friday fictioneers Archives

That’s What She Said

Posted on July 12, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

“Why is it so big?”
“It’s a tribute to our robot overlords.”
Dan adjusted the stainless steel colander on his head. A walkie talkie clipped to his buckle emitted a stream of white noise.
“Well it is impressive in size.” Leslie marked the boxes along her checklist.
“That’s what she said.”
“Oh, oh please don’t.”
“No, that is what she said.” Dan pointed to clouds dotting the horizon. For a split second Leslie could see a glint of something more than vapor in the sky. The white noise shrieked, spewed unintelligible words then fell silent. “They’re happy with my tribute.”

Word Count: 100
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The Act of Pretending

Posted on June 29, 2019June 29, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

The act of being everything I’m not has always been my go to defense mechanism.

Moving to a new school? I can give you best sharp witted class clown alive.

New job? I’ve always been dependable and I’m highly educated. They’ll never check the facts if you’re convincing enough.

New relationship? I mean who needs them really, but I’m the most debonair man you’ve ever met.

I go to every theatre audition but I’m never the guy they’re looking for.

Maybe it’s the stench, alcohol and unwashed skin can damper the ability to pull the audience in.

Word Count: 97
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Voyeurs

Posted on June 20, 2019June 20, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

We must all be voyeurs at heart but, surveying the waiting area, I see no one else people watching like me.

A middle aged woman scurries past carrying the group coffee haul.

A family of five desperately attempts to redirect the youngest before the situation descends to tears.

Then his eyes.

They meet mine across the noisy space. Maybe there’s a smirk dancing over his lips; caught in the act as we are.

Like tunnel vision, I see nothing else.

Someone pauses before me, an imprint on the outskirts of my mind.

I peer around the figure but he’s gone.

Word Count: 100
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Old Things

Posted on June 15, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

Lydia hated the old things her father insisted on keeping.

“Who needs this stuff? Ancient teapots and spoons?”

Her father admonished the girls irreverence for the past.

“These belong to your ancestors; gifts from the Gods.”

“I don’t want them. Ever.” She shoved the old silver items away.

“The last person who disrespected the Gods met a terrible fate. These items are meant for you.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and glowered. She was much more in tune with the modern age.

She landed with a thud as her feet slipped from under her. “What was that?!”

“I told you.”

Word Count: 99
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Salt

Posted on May 29, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

Saoirse could smell the ocean salt clinging to his skin. She could still see the sunlight reflecting in his hazel eyes. This was where Julian belonged.

It hadn’t been good enough.

He had the ocean in his soul but around here the dark corners echoed of empty promises far louder.

She begged him. He answered their call anyway.

If I could go back, Saoirse wondered, when was the moment you decided?

His mother wiped her tears away.

“This is where he was happiest.”

Saoirse inhaled the ocean air and tilted the urn. They watched as the waves carried Julian away.

Word count: 100
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Day 339

Posted on May 11, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

Sometimes I forget to breathe.
It’s not that I don’t want to.
The air is just so heavy now.
Like at the end of it all we only had sins left
And they’re trying to smother the few of us that remain into non-existence.
Of course I survived, heaven nor hell wanted me.
I wouldn’t have pushed the button if I’d have known …
I’m forgetting again.
Today I saw it.
Squat pale sandstone in the distance and figures bobbing in and out.
The lab notes said they have a way to go back,
If they’ll let me in.

Word Count: 100
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No Business for Friends

Posted on April 26, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

Words blurred in and out of Delia’s focus. She slammed the book into her lap and glared towards the younger woman bound by ropes in the backseat.

“See, this is our problem. You never shut up.”

The woman blinked as the statement hit her but the gag prevented her from responding.

“Even now I can just hear you whining.”

The woman stared towards the slouching fabric above her despondently.

“I thought we were friends.” Delia mocked. “You know you can’t have friends in this business.”

The woman sighed.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Tomorrow I’ll pretend I never knew your name.”

Word Count: 100
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I realize this is a beach and not a pier that you drop bodies off but you know … artistic liberties.

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Gathering Place

Posted on April 5, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

You always said the kitchen was our gathering place.

“Over fine food families are saved.”

We’ve finally begun washing away the smoke gathered on your plates. Odds and ends scavenged from charred remains gather dust among piles of bills. There’s a bill for every emotion it seems but our payment for grief falls short.

In your absence we gather under your favorite tree. We try to laugh but they burn our lungs on the way out, so we stand and pretend. Maybe we believe you’ll turn the corner, picnic basket in hand. Maybe if we just squint a little harder …

Word Count: 100
For Friday Fictioneers, many thanks to Rochelle for herding us in.

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Modern Gods

Posted on March 29, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

The fates decided to mechanize after Atropos, a little overwhelmed with the increasing demands of the job, had her “spree”.

“Well, there were too many of them anyway.” She dismissed the fragmented lives with a sweep of her hand.

Clotho agreed, “I don’t think I’ve had a break in a few thousand years. They reproduce like rabbits.”

“I’ve heard talk that machines can replace gods.” Lachesis reminded her sisters.

“I’d cut their strings too if I could.”

Clotho shushed the old women, “This is insanity. If Zeus can use Tinder we can have a machine to spin thread.”

Word Count: 98
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First Date

Posted on March 24, 2019March 24, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

“Do you think they’ll let us go around again? Just look at the view!” Tom moved from side to side taking in the sparkling city lights.

Jane’s nails dug into the seat. She clamped her knees together, maybe that would keep her legs from shaking off.

“Tom, please just sit still. You’re making the car swing.”

His date was stiff as a board. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

“God, I wonder if this car can shake as much as you are?” He laughed when she shrieked. “I’m just kidding. Hey, maybe we can do this again on the second date.”

Word Count: 100

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