The Wastelands – Friday Fictioneers

‘Sunday Fictioneers’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it but it’s the best I can manage at the minute (I can’t believe I used to get these written on a Wednesday). The challenge, as always, is to write 100 words based on a weekly photo prompt chosen by our host, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Check out her blog for more information by clicking here. This week’s prompt inspired me to write an extract of a little ghost story I’ve had tucked away in the old grey matter since 2008 and was hoping to write in time for Hallowe’en. Maybe next year! But hey, 100 words is a start. Thank you to all who take the time to read, like or comment.

2016-10-28

PHOTO PROMPT © Peter Abbey

The Wastelands

The change in the air was noticeable the moment they stepped onto the bridge. It was frigid yet retained a closeness that was almost insufferable. The faint breeze seemed to carry whispered warnings on its breath.

“We should go back,” she said.

“We’ve come too far, my love,” he replied. “We have to be strong and bear whatever horrors lay before us, for freedom lies beyond. The phantoms that haunt this place feed on human greed. You and I have each other, we want for nothing and will be safe. Trust me.”

“Always,” she said. She could do nothing else.

Advertisements

The odd one out – Friday Fictioneers

Another late Friday Fictioneers entry from yours truly. The challenge, as always, is to write 100 words based on a weekly photo prompt chosen by our host, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Check out her blog for more information by clicking here. Thank you to all who take the time to read, like or comment.

2016-10-21

PHOTO PROMPT © Claire Fuller

The odd one out

“The pebble with the painted face?”

“Why?”

“It’s not as it should be. It draws the eye.”

“An ill-considered and naïve answer.” He replied. “This task requires great awareness and understanding. Perhaps you do not have what it takes to be my student after all.”

Suitably chastised, I begged another chance and was allowed to continue my apprenticeship. It was two years before I attempted a second answer.

“It’s the shelves. The other items are treasures found by your son, before he died. The shelves were built by you.”

A sad smile signalled his approval.

Séance – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Friday Fictioneers time! A bit later than scheduled this week due to working overtime. If only I could write for a living! The challenge is to write 100 words based on a weekly photo prompt chosen by our host, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Check out her blog for more information by clicking here. Thank you to all who take the time to read, like or comment.

2016-10-14

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Séance

He lit two lanterns. One for each of them.

Into three glasses he poured generous measures of 30-year old Glenfiddich. He set one down in front of each lantern and one in front of himself.

“I miss you both terribly.” He spoke flatly into the empty room.

“You know why I had to do it, right?”

The lanterns guttered but stayed alight.

Very deliberately, he poured the contents of the other glasses into his, raised a toast and swallowed.

He snuffed out the lanterns by hand, ignoring how sharply the flames bit into the pads of his fingers.

Siren Lake – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Friday Fictioneers time! The challenge is to write 100 words based on a weekly photo prompt chosen by our host, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Check out her blog for more information by clicking here. Thank you to all who take the time to read, like or comment.

2016 10 07.jpg

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

Siren Lake

For years after his wife had passed away, with their daughter asleep in bed, he would sneak down to Siren Lake: where this world is reflected in the next. There his wife would be waiting, smiling beneath water still as glass. Often she would reach out to him, beckoning him to join her. With tears in his eyes, he would always refuse.

When fever cruelly took their daughter, he found her with her mother: reflected in Siren Lake. Both smiled and reached out to him. Finally ready, he took their hands in his and allowed himself to be pulled under.