Story Pic No. 6 - 10

I take a lot of walks in my spare time. Thankfully, I live in a beautiful neighborhood of a fascinating city (Seattle), which I love to explore; so, whether it's to stretch my legs, gather my thoughts or simply just to get some fresh air, I spend a lot of time walking. I started writing these ‘Story Pic’ flash fiction pieces when—after some self-reflection—I realized that most of my new ideas for current WIPs manifested while I was on one of my walks. So, like any good American, I turned something natural that I did to relax into work. Below are the fruits of my endeavor, each story inspired by something that I came across while exploring and took a picture of (as one might infer from the series title). The stories were originally released weekly on my social media—where they are still available (@willowsfield)—spanning over four months of my rambling thoughts. Please enjoy, if you so choose.

—Willow J. Fields

“Sitting Ducks” Story Pic No. 6 — 3/10/2022

They were just two ordinary ducks, they couldn’t be following him. Or so he kept telling himself.

He hurried away from the waterfowl, feeling their beady eyes on him as he slipped behind some trees. He heard the ducks take flight. He bolted.

Deeper and deeper into the woods he ran, but they kept following. The ducks chased him for ages but, as he dodged a low branch, a crash and a strangled, robotic quack echoed from behind him. He stopped in his tracks; one duck lay prone in the undergrowth, the other had disappeared. Horrified, he saw that in fact, it was no ordinary duck—it was a robot, a drone! Its body sparked and fizzed as its mechanical limbs grew still. If the birds were drones, that could mean only one thing: They knew everything!

“Infomagic” Story Pic No. 7 — 3/17/2022

“Has this ever happened to you?”

*Grainy footage of a robed woman with a pointy, black hat being splashed with water. The woman begins to scream, melting.*

“Then buy Scotchgard: Witch’s Brew!”

*Display footage resumes; the robed woman calmly slathers an oily substance across her forearms with a brush.*

“Our patented formula guarantees to ward off any precipitation, accidental dampening or forced lake-dunking!”

*The robed woman, smiling and glistening with oil, gives an enthusiastic thumbs-up. She mounts a broomstick, throws back her head and cackles as she zooms out of frame.*

“Call now and receive a free familiar with your first purchase! All this for the low, low price of one demonic consortium!”

“Redone” Story Pic No. 8 — 3/31/2022

“You asked for a statue to be built,” says the starving worker.

“Yes, but not an UGLY one. Where’s the panache?” you demand, disgruntled.

The worker’s shoulders slump. “But Sir…” they plead.

You cut him short. “No, no. Do it again, and this time really try to capture my essence or else I shall refuse to pay entirely. And do it quickly.”

You signal the demolition crew over and watch along with the horrified worker as the statue is smashed to bits. But you must admit, it was a pretty good likeness. And that’s exactly why it must be redone.

“Cat Nap” Story Pic No. 9 — 4/7/2022

The Wizard had only meant to turn himself into a cat temporarily; only long enough to sneak into the castle and eavesdrop on the King. That had been weeks ago.

He had thought a cat would go unnoticed by the castle's residents and mostly, he had. Until the little girl had spotted him. There had been no escape after that.

She had brought him home to her family’s quarters and smothered him with scratches and pets no matter how fiercely he hissed in protest. She had fed him dried fish, which he had devoured, loving the salty taste more than his formerly human tongue could recall. He had grown tolerant of her affections, counseling himself that he could always leave later—the King wasn’t going anywhere. But as he lay on the sun-drenched windowsill, the arcane worries of his old life seemed very far away. He’d complete his mission soon, after another nap…

“Lending Joy” Story Pic No. 10 — 4/14/2022

‘Lending Library,’ reads the plaque on the cabinet. I stop on the sidewalk to admire its contents; thumb drives, alphabetically tagged, populate the shelves in neat rows. Hesitantly, I select one. ‘JOY’ the tag states in bold lettering. I plug it into my head, cursorily scan for malware and, finding none, proceed to download my new found joy. I smile in contentment and turn to go; I’m stopped by a handwritten note pinned under the plaque.

‘If this helped you, share with a friend!’

I promise to do just that.