friday fictioneers Archives

“Destiny”

Posted on March 13, 2020 by Kelley Farrell

“True love is destiny.”

Juli had no time for old fashioned nonsense. Maybe “destiny” helped her grandmother but that was before the digital age. Everything was different now.

Juli’s Romeo appeared in the background of a viral video. The moment he smiled, she knew.

She scoured the internet, hoping to give “destiny” a helping hand. The research was painstaking but every bit was worth it.

He worked in front of his open window nightly, 9 PM sharp. The fountain, he penned, gave him endless inspiration.

Juli sat on its marbled edge, waiting. Any moment now, he would realize his “destiny”.

Word Count: 100
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Rules Meant to Break

Posted on February 19, 2020 by Kelley Farrell

“Time travel works like a ride, all about momentum. We set the chosen time as your center point, you see that perfectly. Everything towards the edges …”

The tech shrugged but George was unconcerned.

“Remember the rules, no touchy, no changey, don’t slow down.”

With that George was off, whipping through time and space. His childhood home came into view. He could see his father, hands around the neck of the only man George ever loved.

He had done the math. George knew just how much he could afford to slow and, after all, rules were meant to be broken.

Word Count: 100
For Friday Fictioneers (on a Wednesday!)

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Escalator To Heaven

Posted on February 6, 2020 by Kelley Farrell

“Excuse me.” The hollow sound of my voice is surprising. Brilliantly glowing arches of gold should echo, giving life to the thin words.

Robed figures slowly ascend the clunky escalator, seemingly unaware I spoke at all.

I can feel the anger pulsing in my temple.

“There should be a golden stairway!”

All these years I slaved over designing a breathtaking entrance only to have the project overtaken by last-second grand ideas.

‘Make it worth the journey to see that pearly gate.’ Of course, you don’t say no to the divine.

“Really sorry Jared. It’s a more economical choice.”

Word Count: 99
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PHOTO PROMPT © Ulrika Undén

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The Road He Built

Posted on December 11, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

When the wrecking ball crashed into his childhood bedroom the crowd gasped. Dawes felt glee tinged with betrayal.

He could practically hear his mom, “how could you?!”

It’s just a house. He reasoned her nonexistent voice away.

“But the land. Your father!”

Dawes found himself pulling up his bank account on his phone. One glance reminded him why.

Those zero’s are worth it.

The wrecking ball crashed through his family’s living room.

“You’re not MY son.” Years later it still stung but Dawes shrugged it off.

But I am his and he built this road. It’s always been his plan.

Word Count: 100
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Bus To Anywhere

Posted on December 6, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

I think it’s my bus.

Then again, if you asked me whether the sky was blue, I’d say I wasn’t sure.

The bus rattles to a stop. A never ending flow of people disembark through its doors.

Maybe it’s a clown bus.

“Last call for boarding!” I’m not sure I heard a first call.

There’s no seats, only pillows spread over the floor.

It looks nothing like buses should look.

This isn’t right. Where’s this bus going? It can’t be mine.

“Anywhere and nowhere kid. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

I do as he says. Nothing makes sense anyway.

Word Count: 100
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Do Not Allow

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

Friday Fictioneers Round 2

Damn, wine glasses keep getting bigger.

What used to be four is now two. And two, the equivalent of … six?

Math was never my thing.

But this wine …

One time I slipped into the basement of a winery. Oh boy, let me tell you …

They dragged me out a few days later, happy as Pepe LePew in a harem.

They pasted my picture around with a “do not allow” sign but you know, I’d do it again.

Word Count: 80
Number 2 for Friday Fictioneers (don’t ask why they’re both about being drunk)
See round 1 here

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Save Me

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

I’m 45 years old and what have I done? Everything and nothing.

Died. More times than I care to count. They always manage to bring me back to life.

But have I done what I truly want?

Have I reaped the benefits of a wealthy childhood? Have I earned my parents coveted pride?

I don’t need to reach into the silence to hear an overwhelming “no!”.

And here I am, sliding away on stolen booze in a ships cargo hold.

I plan to be good and drunk by time they find me. Maybe this time they won’t save me.

Word Count: 99
Joining back in with Friday Fictioneers
See also round 2 of this weeks prompt here

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Lame

Posted on November 1, 2019November 1, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

The briefcase and half empty glass of juice meant only one thing.
Julia tapped her papers against the glass table.
“Why do you always do this?” Robin dragged his fork through the syrup running over his pancakes.
“Why do I always do what?”
“This.” Robin pointed at her briefcase with his dripping fork.
“Go to work?”
“It’s lame. When I grow up I’m gonna be a dancer.”
Julia leaned down to the boy’s level where his blue eyes pierced her own.
“That sounds wonderful. I know you’ll do that but until then …”
Julia lifted his backpack and ballet slippers.

Word Count: 100
For the always wonderful Friday Fictioneers

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Pin Cushions Look Like Tomatoes

Posted on October 24, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

“That things a voodoo doll.”
Lori kneeled down beside her sister.
“It is not.”
The duo peered into the room where Ms. Mack snored with her mouth agape towards the ceiling.
“Of course it is. Why do you think your stomach always hurts when we’re here?” Lori tapped the side of Jules head. “Think about it.”
“It’s a pin cushion you meathead.”
“No, a pin cushion looks like a tomato.” Lori nodded towards the coffee table where Ms. Mack’s sewing supplies spread over the edges and onto the floor. “Hers has little people on it. All the kids she watches.”

Word Count: 100
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Possession

Posted on September 21, 2019 by Kelley Farrell

I imagine the breeze rustling the trinkets dangling above me. I even hear them in some distant space, clanking against each other ruefully. I can see them battling for space, a place to occupy my mind.

I remember watching TV. Knights clashed their swords together for the attention of some distant maiden. Sunlight carves stark lines across my single mattress like the scales of a dragon’s belly.

I’m careful with this one possession. I lay still but not for long out of fear my waif body will destroy it.

I sink into the lines, willing the beast to devour me.

Word Count: 100
For Friday Fictioneers