Sirens – Friday Fictioneers

Hello. It’s time for another Friday Fictioneers entry. The challenge is to write a 100-word story in response to a weekly photo prompt chosen by our host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Follow the link to her blog for more information. Thank you to all who take the time to read, like, or comment.

2019 05 17

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Sirens

“I don’t have my swimsuit.”

“Neither do we.”

I sensed a trap but realised it was the truth. The water lapped at their bare skin, whilst cunningly distorting the view of all that I so desperately wanted to see.

I swayed slightly, thoughts muddled; drowning in the too-hot, too-close, and too-loud environment that singularly defines an indoor swimming pool.

“Are you coming in?”

~

Later, I tried to reason that fleeing had been heroic: I’d resisted the Sirens.

In a parallel universe, another version of me had dived right in, probably to their doom. Those bastards have all the fun.

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Grindr

Hello. A friend recently started a new band and asked if I wanted to have a go at writing some song lyrics. He won’t be making that mistake again.

If you’re easily offended by homosexuality or bad language, you might want to skip this one (plus, we can’t be friends).

Grindr

I spent the night on Grindr.
Normally I’m against all forms of social media.
But I was looking for a distraction
From my boredom and isolation.
It’s a shame none of these guys can spell.
I guess I’ll stick to masturbation

And that’s because:
When there’s a their,
Or a they’re,
Where there should be a there,
Then there’s no hope for us.

And if you’re unsure
If it’s a your,
Or a you’re,
Then you’re not going to be my date.

Oh god, I hate
Myself.
I think I’ll stay home with my cat.
He’s my best friend and he barely likes me.

Soon, I’m back on Grindr.
I’m feeling so alone, I’ll try to be a little kinder.
To my surprise
There’s a message waiting,
Asking “r u free 2nite?”
The text speak makes my skin crawl
Although, the sender looks alright.

But here’s my view:
If you can’t tell a to
From a too,
Or a two,
Then I’m not too in to you.

And whilst we’re on the subject,
‘You’ is a three letter word –
You don’t need to abbreviate!

Oh god, I hate
Myself.
I think I’ll stay home with my cat.
He’s my best friend and he barely likes me.

Now
I don’t know how to reply.
Maybe I’ll sign out for the night.
It’s a shame because he looked like my type:
Chubby and cute,
A little shy.
And so damn fuckable!
I should just move past it all.
He’s only 5 kilometres away.
There’s not much choice in this dead-end town
If you’re gay.

Now
He’s sent me a picture
And his cock is so much bigger
Than mine
(Not that it’s difficult).
It’s just not what I was expecting.
I’ll admit, it’s kind of depressing
Intimidating.
I’ve been on this app for hours, constantly refreshing.

That’s why I hate
Myself.
I think I’ll stay home with my cat.
He’s my only friend and he barely likes me.
I mean, why would he?
You’ve seen the best of me.
It’s not pretty.

But at least I’ve got my books.

Reeled In – Friday Fictioneers

Time for another Friday Fictioneers entry. The challenge is to write a 100-word story in response to a weekly photo prompt chosen by our host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Follow the link to her blog for more information. Thank you to all who take the time to read, like, or comment.

I wrote a nice one! It felt strange.

2019 03 20

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Reeled In

They raced to each new ride like children, laughing breathlessly and unashamedly.

He celebrated her victory at Test Your Strength as enthusiastically as his own at the Coconut Shy, and took the passenger seat in the Bumper Car without complaint.

They shared pink candyfloss. He listened as much as he talked.

She’d agreed to the date on a whim. Unsure at first, she surmised that if it didn’t work out, there were plenty more fish in the sea.

Now, as the coloured lights reflected in the pools of his eyes, she knew one thing: the other fish could keep swimming.

The warmth of human kindness – Friday Fictioneers

Time for another Friday Fictioneers entry. Sometimes early,  sometimes late,  but rarely on a Friday! The challenge is to write a 100-word story in response to a weekly photo prompt chosen by our host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Follow the link to her blog for more information. Thank you to all who take the time to read, like, or comment.

2019 02 08

PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

The warmth of human kindness

It only won the Oscar because of the subject matter, she types. Another film about some gay kid from a minority background. It’s just sooo boring!

Her comment is one amongst thousands, but having a voice is important.

Later, by the fire, she watches a Romantic Comedy more to her taste.

Meanwhile; a Pakistani girl sleeps knowing she cannot attend school tomorrow; an African-American youth is gunned down by police; a British transgender teen cuts the hated body that doesn’t fit; and twenty Chechen homosexuals are abducted from their homes, never to be seen again.

And it’s all so boring.

Rust – Friday Fictioneers

Time for another (late) Friday Fictioneers entry. The challenge is to write a 100-word story in response to a weekly photo prompt chosen by our host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Follow the link to her blog for more information. Thank you to all who take the time to read, like, or comment.

2019 01 25

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Rust

I’m fascinated by rust; how it relentlessly consumes its host like a disease. It’s cool to know that something as strong as metal has a weakness.

My brother’s screams are becoming frantic. I’ll keep him trapped in the trunk a little longer. I’m already in trouble; he’ll go snitching to Mum for sure.

I consider leaving him. The woods are vast; the abandoned car well hidden. I imagine grief oxidizing my family, and wonder how it would feel to be devoured by guilt.

I won’t. Leave him, I mean.

Must be love or some shit. Biggest weakness of them all.

The Bitterness of Winter – Friday Fictioneers

New Year, New Me, and all that nonsense! I’m back with another Friday Fictioneers entry. The challenge is to write a 100-word story in response to a weekly photo prompt chosen by our host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Follow the link to her blog for more information. Thank you to all who take the time to read, like, or comment.

Apologies for my tardiness in responding to comments in 2018. They were all appreciated, some more than you know. I aim to improve on my reciprocity this year.

2019 01 19

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The Bitterness of Winter

It was the cast iron radiator that did it. Or was it the bitterness of winter? Caught between those two opposing extremes, the single pane of glass stood little chance.

I noted that the resulting cracks formed the outline of a woman.

“Well it doesn’t look like me,” Mum said. “It must be some other woman.”

She looked at Dad. He looked away.

“Fetch some tape,” he said. “We’ll patch it up for now.”

The seasons changed but the cold remained. I don’t know why they stayed together. A thing doesn’t have to shatter for it to be completely broken.

Everything – Friday Fictioneers

Hello again! I’ve been in the midst of a creative drought recently. However, I’m back today with another Friday Fictioneers entry. The challenge is to write a 100-word story in response to a weekly photo prompt chosen by our host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Follow the link to her blog for more information. Thank you to all who take the time to read, like, or comment.

2018 12 07

PHOTO PROMPT © Dawn M. Miller

Everything

When a train enters a tunnel, everything changes: light; sound; pressure.

Everything.

As a passenger, you’re never sure how long this change will last.

It’s like depression.

I should know: I’ve been through some fucking tunnels on my journey. Still, it’s nearing its end.

I think about death a lot. Not morosely. I mean, we all start to die as soon as we’re born. Some of us simply get there a little quicker. Before it’s my turn, I want to be completely honest with someone, just once. That’s why I’m making this journey.

To see him,

And tell him,

Everything.