Posted in friday fictioneers

Fire in the Night

“What do you see?”

I see the future. I see you and me. I see my heart exploding. I see a million fireworks. I see galaxies.

I feel it all within me.

I see our first kiss, unintentionally wonderful. I see awkward laughs and gentle embraces.

I see lives intertwined, threads to a needle connecting time. 

I see my past fade away at your touch.

I see light fill empty spaces.

“What do I see?”

I see I’m in love with you but I can’t tell you that.

“It just looks like a fire dying in the night to me.”

PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

Word Count: 100

For
Friday Fictioneers, massive thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for wrangling this massive flash fiction challenge in every week.

Posted in friday fictioneers

Dad Said

“When can we go home?” Arnie watched his mom battle with the campfire. She rubbed sticks together, cursed, then clanged rocks above the cold wood.

“Think of it as connecting with your ancestors.” A frog escaped his mom’s frantic fire starting attempts. He counted the colors in the sunset. Five. His ancestors could have probably counted more.

“I thought dad said we were Irish.” The rocks hit the ground with a muted thud as his mom sat back.

“Well baby, your dad said a lot of things.”

“Like, that he would meet us here?”

Arnie watched his mom look away.

PHOTO PROMPT © Renee Heath

Word Count: 100

For
Friday Fictioneers. Many thanks to Rochelle Wisoff Fields

Click the blue froggy for more

Posted in friday fictioneers

Knotted Hands

My grandfather planted this tree with roots poisoned after the war.
His father watered it, the seed which came before.
My father nurtured them, these roots of ruined fiber.
This tree grew ever higher.
Its fruit, rotting, my mother prepared for me.
She sweetened it, tried to soothe it down,
Nothing could disguise the smell of these roots rotting in the ground.
It falls to me, as this tree must be fed;
A living sacrifice of a life never lead.
I toss my children as far as I can;
Mutter the same empty words my mother offered
Over knotted hands.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Word Count: 100

A write for
Friday Fictioneers, roped in by Rochelle Wisoff Fields. I also think it’s Sunday (though I am not 100% sure). I’ve been writing my research proposal/thesis. I’m afraid I’m not good for much else right now.

Click the blue froggy to read more!

Posted in friday fictioneers

The Wild Things

The girls stared across the table at each other. Each clutched a brightly colored piece of paper in dirty fingers.
The warden tapped his watch.
“Which one’s it gonna be?”
Hana watched as her younger sister slowly unfolded her small pink slip. Janey’s face contorted into a silent victorious howl as she shot up from her old chair to take a lap around the room.
Hana slumped, defeated.
“Ok Hana, let’s go.”
“No!” Without thinking, Hana was up and running towards the muddy grass outside. “You’ll never take me alive!”

Her father groaned towards the sky, “It’s just a bath.”

PHOTO PROMPT © Priya Bajpal

Word Count: 100

A write for Rochelle’s weekly Friday Fictioneer’s. Thank you Rochelle for keeping it in line as always.

To read more click the blue froggy

Posted in friday fictioneers

One Good Rebellion

PHOTO PROMPT © Russell Gayer

“It’s soldiers; marching …” Liza stomped in place.
“I don’t know. What about a mass influx of downtrodden people?”
“Hannibal’s army rumbling over the Alps?”
“Liza, you’re always thinking war. What about the devastation left behind?” 
“Bea, those rocks are strong! Why shouldn’t they be troops marching to victory?”
“One good quake and they’d fall.”
“One good rebellion from your influx?”

A group of high-pitched voices chimed in, “There they are! Ready or not here we come!”
Liza tried to run but found herself face down in the dirt thanks to a stray rock. 
“One good rebellion.” Bea laughed.

Word count: 99

A write for
Friday Fictioneers wrangled in by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

To read more click the blue froggy below


Posted in Word Prompt

2018 Round Up

I wanted to do a series of 2018 round up posts …

But I got sick instead.

With life not slowing down until after the new year (my daughter’s birthday is this weekend too!) I figured I should write something before Dec 30 next year.

This year I made the choice to stop focusing on hitting the publish button every day, whether the piece was good, bad, complete … whatever, and put more focus on participating in the community and the quality of what I was writing here.

That has helped me so much. I’ve gotten a ton of feedback from fellow writers which has helped me improve and become more confident. I appreciate every bit of it!

Without further ado … I’m linking the top 5 most viewed posts from 2018

#5 Counting Lighters

#4 was a tie:
Perfect Moon and Wild Mess

#3
Biblical

#2
Dead Leg

And #1, which surprised me: 
Jailbait

I hope everyone has a great New Years!

Posted in friday fictioneers

Shelley Robotics

Will had built robots and explored AI since he was a boy. This new project presented new challenges but Will was ready to tackle them.

This one looked just like Sheila. Sometimes Will had to remind himself S2 was different. As she stood, unblinking, in the garage Will didn’t need reminding. 

Her arm fell to the floor with a soft thud. Will stared at the fleshy decomposing mass.

“Well, the robotic one is almost ready.”

S2 pulled her crumbling lips back like a scared dog baring teeth.

“We’ll work on that smile next. Sheila had the most beautiful smile.”

Copyright –Douglas M. MacIlroy

Frankenstein was first published in 1818. 

Word Count: 99

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers as always.

Posted in friday fictioneers

4:29 – Friday Fictioneers

Beep.

“Hey kid. It’s …. uhhh …. it’s dad. I’m here.”

Howling wind and feedback sent the signal fading in and out.

“Wherever here is. I think I found it. It’s on the train tracks … over a valley. It’s a steep valley, gotta be careful.”

Quincy squinted at the figure moving towards the tunnel in front of him. 

“Anyway, it’s 4:30, Sunday the … 30th. It’s … uh … it’s October. Hey it’s your birthday, sorry I’m not there bud. I know you’ll tell your mom I’m sorry. She never believed me.”

The message sputtered feedback.

Beep.

Quincy checked his watch, 4:29, the 30th of October. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Dawn M. Miller

Word Count: 99

I’m super late on this one. I intended to write it back on Friday, then I intended to write it over the weekend. Thank you to
Rochelle for wrangling Friday Fictioneers.

Posted in friday fictioneers

Pinterest Dreams

PHOTO PROMPT © Nick Allen

“Six … I count six broken dreams …”
“Oh my god Jerry! They’re just watering cans! I’m gonna put flowers in them.” Zan thrust a faded can into her boyfriend’s hands. “Saw it on pinterest; such a great way to spend a Saturday.”
Jerry looked down at their toddler son. Last time Zan ‘saw it on pinterest’ the family had to dress as zoo animals for pictures. 
“This is what you do for love kiddo.” He whispered.
“Oh look! Here’s a yellow one!” Zan clasped her hands and gasped. “It has a bluebird!”
“Seven … I count seven …”

Word Count: 99

Many thanks to
Rochelle for hosting weekly Friday Fictioneers. Visit her page for more info about the challenge. Want more fictioneers? Click the blue froggy below.

Posted in friday fictioneers

Biblical

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

He ran his fingers through the raging water. The boss was right, the rapids were tumultuous enough. The rabid water ripped gentle leaves below the surface, corrupting them beyond recognition.

“We’re all absorbed into chaos eventually.”

His walkie buzzed to life, “Tomas, are you ready?”

The boss said nothing would change without the influence of old words …

“Ready.” His voice was steady but only now did Tomas feel the sun beating down on his neck.

The first strings of red rushed through the rapids towards the town water supply.

They would pay for their dependence on old words today.

Word Count: 100

Many thanks to
Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers!