Friday Fictioneers – The Last Gardener

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

FF - russell-working 180530

PHOTO PROMPT © Connie Gayer

The Last Gardener

I’m odd. I like to go outside, walk under the open sky. I was doing that one day when I met a bearded giant wielding some primitive implement.

“What are you doing?”

“Plantin’ beans.”

“What do you mean?”

“I put beans into the ground. They grow, and in a few months I’ll be eating fresh beans!”

He beckoned.

“See this? Proper sweetcorn. Not that stuff you grow in tanks. ‘Nother eight weeks I’ll be eatin’ corn on the cob.”

“You’re going to eat that?”

“Absolutely!”

I fled from him back to the hygiene of the city.

I’m not that odd!

Advertisements

What Pegman Saw – Dirty Business

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. Using the location provided, you must write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s prompt is Armenia.

WOS - armenia 180526

Tsaghkunyats Ridge, Armenia  © Roland Yeghiazaryan, Google Maps

Dirty Business

“There’s been another leak from the copper mine into the River Artsvanik.”

Grigor, local leader of the Armenian Environmental Front, rested his hand gently on his friend Ari’s shoulder and looked at the laptop. The video from the drone-mounted camera was shaky, but clearly showed filthy water from the waste tailings pond pouring into the river.

The two men looked at each other. Downstream, the river provided water for agriculture and the waste gushing into it was full of toxic metals.

“No point telling the authorities,” said Grigor. Ari nodded. Money had changed hands.

“Should we tell the farmers?” suggested Ari.

Grigor shook his head.

“They’d lose business.”

He rubbed his side where he’d had two ribs broken. The police had shown no interest in finding his attackers.

“Send the video to Friends of the Earth?”

Ari shrugged.

“We could try. They’re international – and the mine is owned by Germans.”

Friday Fictioneers – The Blues

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

FF - The Blues 180523

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The Blues

‘The blues’ they call it, and I can understand why.

In the pre-dawn light of a dull March morning, with drizzle coalescing on the windows, nearby houses loom, shapeless, out of the blue-grey mist.

I boil a kettle for coffee. Did I really used to grind beans fresh every morning?

I suppose I’d better wash the plate that I used for my microwave dinner last night.

No. That can wait until after coffee.

Perhaps I’ll feel better when spring finally arrives. Gerald’s plant looks cheerful enough.

It’s nearly a year now since he died.

I wish I could join him.

Friday Fictioneers – New Boots

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

FF - Boots 180516

PHOTO PROMPT submitted by Courtney Wright. © Photographer prefers to remain anonymous

New Boots

I gazed over the meadow, brilliant in the early sun, glittering with a million diamond drops of dew. I looked at Robert’s worn-out boots.

“Old man, you are not going out to tend the sheep in those!”

“Oh, you worrypot. Wet feet won’t hurt me. Besides, what do I wear instead? My church shoes?”

I tutted.

“I’m taking you into town to buy new boots. Today!”

“You know I hate the town. I’ll fix these.” He shuffled into the back room.

“There we are. Fixed.” Soles and uppers were now held together with duct tape.

Looks like ‘on-line’ shopping again.

What Pegman Saw – Ritual Offering

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. Using the location provided, you must write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s prompt is San Ignacio de Velasco, Bolivia

WPS - Ritual Offering 180520

San Ignacio de Velasco, © Google Maps

Ritual Offering

Nervous, I clasp my mother’s hand, for I am the youngest son who will offer the gift.

Our bonfire by the lake makes a circle of light in the blackness. Fat from the lamb roasting on its spit drips onto the embers, hissing and crackling in spurts of yellow flame.

“Viracocha sat in darkness, much darker than tonight.” My grandfather’s voice is quiet but strong.

“Viracocha wanted light, so he made the sun, the moon, and the stars.

He made giants, but they spent their days fighting and their nights in debauchery.

Viracocha was angry and caused a great flood to drown the giants.”

I glance apprehensively at the indigo waters of the lake.

“Viracocha made men. He teaches us to help each other and share our blessings.”

It’s time!

I hold out a plate. Grandfather carves lamb, and I offer it to our neighbours.

Viracocha’s blessings are for us all.

Friday Fictioneers – The Hero

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

FF - Boots 180516

PHOTO PROMPT submitted by Courtney Wright. © Photographer prefers to remain anonymous

The Hero

What sort of man wears boots with soles and uppers held together by duct tape?

I tell you, such a man once saved my life.

Warm sunshine had tempted me into the sea, but suddenly, chilled, I realised I was caught in a rip current. I fought desperately, but I was nearly spent.

A calm voice spoke.

“Stop struggling and turn over.”

I obeyed, and felt strong hands support me. My rescuer swam parallel to the beach, then turned to land. Others joined us, and soon we were safe.

I’ll tell you what sort of man that is. A hero.

What Pegman Saw – The final hymn

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. Using the location provided, you must write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s prompt is Gwynedd, Wales, UK.

WPS - The final hymn 180512

Caernarfon Castle, Gwynedd, © Wales Wane Law, Google Maps

The final hymn

“’Jesu, lover of my soul’,” thought Dafydd, as he creaked up the steep hill on his old bicycle, “a fine hymn and Aberystwyth is a glorious tune. Now, shall I end the last verse in E major, or E minor?”

A thin drizzle engulfed the hillside, forming tiny droplets on Dafydd’s spectacles and obscuring his view of the Ebenezer Chapel where he was to play the organ.

“You alright, Dai?” enquired the Minister as he arrived.

Dafydd shrugged. “I’m not getting any younger.”

Despite feeling weak he played with crisp precision and the congregation sang lustily. Dafydd was relieved when the final hymn came. “Aberystwyth truly is a marvellous tune,” he thought. “Now, E major or E minor?”

The cloud outside cleared, and a beam of sunshine illuminated Dafydd’s hymnbook. He smiled.

“E major.”

He played the last chord. His eyes closed.

Peacefully, with no fuss, his heart stopped.