Friday Fictioneers – A winter carriage ride

First, an apology. I am working very hard to edit my novel, “The Owl on the Pergola”. I couldn’t resist the temptation of writing a Friday Fictioneers story, but I shall only be reading a handful of others. I’m afraid I shan’t be writing many comments.

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!

 FF - A winter carriage ride

PHOTO PROMPT © NA’AMA YEHUDA

A Winter Carriage Ride

The carriage was gloss black with purple upholstery. The horse was black with a purple plume adorning its head.

Guy’s family piled blankets around him. Maureen, his wife, snuggled close and held his hand. She felt him shaking. ‘Is this trip a good idea?’ she wondered.

The horse leaned into the traces, and suddenly they were moving, rumbling sedately through the almost deserted paths of Central Park. The black, skeletal trees were traced in a silver frosting of snow like hope – or solace.

Guy stared at them, his eyes moist.

“Thank you. I’ve always wanted to do this,” he said.

Inlinkz – click here to join the fun!

Friday Fictioneers – In Plain Sight

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

FF - In plain sight 190718

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

In plain sight

Jackson slouched against the crush barriers as he always did. Later, he would buy a chili dog, smother it with mustard and slurp a quart of soda, but for now there was work to be done.

Without doing more than glance casually at the shoppers, he checked them. “Harmless. Harmless. Armed…” He mumbled a few nonsense syllables and rolled his eyes. A nearby shopper speeded up.

“Thanks, Jacko,” came the voice in his concealed earpiece. “Male, Caucasian, heading towards the tower?”

“Yo!” He clicked his fingers, shuffled a dance step; faded into the background as he helped keep NYC safe.

Join the Party!

 

 

 

 

Friday Fictioneers – The girl in the night club

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 girl in the night club 180509.png

PHOTO PROMPT ©Jill Wisoff

The girl in the nightclub

The four-piece combo was playing fit to bust, and a girl with black shingled hair was dancing the Charleston. Her cheeks were pink with excitement, her bee-sting lips cherry-red, and her blue eyes flashed as she moved. Her gold dress flickered in the spotlight.

‘Why not?’ I thought, and joined her on the dance-floor.

A heavy hand fell on my shoulder. I turned, ready to move fast. I looked up – and up – and my gaze had still only reached his Adam’s apple. The deepest bass I’ve ever heard rumbled from his seventy inch chest.

“Dance respectfully, bud. That’s my daughter.”