Protest (flash fiction)





An angry crowd had gathered outside protesting the sweeping new laws passed by the Government.

“How can I create art if there’s no more human misery and suffering?” shouted the artist.

“Now I can afford to feed, clothe, and house all my kids without having to work three jobs. HOW DARE YOU!” screamed a woman.

“But I wanted all my money to be sucked up by the global billionaires!” another man complained.

“Now I can have decent healthcare. What made you think I wanted that?”

“The environment cleaned up? Who said we wanted a utopia?” a woman cried out.


Joanne Fisher


Word count: 99


I have a liking for absurdist humour, you may have already noticed that…


This was written with the prompt protest provided by the Carrot Ranch Jan 16 Flash Fiction Challenge.



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©2020 Joanne Fisher



CCC#62: Just Zip It (flash fiction)



Just Zip It


Teri was proud of the name of her new shop and was certain it would help bring in the customers, this time. Her previous efforts had all ended disastrously: first there was her “Odd Sock Emporium” which didn’t overly excite the public, and then her “Rat Trap Shack” which also spectacularly failed in the marketplace. It was third time lucky, she hoped. She was sure her new shop full of zips would finally bring her the success she had dreamed of. It had any zip anyone could possibly want, and the quirky name “Just Zip It” which would surely help it stick out in the minds of the shoppers.

This was the morning she finally opened the doors of her new enterprise. She stood there with a smile frozen on her face waiting for the crowds to come. Any moment now.


Joanne Fisher


Word count: 141


This was written with the photo prompt provided by Crimson’s Creative Challenge #62.



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©2020 Joanne Fisher

In the Bleak Midwinter (Terrible Poetry Competition)


In the Bleak Midwinter



It’s the bleak midwinter

cold winds are blowing

snow is falling, everyone

is miserable and frozen –

but not me


here in the southern hemisphere

it’s summer and I’m in short shorts

and a close fitting tank top

sitting out in the hot sun

getting tanned


and I think of you all up there

in the frozen north

cold and miserable

and I smile at the thought of you –

because I am an arsehole.



Joanne Fisher


This was written for Chelsea Owens’s Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest #54. This weeks theme was The Bleak Midwinter.


In other news: I haven’t been online much lately. The WiFi where I live has been turned off as everyone is moving out (including myself once I find somewhere), and I’m relying on some free data my phone company has provided which will run out in a few days…. I’m praying that some kind-hearted soul might top my phone up before then, but my hopes aren’t high…



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©2020 Joanne Fisher



Telemachus Schemes, The Return/2 (poem)

Jan Styka – Telemachus Invites Theoclymenus to His Boat



Telemachus Schemes


I planned to go & find him –

in my dreams a goddess

with long dark hair &

ivory skin faintly whispered

that he would return


I traveled but found

no word of him, just assurances

so I pace the walls of our palace

while fat old men

drink our wine

eat our food

lounge around

planning to covet my mother

in my father’s house


they pay no attention to me

I wander unnoticed

& unchecked


my mother hides behind walls

picking & unpicking at embroidery

there is nothing to do

but wait


my father left me for the wars

I was too young to join

now that I’m older

my mother seems unsure

of my intentions


every day I look

to the fathomless sea hoping

to see my father’s ship

negotiating the waves


one day I will find him

my time will come



Joanne Fisher



This is part two of my Odyssey Sequence.

Part One – Penelope Waits



This first appeared on my blog in February 2018.



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©2020 Joanne Fisher

CCC#61: Unsure (flash fiction)





Jess and Cindy were scouting out possible wedding locations. They had come to this particular place as it had been recommended by a friend. It was a large building that was mostly glass, and looked like an oversized glasshouse to Cindy.

It was surprisingly nice and cool on the inside. The rooms used for weddings and the reception were equally a good size. Cindy tried to imagine them full of people and flowers.

Though Jess seemed to like the place, Cindy was more doubtful. For the amount of money they were asking to book the place, on the outside it looked like it was in a state of disrepair. There were huge amounts of rust, and it could also do with a decent clean. You would think they would spend some of that large amount of money they were charging people on some decent upkeep of the place, Cindy reckoned.


Joanne Fisher


Word count: 150


This was written with the photo prompt provided by Crimson’s Creative Challenge #61.



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©2020 Joanne Fisher

Return to the Farm (flash fiction)



Return to the Farm


After their wedding, Jess and Cindy returned to the farm. They stood at the doorway.

“Since you’re my wife now, I guess I should carry you over the threshold.” Jess suggested. Cindy put her hands on her hips.

“Excuse me? You’re my wife too. Maybe I should be the one who carries you?” Cindy objected. Jess laughed.

“With those slender arms? You’d be lucky to pick me up.” Jess countered.

“We’ll see about that!” Cindy replied defiantly. To Jess’s surprise Cindy strongly picked her up and carried her over threshold.

“I love it when you act butch.” Jess laughed.


Joanne Fisher


This was written with the prompt about a carried wife provided by the Carrot Ranch January 9 Flash Fiction Challenge.



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©2020 Joanne Fisher

Penelope Waits, The Return/1 (poem)

Penelope and the Suitors by John William Waterhouse


Penelope Waits


why do I constantly

look out our window

hoping to see your ship

returning to its harbour?


why do I listen for the sound

of your footsteps echoing

up to our bedchamber?


but I know you too well


you’ve gone after

your own desires

& I’m the spider

who waits quietly


the thing with journeys

is that they spiral inwards

to your own dark heart


should you return

you’ll find me here

spinning a web

to ensnare you


& every night I unpick it

while hungry men wait below


none of them

have your eyes

or your smell


all the heroes returned

from the wars,

except you


long have I dreamed

of your dark hair, tanned skin,

& sinewy form to emerge

out of the frothing sea-water


& into my arms


but I know you too well

you will come home only

when you are tired

of your journeys


your betrayals

your lies


& after so many threads

I’m tired of waiting

for our lives to begin again


is there anything worth


between us?



Joanne Fisher



First published in JAAM.

This poem first appeared on my blog in February 2018.


This is the first part of a sequence which retells the Odyssey through the eyes of various characters in it. When I was child, the Odyssey was read to me (a prose version intended for children), so it’s a story I’ve been familiar with for most of my life.


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©2020 Joanne Fisher