Friday Fictioneers – Home

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 © ALICIA JAMTAAS

Home

“Hello, Dad.”

Who’s speaking? Who’s this man so tall and strong, crowding my room? I don’t like him. 

“Dad, it’s Colin.”

I stare at him.

“My son was called Colin. Do you know him?” Somehow the words come out jumbled.

Why am I here? Am I in prison? I want to be home. I want to be home in my cabin, nothing but trees for miles.

I knew the forest. I knew the trees, from sapling to maturity. In summer the dry ground was springy; in winter, the mud clamped my boots.

“Dad!”

Who’s speaking? I don’t like him.

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Friday Fictioneers – Dare!

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 © ALICIA JAMTAAS

Dare!

Tom and James crept closer to the shack in the woods.

“The door’s shut.”

“Bet it’s not locked.”

“Try it!”

“Somebody might be inside.”

“Dare you!”

Tom swallowed. He looked back down the path.

“Chicken!” jeered James.

Hesitant, Tom grasped the door handle and tugged. The door scraped against the ground.

“Coo! Bet we’re the first people in years been inside,” he said.

There was a cupboard, a table, a ratty old chair.

“Look, there’s a drawer in the table,” exclaimed James. Excitedly, he yanked it open. Heavy, metallic, deadly, the revolver gleamed in the drawer.

Outside, footsteps crunched.

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Friday Fictioneers – Solar Storm

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 © DALE ROGERSON

Solar Storm

Demetrios could have wept at the sight of Miseon, shaking with fatigue after her second six-hour spacewalk in twenty-four hours. Sixty was too old for such brutal labour, but everyone on Space Station L1 was working double shifts. Extra protection against radiation was essential.

All pregnant women had been flown to the Lunar Base; the rest of the colonists would have to endure the biggest solar storm ever.

Demetrios held Miseon gently.

“We’ve done all we can,” he murmured.

Miseon pushed him. “Go in the command area. It’s safer. It’s your duty!”

“No. My place is with you,” he said.

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Friday Fictioneers – Leaving

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 © LIZ YOUNG

Leaving

It’s little things that betray her. She’s wearing perfume. When I ask how her day has been, she says, “Oh, you know…” She’s not telling me where she’s been in her car. She’s happy.

And I’m not.

I provide for her, protect her. All I ask is that she puts me first.

So be it. She’s using her car to cheat on me; her car will end the affair. Last night I made a pinhole in the hydraulics.

*       *       *

“You’re leaving him? Thank goodness.”

“Yes. Tomorrow. Thank you for so much support, Jenny.”

“Take care as you drive home, Sarah.”

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Friday Fictioneers – Spreading her wings

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 © MILES ROST

Spreading her wings

“Will you be writing to Mark?” asked Angela’s mother, Maureen, as they waited together for the Cambridge train.

Angela smiled. “No, probably not”, she said.

“He’s such a nice young man.”

“You sound as though you fancy him, Ma!”

“Good looking, well off, what’s not to like?”

“Uni’s a new beginning; I’m going to spread my wings, see how far I can go.”

Maureen raised her eyebrows.

“I expect he’ll get over it, Ma,” said Angela.

The train was pulling into the station. Maureen hugged Angela tightly. Her eyes were moist.

“Go and do brilliantly, lovely daughter,” she whispered, fiercely.

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Friday Fictioneers – Mother of Exiles

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) NA’AMA YEHUDA

Mother of Exiles

…“Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me…”

Poor Carmina. Our journey was almost more than she could bear. By day she hobbled on blistered feet. By night, she shuddered with the terrors of the jungle, my embrace barely enough to comfort her. But we made it; we slipped across the border into the USA.

Since then I’ve scratched a frugal living here. Carmina died last year; we couldn’t afford medical treatment.

“I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

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Friday Fictioneers – Friendship

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 © ROGER BULTOT

Friendship

It was by chance that Jack saw the old lady at the first-floor window. Her paper-like face was agitated, and she beckoned to him.

Jack pushed past the market trader to the door below the window.

“Excuse me?” he called, climbing the stairs.

The old lady pressed a handwritten note and a $20 bill into Jack’s hand, pointing at the shop opposite. Jack nodded.

When he returned with a packet, the woman drank its contents with some water and the strain left her face. She handed Jack another note. “Come Friday next week?”

Jack smiled at her.

“Okay,” he said.

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Friday Fictioneers – Fuel Poverty

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 © TED STRUTZ

Fuel Poverty

Her marijuana was hidden above the reach of the kids. It was her lifeline.

Noreen emptied the mailbox. Two red reminders and a Final Demand. How could they use so much electricity and yet be cold all the time? She’d asked about insulation, but there were no grants for trailers – a mobile home was not a building.

She switched off the tumble-dryer; that monster ate electricity. “My blouse is wet, Mommy,” whined five-year-old Reena.

Baby Kyle started to wail. Teeth, Noreen supposed.

She glanced up at her stash. No. Keep it until she really needed it in the evening chill.

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Friday Fictioneers – “Lakeside fine dining chez Louis”

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 © DALE ROGERSON

“Lakeside fine dining chez Louis”

Louis was proud of his newly-opened restaurant. True, the view was better than the wine, and the wine was better than the food, but nine out of ten of his customers wanted steak anyway. What could possibly go wrong? More covers were served every week.

Louis bought himself a celebratory cigar.

Then the rain started.

Nothing dramatic, just steady rain.

For days. Weeks. 

Customer numbers dropped as the lake rose. When the deluge finally stopped, the decking, so recently occupied by happy diners, was submerged. Everything was covered in mud.

Louis sighed, got out his broom and started cleaning.

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Friday Fictioneers – Reaching for the Stars

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 © DAVID STEWART

Reaching for the stars

It’s a long way to the stars. Even the nearest is more than 23,000,000,000,000 miles away. Out of reach?

They fired the rocket towards the sun, tracking it meticulously. It gained speed like a slingshot as gravity swung it round the blazing orb.

In Mission Control, student John Batchelor and the other scientists heard the AI announce, “Satellites deployed”. They cheered when the monitor showed an armada of craft, their sails stealing momentum from the sun’s light, each bound starwards.

Many years later, silver-haired Professor Batchelor watched enrapt as the craft beamed back their first image from an alien sun.

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