Flash Fiction: Junk

PHOTO PROMPT © C.E.Ayr for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers. Other stories featuring the prompt can be found here.


They cleaned out their grandmother’s shed. A hoarder of sorts. She called it collecting. Everything has value, a story.

“You know she’s going to come back and haunt us for messing with her shit.”

“It’s junk, not even charity wants it. Look at this painting, peeling from the backing, just a cheapie.”

Sarah rested the faded image by the wall next to the bin and stepped back. Her sister handed her a glass of wine. They clunked their glasses to honour the matriarch and stared at the rubbish. People started to move within the photograph. The city came alive. A younger version of the grandmother waved from the bridge.

“Better keep this one.”

64 thoughts on “Flash Fiction: Junk

    • Tannille says:

      I’m not 100% sure if they story is supernatural or psychological (grief can alter the mind). Knowing me, I’d say the image is some kind of portal 😀

      Thanks L!


  1. elpescador1 says:

    “It’s junk,” he said, “It’s useless”
    but I had to disagree
    It lay there gathering dust for years
    and it meant a lot to me.
    I’d forgotten that we had it
    It was bought so long ago
    I really only saw it once
    and it worried me because
    despite the years it lay there
    I never knew what it was.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Nobbinmaug says:

    Ooh. Grandma had that special wine.

    My friend’s grandmother was the worst hoarder ever. There were rooms in her house that were storage. One couldn’t even walk in there. Now, she seems like a genius or some kind of Nostradamus. “Grandma, I need toilet paper.” “Third door on the left.”

    Liked by 1 person

    • Tannille says:

      Toilet paper – her hoarding saves the day haha.

      My grandma was a bit like that, she grew up during the depressing and therefore kept pretty much everything and would only give/sell stuff.

      Yes that wine may have been in the shed!

      Thanks N!


  3. plaridel says:

    this story reminds of the time my friend asked me to help him clean up the storage of an old man prior to the house being sold. while we were sorting the things out, the light bulb started to blink. it scared the hell out of us. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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