#FF: Bygones

from-amy-reese
© Amy Reese

FridayFictioneers (#FF)

This week’s 100-word story is inspired by this photograph provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

BEWARE: This week’s story is rather grim. Not my usual style but, hey, nice to try something different.


A dark pool of congealed crimson spread from the under the cold steel door.

“No!” Sara screamed.

The security guard struggled to gain his footing as he skidded around the corner, gun held in position.

“In there!”

The guard stared at the glistening mass on the floor as he grappled at the keys jangling from his waist.

The door slammed open with a sickening thud.

Harry lie face down. Dianne slumped in the corner, a gaping hole in her left temple, the gun still held tight.

Sara slumped to the floor. So much for she and Harry moving on.

~~~

#FF: A dish served… frozen

 

from-roger
© Roger Bultot

FridayFictioneers (#FF)

This week’s 100-word story is inspired by this photograph provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

 

The chandelier’s crystals gleamed like chunks of ice casting their reflections across the ballroom. Miss Strandforth glided down the spiral staircase, looking like a sweet confection at the county fair.

Her frosty blue eyes gleamed as she sought out Randall Cranston across the room. Her smile could melt the polar icecap.

Little do they know the wintry blood that runs in her veins. She’s a girl who gets what she wants. And she wants the same things I do.

Cecilia’s hands folded into tight fists around her canes, remembering the day Clementine Strandforth pushed her down these cold marble stairs.

~~~

#FF: Men don’t ask for directions

shaktikiff2
© Shaktiki Sharma

FridayFictioneers (#FF)

This week’s 100-word story is inspired by this photograph provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Apologies to the men out there this week. No offense intended. When I first looked at this photo, all I could think of was a renovation project gone wrong.


Duke returned from his truck to find Marvin still standing in the same spot staring at the studded wall.

“Hey, Buddy. Know what you’re doin’?”

“Well, no. Not really. You ever tried to put drywall on a curved wall?”

“Um… no. Maybe we should call someone.”

“Like who?”

“I dunno. You must know someone who knows how to do this. An expert maybe?”

“Yeah…. No. We can figure this out.”

“So… where do we start?”

“Well, I heard this guy say once…. Nah, that won’t work.”

Duke tilted his head and stood back. “We could try….”

“What if you put….”

~~~

Mind Dance

dsc_0421_sm
© Penntonic.wordpress.com (Caerlynn Nash)

Thoughts meander
like a stream through the woods.
A moment of sunlight,
A moment of shadow
Cast by the tallest trees.
A clear cool spring,
Bubbling over
Or standing still.
Deep dark pools.
Swirling leaves
In eddies
Among the fallen trees.
Nurturing all that grows within.
Reflecting all that is around.
Thunder clouds and
Wispy bits of angel wings.
Feathers that float on high,
Carried by breezes
To places yet unknown.

~~~

#FF: Nothin’ fancy

sewingmachine_sandracrook
© Sandra Crook

#FridayFictioneers (#FF)

This week’s 100-word story is inspired by this photograph provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.


Don’t know why they called it a Singer, ‘cause it sho’ wouldn’t sing for me. I jumbled up more outfits ‘n I care t’ remember. My fingers still got callouses from jammin’ ’em under the needle or tryin’ to pry out them balls of thread from a messy seam.

Ma could make it sing though. When we was little, she done beautiful clothes at the factory.

Worked long hours, she did, ‘n’ always come home tired. Never had much time for me and Jemmy, but we always had food on the table and, of course, decent clothes. Nothin’ fancy mind you.

~~~

Exploring the past to find the future.