Tag: friday fictioneers
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Gathering Place
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…
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Gathering Place
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…
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Modern Gods
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…
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First Date
“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…
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Captivate
She appeared in the music shop window. An enigmatic child before Christmas breathing slow circles of lust across the glass. Day after day she faded in and out, inching closer to the gold plated door handles. Her rats nest hair, highlighted by shimmering grey, and clanging camping pots scared patrons away. The day she finally…
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Best Laid Plans
The plan was fool proof. I picked up the dress – white lace and satin – and called the priest, well, six. That’s how many it took before I found a priest rogue enough to perform a Catholic ceremony in the dead of night. All the man had to do was show up. His bike…
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Chicken Little
Sia tapped an unsuspecting puddle with her toe. Startled it rippled away, gently distorting the realities reflected on its surface. The ripples transformed her brother, straining to peer into the dark general store, to a boy scavenging after Christmas. Barren trees became crumbling sticks, not even good for fire. The sky was falling. “Something’s wrong.”…
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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. Word Count: 100 For Friday Fictioneers, massive thanks to…
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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…
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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…
Kelley Farrell 