Friday Fictioneers – Betrayal

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 - Betrayal 181212

Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

Betrayal

After the betrayal Samuel had hidden in the garage and turned to Facebook for consolation.

“In life, we never lose friends, we only learn who the true ones are.”

The truism had hit him like a bullet.

The one person – the one person he had entrusted with his secret, had told the world. Now everybody knew that Samuel was gay. Now he had no friends at all.

The daintily typeset words on the screen mocked him as his feet kicked and the noose tightened around his neck.

Advertisements

Friday Fictioneers – Escape

NaNoWriMo is over for this year, and I’m delighted to have succeeded in writing 50,000 words of a novel in the month. I’m now trying to continue at the same pace until the first draft is finished.

However, this week the siren voice of Friday Fictioneers has lured me into the shoals of flash fiction, especially as Rochelle has picked such an evocative photoprompt from Dawn. Thank you to both of you!

Friday Fictioneers - Escape 181206

PHOTO PROMPT © Dawn M. Miller

Escape

If Saaburah had looked back, she would have seen a smudge of smoke on the horizon where her house had once stood, but she didn’t look back.

If she had listened to her memories, she would have heard gunfire, screams, and the roar of fire as her family and friends were slaughtered, but she didn’t listen to her memories.

With her baby swaddled against her breast, she had walked towards the border, at first alone, then with a few others, then with a multitude.

Filthy, exhausted, frightened, they streamed across the railway bridge into Bangladesh, homeless, stateless.

Alive.

Friday Fictioneers – Knight’s Move

During November, I am participating in NaNoWriMo. I’m excited, but the challenge will take all my time and energy. Therefore, addicted though I am to Friday Fictioneers, I am unlikely to post anything until December. I shall miss you all, stories, comments and friendship! Don’t forget me!

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 - Knights Move 181031

PHOTO PROMPT © Jeff Arnold

Knight’s Move

Susan and her coach, Tibor, had struggled all evening with the chess problem.

“Judit could solve this,” sighed Susan.

Tibor shrugged. “She’s in bed. Besides, she’s only five. Do you think she’s better than I am?”

I’m only twelve…” said Susan, slyly, and let the sentence hang.

“Well, do whatever you want.”

“That was a lovely dream,” Judit murmured as Susan woke her.

Downstairs she looked at the chessboard. Her eyes sparkled. She reached out and moved a knight, then yawned and snuggled against her sister. Her thumb went into her mouth.

Tibor stared. Judit had solved the problem.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word count: 99

Author’s note

Judit Polgar was the best female chess player of all time. She was an astonishing child prodigy, attaining Grandmaster ranking at an even younger age than Bobby Fischer had. She refused to play in women’s tournaments, holding that women were equal in intellect with men. She was eventually ranked within the top ten players in the world. She no longer plays competitive chess. Both Judit and her elder sister Susan (who also attained Grandmaster status) apparently enjoyed the discomfiture of male opponents who underestimated them…

Friday Fictioneers – The End

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 End 181025

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

The End

Silence.

No voices, no footsteps.

No clicking of radiators cooling; no electronic chimes from computers.

Sunlight streams through the great window. The painted figures of the frescoes go silently about their business, unwatched, irrelevant.

Dust.

On the lamps, on the huge circular counter.

On the floor, dust, scarred by the tracks of small scurrying creatures. Dust on the clock, its hands forever resting at a quarter to one – whether day or night nobody knows and nobody cares.

Outside the building, life, luxuriant and green, thrusts through asphalt, chokes water-courses, swarms over rusting vehicles and rejoices.

Man’s day is past.

Friday Fictioneers – Lots to Learn

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 - Lots to learn 181003

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Lots to learn

In his mind Arnold labelled her “Girlfriend”.

They’d met occasionally in cafes. He’d taken her to the Natural History museum, where she had admired his knowledge of palaeontology. ‘That was a date,’ thought Arnold. ‘Perhaps I could invite her to my flat.’

He vacuumed and dusted. Used an air freshener.

He showered, anointed himself with deodorant.

The doorbell rang. She smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘First kiss,’ he thought.

Entering, she looked around.

“Everything’s covered with labels!” she exclaimed.

“I’m learning Mandarin.”

She drank a cup of coffee and left. She needed to wash her hair.

Friday Fictioneers – How can I say no?

Bjorn contributed an excellent story to Friday Fictioneers this week. When I commented that it was the woman’s silence that made the story special, Bjorn replied “… I wonder how someone would write her story from her point of view.”

So – here’s my attempt in 100 words!

FF - Collateral 180926

PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior

How can I say no?

“Another coffee?”, smiled the waitress. Richard, perhaps embarrassed, accepted, but I shook my head. The jewellers’ box sat between us like a small grenade.

“Why?” I wanted to scream. “Why spoil our friendship with romance?”

It was my fault. I must have sent him the wrong message. I tried to say so, but the words wouldn’t come out, so I looked through the window at the rain instead.

We’d had great times, cheering on Manchester City, moshing at rock concerts, and – huge adrenaline blast! – rallying in his souped-up Mini.

But romance. I didn’t want that. My heart was still Deborah’s.

Friday Fictioneers – Collateral

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 - Collateral 180926

PHOTO PROMPT © Priorhouse

Collateral

Furious, Lane seized his wife’s wineglass and hurled it out of the window of the lobby on level thirty-five.

A little wine spilled and fell, making a constellation of crimson droplets orbiting the glass. A girl walked towards the hotel entrance below.

The glass sang as it fell, the sound modulating as it tumbled in the breeze, constantly accelerating towards its rendezvous. The sunlight sparkled mesmerizingly from it. A trickle of wine dribbled around the bowl like blood.

The glass struck, shattered her skull, made a thousand scintillating diamonds in her hair even as the light faded from her eyes.