Friday Fictioneers 11-5-2021

PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

“How many things are in the circles?”

Katie counted. “Four.”

“There are four things in this circle and this circle, but what about this circle?”

Again she counted. “Five!”


“What about this?” she asked, picking up the matchbox truck.

“Where would that go?”

Katie placed the truck on Santa.

“How about here?” he put the Matchbox truck on top of the Lego truck. “They are both trucks.”

Katie paused, then shook her head. “No. Santa’s truck.”

“He must have a lot of toys to deliver to need a big truck like that.”

“All for me!”

Friday Fictioneers 10-22-2021

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Field

Sam glanced down at the table, the scattered remains of their lives abandoned among the discards and empty dishes. She hadn’t touched her water and he was leaving half a beer.

He’d never go home again except to get his suitcase.

Amicable was a funny word. He didn’t understand how to leave her behind like a friend. She wasn’t a friend and maybe that had been the problem all along. Maybe if she’d been a friend he’d fight to save whatever remained. As it was, he had no fight left in him anymore.

Stepping to the street, he raised a hand for a taxi and was gone.

Friday Fictioneers 10-15-2021


Jeanette stepped off the tram, rushing to keep up with Harriett.

“I want the white pony!” Harriett yelled, racing for the merry-go-round.

“Hold up,” Jeanette ordered, taking the little girl by the arm. “First we need to buy you a ticket.”

“One please,” she said at the ticket-window.

As soon as she was free, Harriett ran for the white horse and clambered on board.

Standing to the side, Jeanette smiled at a man waiting with a wheelchair. Both their smiles said, ‘little girls. And ponies.’

If only the ponies weren’t just for little girls.

Friday Fictioneers 10-8-2021

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

“This is the place to get music,” Rob said, stopping in front of the small store.

“I don’t know. It looks a little eclectic.”

“That makes the music all the better.”

“Usually it just makes the music weird.”

“Come on in and see,” Rob invited, opening the door with the inviting twinkle of a bell.

Once the man as eaten by the Thing in the basement, Rob accepted a small purse of coins.

“Pleasure to do business with you as always,” he said with a wave, heading back out the door. Tomorrow would be another day.

Friday Fictioneers 10-1-2021

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The swell entering the church began to die down and yet I still hung on the edges. I didn’t need to sit down to feel the watershed of disbelief which overwhelmed me even now, months after she passed. We were going to grow old together, sitting on a beach somewhere or maybe in the mountains. Reading and writing. Playing.

Maybe she is waiting for me now.

Friday Fictioneers 9-24-2021


Joe walked off the elevator to the front door, stood for a moment looking out into the cold. He’d never done this before, obviously, and he wasn’t sure how things would work out. Stepping outside, he set off down the sidewalk, coat wrapped tightly around his body. He didn’t want to be late.

Later that night, he sat in his room, nursing a drink. The phone rang twice and then fell silent. Finishing his drink, he headed out to drive home. He didn’t want the kids to be the ones to find her.

Friday Fictioneers 9-17-2021

PHOTO PROMPT © Krista Strutz

“Wow, look at that,” Suzy whispered.

The Eagle watched with hooded eyes.

“He’s huge,” Bob agreed, bobbling slightly on his board.

“Don’t fall. You’ll scare him.”

“Nothing would scare him.” How could anything scare an eagle?

Suzy allowed herself to drift. She’d never been so close to a wild bird before, especially an eagle. Something about it made her feel a little wild and fierce inside.

They eventually paddled away from the bird, continuing their journey around the bay, both agreeing this was the best part of the trip.

Friday Fictioneers 9-10-2021

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Jay looked out the hotel window, watching the tractor pulling the hay bales wind through the narrow streets. Somebody would be eating well this winter, or so he assumed. What he knew about farming could fill the proverbial book.

Chris would know. Chris was the farm boy of the bunch. Or Kerry. But Chris was off doing third or fourth sound checks and Kerry was asleep. It really didn’t matter. He was just bored.

“Saw a shitload of hay,” he told Chris later.

Chris burst out laughing. “You really need something to do don’t you?”

Jay shrugged. “That would be good.”


“I’m there.”

Friday Fictioneers 9-3-2021


The creek was wide and shallow, splatter-dappled with shade. Once Ringo found his way there, he knew his troubles were over. He splashed half-way across, listening to the distant bay of the hounds. Once he slipped their noses, he’d have no trouble slipping the law-enforcement on his trail. He started moving up the middle of the stream, careful not to disturb the larger rocks scattered along the bottom.

The crack was loud in his ears. Arms wide spread, he fell forward, baptized by blood and water.

Friday Fictioneers 8-27-2021


“Welcome to the Bike Hotel.”

I was almost, one-hundred percent sure, he’d made this up. Until now. Looking at the bike on the outside wall. Well, there was always inside.

Which – to my surprise – had bikes everywhere. At the check-in desk. By the bell-boy. (Did he ride your luggage to your room?) In front of the Bike Cafe. And in the room. Bicycle headboards. Ironing boards. Pictures on the wall.

He had actually been telling the truth. Stripe-me surprised.

“What do you think?”

“It’s great.”

“Wait till you see the Disco Ballroom!”

I’m pretty sure, ninty-nine percent, he’d made this part up.