Friday Fictioneers – Fresh Start

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!


An apology to Rochelle. When I first accessed the prompt this morning, my computer didn’t give me Roger’s prompt, so I went with Rochelle’s photo.

Fresh Start

White, pinched faces. Clothes that had once been smart, now heavy with grime and the sweat of fear.

The older woman kept glancing apprehensively at the younger, seeking reassurance. She sat lop-sided, as if she had been injured and never quite recovered.

“You are from Armenia?” I suggested. I could only imagine what they had been through.

The two women exchanged glances, and then the younger nodded assent.

“I have friends who will take care of you, if you like. They will help you learn English.”

The younger spoke to her companion, who wept.

“Thank you, sir,” she answered.

Inlinkz – click here to join the fun!

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.”