Friday Fictioneers 12-18-2017

PHOTO PROMPT by Sandra Cook

“And he said, ‘Let there be light,’ and it was so.”

“Working again, huh?”

“I thought I’d try this new concept. Stars-that-need-no-sky.”

“How about egos of epic proportions?”

“Please, this is nothing. Now, the sun, that was heroic. The moon exceptional and stars…what can I say about the stars?”

“And then you had to go ruin it with humans.”

“It wasn’t my best effort. I’ll fix them. Sometime.”

“How?”

“Well, by… I’ll think of something.”

“Why don’t you make so many of those star-doodles, they’ll never see above them. If they can’t look beyond, they’ll have to learn to fix themselves.”

“That might just work….”

 

 

 

 

 


Friday Fictioneers 12-6-2017

PHOTO PROMPT  © Dale Rogerson


A Father’s Love

It’d been years since he’d been inside a school and the ice outside mirrored the cold inside his heart. He’d ruled school, yet lived against a backdrop of emptiness and fear and alienation. He hadn’t known it then, but it was true.

“This is a very serious issue.”

“I understand, however, I seriously doubt Sammy intentionally pointed his pencil at the student’s eye. Five year olds aren’t normally weapon-wielding maniacs.”

“We have to take ever incident seriously.”

“I understand. As do I.”

Taking his son by the hand, they walked out of the principal’s office.

Friday Fictioneers 11-25-2017

PHOTO PROMPT ©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
 

Michael stood in the doorway, staring in at the wreck beyond. What the….?

“Danielle!”

A petite face peered around the door. “Yes?”

His eyes took in the mess again, then turned to her.  “Didn’t I ask you to clean your room?”

“Yes?”

“And it’s not cleaned…. why?”

“I forgot.”

He closed his eyes, just for a second. “Have you remembered now?”

She pursed her lips,  shrugged.  “Maybe.” And disappeared back behind the door.

He walked away.  Daughters…. god’s way of saying you’ve lost all control of your life.

God bless, them.

Sunday Photo Fiction 9-24-2017

Walking in fall was the best, he decided, scuffing his boots through the leaves. He liked the nip in the air, the cold night, the shortening days.

“All right, time to walk on your own,” he said, lifting Andrea off his shoulders and to the ground.

Off she went, tottering and laughing at the crunching leaves.

He hadn’t wanted to take her when her mother died, hadn’t wanted the responsibility. She wasn’t his child, but he was as close to a father as she had ever known.

She tumbled, silent for a moment as if not sure whether to laugh or cry.

His heart melted. A career was a career. This was….

This was….. well, he didn’t know what this was.

Scooping her up, he lifted her above his head, spinning wildly to her shrieks and laughter.

She’d changed something inside of him, something vital, something he’d never wanted but now would never let go.

Dropping her down, he hugged her tight.  “Don’t you worry, baby girl. Daddy’s here forever.”