.

Inside two men, busy at work. One held a body-less head, the other, a leg.

When they finally looked up, I screamed and ran.

Mini sagas are short, self-contained stories, of exactly 50 words. I’m using them as a way to practise storytelling. Sometimes inspired by a photograph, other times they are the inspiration for images, to complement the stories.