Irrevocably Changed – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Friday Fictioneers time! 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.

2017 06 16

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Irrevocably Changed

He reached for me. I hoped my flinch would be imperceptible. It wasn’t.

“Why won’t you let me get close to you?” He asked.

“You don’t know me,” I said. “I’ve done terrible things.”

He looked at me kindly; not with the scrutinising gaze I expected.

“These things,” he said. “Are you going to do them again?”

“I hope not.”

He pointed towards the full moon.

“Each time we see one of those, the world has irrevocably changed. Become the person you want to be; not the person you were.”

He reached for me again.

I surrendered to his touch.

Landslide – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Friday Fictioneers time! 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.

2017 06 02.jpg

PHOTO PROMPT © Karuna

Landslide

I found the boy alone and afraid, where I knew he’d be. It was the same place I had been found at his age. Same pyjamas too. All those damn Quacks; what did they know?

He dropped his teddy as we evaded the landslide. That was different: mine had survived.

When we were finally safe, he fixed me with a look of pure adulation.

I slapped him, hard.

“You have to break the cycle,” I screamed. “You have to be better.”

I showed him my prison tattoos.

“Don’t grow into me. And if you do, don’t save the next one.”

Out of business – Friday Fictioneers

I’m playing Friday Fictioneers catch-up! Too late to add it to the link-up but I thought I’d write a story anyway – the photo was too good to let go! 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.

2017 05 26

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Out of business

“This place is a mess,” I groaned.

“Yeah, the previous tenants got out pretty fast. Then the bailiffs arrived. Never seen a business go under so quickly,” he chuckled. “You’ll do fine though, boss.”

“You’ll clean it up?”

“Sure!” He flashed me a gold-toothed grin. Sign the lease, pay the deposit: it’ll be good as new.”

I nodded towards the old sign.

The Good News

A positive way to start your day!

“Some kind of hippie newspaper,” the landlord said. “Only printed ‘nice’ stories.”

He cleared his nose and spat.

“Gotta know your market.”

Disappearing Act – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Friday Fictioneers time! 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.

2017 05 19

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Disappearing Act

His legs and lungs were on fire. He’d been running for fifteen minutes and they were still on his tail.

Manhattan was no place for a getaway. So damn busy! He couldn’t ‘port if someone was watching: his power required privacy.

Out of options, he burst through the door of a diner and headed for the restroom.

The cubicles were occupied and the startled man at the sink gawped at him.

Hearing shouts, he ducked behind the door as it was kicked open. It obscured him from view for just long enough. He was gone by the time it closed.

Cain – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Friday Fictioneers time! 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.

2017 05 12

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Cain

The driver responsible for the death of schoolgirl Stephanie Woods was still unidentified. The papers used words like ‘coward’, ‘monster’, and ‘heartless scum’. Cain didn’t see any of those things. He saw a promising student who had just been accepted into university; a teenager, not yet a man, who had made a terrible, life-defining mistake; someone so overcome with guilt and grief that he had barely slept in three weeks. Most importantly, he saw the little boy he had promised to always protect. He saw his brother.

Unblinking, Cain met the officer’s gaze.

“I’m here to confess to a hit-and-run.”

The Pattern – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Friday Fictioneers time! 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.

2017 05 05

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

The Pattern

“I still can’t believe we’re here,” she said. “This is the most romantic thing anybody has ever done for me.”

She kissed me, then looked around again in amazement.

“Aren’t the buildings beautiful? Look at the roof tiles on that one! Such a pretty pattern!”

My heart stopped suddenly, then raced to catch up with itself.

“Baby?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Let’s find somewhere to eat.”

I glanced back as we left. The pattern was just like carpet in the old lady’s house. I tried not to think of her damp eyes; her pleading voice. This vacation hadn’t come cheap.

Lavender and Sandalwood (Part 2) – Friday Fictioneers

The challenge of Friday Fictioneers 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. This week I have written a two-part story in an effort to catch up on recent photo prompts I have missed. This is Part 2. Part 1 can be found here. Thank you to all who take the time to read, like, or comment.

2017 04 28

PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young

Lavender and Sandalwood (Part 2)

She had not lied. She would be with him until the end. That end would come soon: he barely satiated her hunger anymore. With no tears to weep for him, she knelt and kissed the ground, soaking her face in the dew-sodden grass.

Dawn was creeping over the horizon as she plucked at the lavender bush. The sun’s burning kiss was the only thing she could still feel, but she knew she mustn’t linger.

She sprinkled the lavender into the coffin, an ornate sandalwood piece commissioned by a former lover. She was grateful: decay was a difficult scent to mask.