Tag Archives: micro

Kokomo Moonlight

Okay, so the setting of my short story inspired by the Beach Boy’s song “Kokomo” isn’t in the Florida Keys or in the Caribbean. Instead it is set in south Florida’s seaport Fort Lauderdale. It is a common overnight stop for boaters traveling on the Intercoastal Waterway. I hope you enjoy it.


by Fay Moore © 2012

The sailboat glides through a small channel from the Intercoastal  Waterway into Lake Sylvia. The gunkhole is a perfect overnight anchorage for the weary sailors aboard the small sailboat. It is quiet and protected from the winds.

The moon rises as the anchor drops off the bow into the water. The anchor light twinkles at the top of the mast, looking no brighter than a distant star. A small galley lamp lights the inside of the tiny cabin, but ebony blackness inhabits the deck.

On the shoreline are a few waterfront homes of some of Fort Lauderdale’s prosperous residents. Nightfall cloaks the mansions in darkness; the houses are merely silhouettes dappled by intermittent patches of moonlight filtering through palm fronds.

An occasional house window is illuminated. If the fatigued sailors wished it, they could peer into the lighted rectangles from afar and pry into the doings that transpire inside the glass. Instead they focus on chores.

The woman comments that she wants to clean herself from the salt spray accumulated during the day’s sail. She grabs a bucket and fills it with tepid water from the faucet. With a sloshing bucket, soap and wash cloth in hand, she calls to her partner that she is going up to bathe on deck under the starlight.

Once at the bow, where her movement is unencumbered by the boat’s contraptions, she sets down the bucket and begins to remove her clothing. It is a sultry night, so she works slowly at her task, peeling off one piece of clothing at a time. She makes a neat little pile that she sets atop a hatch cover several paces away from the bucket.

Her clothing secure from a soaking, she turns and dances toward the bowsprit. Standing in the pulpit, she slowly raises her arms toward the full moon and throws her head back, her long hair tickling its way down her spine. A messenger line is tied to the rail. She takes hold of it for balance as she leans back, lifting one toe above the rail and pointing it skyward, in a nymph ballet with her partner the moon. The heat makes her glisten, her moist skin reflecting moonlight.  If light were hands, then the moon holds her everywhere at once, highlighting her curves.

She starts bathing, making sponging a part of her dance routine. She is alone on her stage, watched by an adoring universe of stars.  And by one dirty old man with a pair of binoculars.

Microfiction Response to Prompt

Black Eyed Peas’ song was fun to listen to and suggested to me a happy moment in the lives of a young couple trying to get pregnant with their first baby. My response to the musical prompt is a 33 word microfiction composition. I hope you enjoy it. It certainly won’t take long to read it!

Got a story of your own inspired by the Black Eyed Peas’ song that you’d like to share here? Send me a message via comments.

I’ve Got a Feeling

by Fay Moore © 2012

She takes her temperature. Bingo! Ovulation. She calls him, “Come home early.” She smooths the bed and lights candles. His key is in the door. Tonight’s going to be a good night.


I’m introducing a piece of sudden (flash, micro, short short) fiction inspired by Adam Levine’s “Moves Like Jagger,”  partial lyrics follow:

Take me by the tongue and I’ll know you.

Kiss me till you’re drunk and I’ll show you

All the moves like Jagger.

And by the luscious lips of Adele seen in this video:


Moves Like Jagger

by Fay Moore © 2012

He wiped his mouth with a corner of the linen napkin, wadded it and dropped it onto the empty dessert plate. As he reaches for his coffee cup, he turns toward the woman seated to his right.

“Your lips are exquisite.”

She smiles knowingly. Years of these smiles have put crows feet at the corners of her eyes. She says nothing, but tilts her wine glass toward the gentleman in a nod to his remark.

“Really. Truly remarkable. Full. Luscious.” He sips and smiles.

The dinner party is breaking up. The others have pushed away from the table and are standing.

“May I?” he asks, indicating he’d like to pull back her chair and assist her to stand.

“Of course.” She smiles.

He slides a corner of the chair and extends his hand. She takes it and rises. Her eyes are on his. He slips his free hand to the small of her back, guiding her away from the table. For both, the ritual is well-rehearsed.

“It’s been a lovely evening.” There is a short pause, then he asks, “May I call you?”

She hesitates. Before she can say a word, he quickly leans in and steals a kiss, his lips gently sweeping hers.

She pulls back, withdrawing her hand. Her eyes flash.

“No need to say anything. You have my apologies.”  He surveys her and adds, “And my thanks.”

He smiles victoriously, makes a subtle bow from the waist, then offers her his elbow.


He wipes his mouth and turns toward the woman seated to his right.

“Your lips are exquisite.”

She smiles knowingly and tilts her wine glass toward him.

Before she says a word, he steals a kiss. She pulls back. Her eyes flash.

“You have my apologies.” He pauses, grins. “And my thanks.”

About the genre:

Flash fiction

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Flash fiction is a style of fictional literature or fiction of extreme brevity. There is no widely accepted definition of the length of the category. Some self-described markets for flash fiction impose caps as low as three hundred words, while others consider stories as long as a thousand words to be flash fiction.[1]

In one particular format, established by Steve Moss, Editor of the New Times, the requirement is 55 words; no more and no fewer. Another, unspecified but frequently held, requirement is that the title may be no more than seven words. Hyphens do not alter the word-count (that is, “word count” has as many words as “word-count”). However, an exception to the hyphen rule is that if a hyphenated word cannot be separated, then the hyphenated word could be considered one word. As an example, (as given by the website, see reference) the word “co-worker” can be considered one word, where “long-suffering” is two words.[2]