Friday Fictioneers – Who Cares?

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 on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

PHOTO PROMPT (C) ROGER BULTOT

Who Cares?

‘I used to work there,’ he said, softly. ‘You wouldn’t think it, would you?’

He gestured towards the bank’s headquarters, a temple of Mammon rising, ethereally beautiful, far above the surrounding buildings. Brilliant itself with reflected light, it cast deep shadow over the church opposite.

I handed the down-and-out a cup of coffee and a hot meat pie, and sat down beside him.

‘Do you have anywhere to go tonight? Snow’s forecast,’ I said.

He shook his head.

‘Come,’ I said, taking his hand and leading him to the church. ‘You can sleep here. We’ll try and find somewhere permanent tomorrow.’

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Friday Fictioneers – Desirable/Undesirable

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 on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

PHOTO PROMPT (C) ROCHELLE WISOFF-FIELDS

Desirable/Undesirable

He and she were in Jerusalem with their families, which you would have thought made them fairly safe from meeting anybody…undesirable. And yet, here we are, in a Romeo and Juliet situation.

There was drama, sure. He saw lads high up on Roman ruins, saw them pushing at a stone. He saw a girl below, oblivious. He ran, shouted, leapt, pushed her out of danger. The stone shattered on the ground, and a shard pierced his leg. Blood everywhere. She staunched the wound.

Only five minutes before their families arrived, but the damage was done, phone numbers exchanged.

Shalom.

Salaam.  

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Friday Fictioneers – Stone Walls etc.

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 on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

Stone walls etc.

With stealthy violence, the plant grew through the wrought-iron railings. Its tendrils insinuated themselves into cracks in the wall. Its leaves bathed in the sun. The plant grew and became strong.

*       *       *

Marriage to Benson had been fun at first. It was entertaining playing up to the bragging about his possessions, especially Hemingway’s typewriter; ‘See – Hemingway’s blood on the keys!’

But nothing lasts for ever, and yesterday I told him I was leaving. I hadn’t expected the fury of his reaction. Nevertheless, battered and bruised, I left. Even iron bars can’t imprison a flower.

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*       *       *

This story draws on one I wrote in March 2020, ‘The Passionate Collector’ but it stands alone. Anybody interested can follow the link below.

The Passionate Collector

Friday Fictioneers – Alpine Retreat

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 on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

PHOTO PROMPT (C) LISA FOX

Alpine Retreat

I knew as soon as I saw the chalet that I must possess it.

My sweet, my beloved Robert would have adored it. The door was weatherworn, coffin-dark; the walls were stone; the eaves – ah, those eaves! – were patterned in colours that once had been rich purple and glowing orange. Glorious!

It’s hard for a foreigner to buy property in Switzerland, but thanks to a smart lawyer I took possession in May. All summer I walked and wrote. I abandoned the world.

Then, when the winter came, I left the stove unlit. Gently, serenely, the chill bore me to Robert.

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