Response – JSW Prompt 4-1-2019

Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response between 200 – 250 word (recommended, not law). You can write a story, poem, essay, anything which strikes your fancy! Link your work back to this post so people can read it.


Writing prompt

They  had taken everything, more than everything, leaving him with nothing but a bent and broken soul. He hadn’t missed the things at first, not for a long time, and when he had it was too late. From then on, nothing made sense, nothing remained, nothing mattered. His was the reflection of emptiness behind stolen eyes.

He stood on the bridge over the river, staring down at the dark memory of dark water.

Spread his arms and fell forward like a broken bird, remembering flight.

 

 

 

JSW Prompt 4-22-2019

Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response between 200 – 250 word (recommended, not law). You can write a story, poem, essay, anything which strikes your fancy! Link your work back to this post so people can read it.

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Friday Fictioneers 4-17-2019

PHOTO PROMPT Dale Rogerson

He approached the black garbage bag. Police officers weren’t supposed to be afraid, but the recent murders went beyond his understanding.

It was a small bag, so a child.

Stepping across the street and into the snow bank beyond, he slit the plastic, turning his eyes away from the gore bound to spill across his sturdy black shoes. Please, please, please don’t let the child be disemboweled, but he didn’t believe in God, not after all these years.

He looked back, plastic plates and cups scattered around his feet.

He began to cry.

 

Friday Fictioneers 4-17-2019

PHOTO PROMPT Ronda Del Boccio

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The fires were burning now, popping up in various places in the valley below. Soon her prey would be flushed and it would be over. And yet, nothing came and nothing came and nothing came.

She moved into the valley, determined for this to end. The fires, no longer hers, flashed to life, surrounding her in an instant. And beyond, nothing’s eyes, and nothing’s eyes and nothing’s eyes.

Sunday Photo Fiction 4-17-2019

Steampunk
Photo Credit:Susan Spaulding

Sunday Photo Fiction


 

“It don’t think this is right,” Nathan said, leaning so far back, eyes searching the balloon above them, Bridgett thought he might fall out of the basket. “Are you sure this is where they told you to come?”

“Yes,” she replied, the same answer she had been giving for the last two hours. “At 1410 the lattice-work will open and we’ll float up into the atmosphere.”

He straightened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“This isn’t some sneaky trick by the enemy to take us out?”

“Really? Are you that paranoid?”

“No.” But he was. “So what happens then?”

“The space ship collects us, mission complete.”

Nathan frowned. “I don’t like it.”

“What could go wrong? Stop being a worry-wart.”

He didn’t say anything, but there were a lot of things which could go wrong and he thought he knew them all.

A moment later, she slipped over the side of the basket. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

He looked at his watch. “But… it’s 1400.”

“I’ll be back.”

At the bottom of the rope ladder, she stood, watching the lattice-work open and the balloon float upwards.

Space ship; really? She laughed.

 

 

JSW Prompt 4-15-2019

Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response between 200 – 250 word (recommended, not law). You can write a story, poem, essay, anything which strikes your fancy! Link your work back to this post so people can read it.


The Ten List: April 8th, 2019
Image from pinterest.

Sunday Photo Fiction 4-8-2019

CE AYR 3
Photo Credit: C.E. Ayr

Sunday Photo Fiction


He sat on the ledge of the support column, watching the water rushing beneath his dangling feet. He wasn’t sure, now he was here, if he could actually do it, but it had been hard enough climbing down. He would be dead, not because he wanted to die, but because he couldn’t climb back up.

Irony, something his family would never understand. Mike might, but then he understood more things in his world than the real world. And this was definitely not the real world.

He laughed, a strange and hollow sound.  This felt like one of those dreams where you fall forever and never hit ground. Or where something is chasing you, but you can’t run.

What was he trying to escape? Life in this boring town? A drunk mother and an absent father, thing his friends though were cool because he could do whatever he pleased.

He looked up, but the supports seemed to be growing taller and taller and taller, dark against the blue and white dappled sky.

In the dream, he rose, staring down at the swirling water, mesmerized, one foot inching towards the edge.