The Eye

(C) Barbara W. Beacham. Mondays Finish the Story (MFtS), Aug 17, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Barbara W. Beacham.
(C) Barbara W. Beacham. Mondays Finish the Story (MFtS), Aug 17, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Barbara W. Beacham.

I see absolutely everything

I observed my creator as he admired me

I witnessed him aging and fading

I watched burly men handle me

I looked as they set me on a huge white wall

For all to see, and with all in my view

Then a man came and scrutinized me

I peered back

I oversaw money exchanging hands

Then they put me in brown paper

and I saw no more

Word count: 68

The Eye

Who Is He Hiding From?

(C) Barbara W. Beacham. July 27th, 2015. Mondays Finish the Story (MFtS) hosted by Barbara W. Beacham.
(C) Barbara W. Beacham. July 27th, 2015. Mondays Finish the Story (MFtS) hosted by Barbara W. Beacham.

He thought he found the perfect hiding spot.

So he kept still, muted his breathing and focused his eyes on the kitchen entryway.

Minutes passed by but it felt like hours, yet nothing walked in. His fur was beginning to itch. He had to groom himself!

He mentally cursed the universe for giving cats the insatiable innate urge to constantly self-groom. But he wanted so badly to give Jim a surprise and for once that priority came before the urge.

But it did not last long, so he moved ever so slowly, bowing his head down to the left side of his upper torso and gave it a lick.

Then suddenly, “Ooh! That tickles!” It was Jim! “Who are we hiding from, Terry?” Jim squeaked.

Word count: 117

Who Is He Hiding From?

They Are Here

(C) 2015, Barbara W. Beacham. This photo brings you to the prompt page. Mondays Finish the Story, June 29th, 2015. Hosted by, Barbara W. Beacham.
(C) 2015, Barbara W. Beacham. This photo brings you to the prompt page. Mondays Finish the Story, June 29th, 2015. Hosted by, Barbara W. Beacham.

The Mayor and the town manager waved as their next victim approached.

The little town of Sherman has been peaceful and idyllic until of late.

They came as fast as lightning, hidden beneath the cover of darkness, batting their full fledged wings. These beasts could sense power. The more influential the person, the stronger his scent was. Thus, naturally, the mayor and the town manager were the first amongst many more that they turned.

Now, the mayor and town manager did their bidding, as loyal as faithful servants.

Word count: 99

They Are Here

Queen of Thieves

(C) Barbara W. Beacham. Mondays FInish the Story Flash Fiction,  June 1, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Barbara W. Beacham
(C) Barbara W. Beacham. Mondays FInish the Story Flash Fiction, June 1, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Barbara W. Beacham

What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive

She is the best of her trade, the queen of thieves,
Who steals not gold but the hearts of men she misleads.
First she earned their trust, then she made them believe,
But the way she toyed, trampled, and teased,
Its no wonder that no male would choose to forgive,
but their pardon is something she does not need.
She is content with her life of promiscuous mischief,

Then he came, seemingly impregnable, the ideal candidate of intrigue,
Finally a game that she played with gritted teeth.
As she weaved, she felt unprecedented emotions: he made her complete,
So the queen quit her games, embraced her feelings, and laid her heart out to gift.
But by cruel destiny or ill fate, out of her life, he did leave.
She was the best of her trade, the queen of thieves,
Who stole not gold the hearts of men she misleads.

Word count: 150

Queen of Thieves

A Friendly Soul

(C) Barbara W. Beacham. Mondays Finish the Story, May 25, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Barbara W. Beacham.
(C) Barbara W. Beacham. Mondays Finish the Story, May 25, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Barbara W. Beacham.

The only residents remaining in the small town of Miners Hill are spirits.

But Annabelle did not know that as she and Caleb walked through a deserted street. They came to a dingy looking bar. Overhead, the neon sign flashed: Casper’s.

Intrigued, the pair entered the shop and were cheerfully greeted by a man behind the bar.

“Hello! Welcome to my bar! My name is Casper!! Are you two looking for some boos? I can assure you that you’ll have a frighteningly good time tonight at my bar!”

Word count: 75

A Friendly Soul

Diving Deep

(C) Barbara W. Beacham. Mondays Finish the Story, May 18, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Barbara W. Beacham.
(C) Barbara W. Beacham. Mondays Finish the Story, May 18, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Barbara W. Beacham.

“The crew of the Angel Flame received orders to head out.”

The crew consisted of Soul, Fury, Zest and Captain.

They were a group of very able engineers, and the Navy tasked them to design and build a new submarine for marine research purposes.

Angel Flame was thus born, and it was her first test run.

“Seal the hatch!” Captain ordered.

“Aye aye, Captain!” Fury replied, then later whispered to Zest, “You have no idea how long I waited to say that.” Zest chuckled heartily.

Once the hatch was closed, Soul lowered the submarine into the depths.

“50 metres… a hundred…. hundred-fifty…” Zest spoke aloud as he monitored the depth meter.

“Once we hit four hundred, we should start moving around.” Captain instructed. “Zest, take the wheel!”

That was when Zest realized, he forgot the most vital mechanism of their assembly.

Word count: 130

Diving Deep

Annabelle White the Sloppy Ghost

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham. Monday Finish the Story, May 4, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Barbara W. Beacham.
© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham. Monday Finish the Story, May 4, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Barbara W. Beacham.

After losing her head, she realized that the rest of her body was falling apart!

Then the doll collapsed into a pile of plastic limbs and a wisp drifted out.

The vapory wisp took shape and solidified into the form of a young girl, which then clutched at her own hair in dire frustration.

She punched a wall- and went straight through it.

“I hate being a ghost! Screw possessing things, I can’t even punch the wall properly to vent my anger!”

Feeling like she had enough, Annabelle screamed her phantom lungs out.

And she screamed, and screamed even more. She screamed all night long.

But as she did so, she did not turn transparent. And she did not see the toddler behind the door, but the toddler could not believe her eyes either.

Word count: 119

Annabelle White the Sloppy Ghost