Friday Fictioneers 7-2-2018

 
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


He sat frowning, frustrated, staring at the small workstation stuck in the corner of the room. It wasn’t like he couldn’t write here, but the lack of space, and freedom, irked his sense of creativity.

Picking up a guitar, he stepped onto the balcony and settled into a chair, strumming softly. Singing softer, words for his ears only.

The sky was bright blue, fluffed with clouds. A breeze nuzzled his hair and, for the first time in days, he was content.

Music rolled off his fingers, words from his tongue. Angels bending down around him, whispering in his ear.

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Response – JSW Prompt 6-25-2018

Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response under 300 word (recommended, not law). You can write a story, poem, essay, anything which strikes your fancy. I will re-blog posts to my site.

An apple a day keeps anyone away if you throw it hard enough.


Truth. Particularly when you core the apple and fill it with lead. Apple bombs, Jason calls’em. Biggest part of our arsenal, but then again, we was squatting on an old apple farm. You learn to use what you have until you have nothing.

Then you run like hell.

(Don’t tell no one I said that last. Don’t want my ass whipped into next Sunday.)

Guess you’ll want to know why we was squatting on the apple farm, lobbing apple bombs at them law folk. Well, they wanted us out. Wanted to arrest Jason. He’s the oldest, 17 now, though he acts more like 7 sometimes.

Can’t blame him. He shot them cows cause we was hungry. Gotta take care of family whether you like’em or not. It’s in the Bible. Least wise, I think it is. Don’t read so good myself.  Susan is the reader, reads to us most nights, just before dark.

She’s next oldest. Almost 16. Old Maid territory, but that ain’t worth mentioning either less I wanna get whipped.

I’m Teddy and I’m ten. Too big to be a baby and not big enough to do the heavy work. So, guess who gathers the apples, makes them into bombs?

Right. I’ve gotten damn good at it. Ain’t cut myself once.

Been awhile since Momma and Pa died. Got the fever both of’em and was gone just like that. Just Jason, Susan, me and the baby. Addie. She’s too young to do anything but burp and poop. Susan takes care of her mostly.

They come after supper, just when dark’s settling over the dying trees and the fallen rocks of the old wall. Weren’t different from any other night. Them lawmen sneaking up, trying to slip into the perimeter.

Perimeter. I like that word. A grown up words, one Pa might have used when he was in the army.

Course, I’m waiting for’em as always. Piles of apple bombs ready to go.

The sky’s pretty tonight. Lots of them stars. Brighter than I remember. Wondering why I’m lying here, looking at stars.

Is it raining?

I don’t feel none on my face, but I can feel the wet on my belly, hands clenched, holding in the rain.

Response – JSW Prompt 6-18-2018

Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response under 300 word (recommended, not law). I will re-blog your post to my site.

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picture by  csknotts

The office was empty, workstations abandoned as if the workers just up and left, taking nothing with them. Lights burning for nobody. No sound anywhere. Not the scuff of a shoe against carpet, the click of keys or the hum of a printer. No phones, no low voices, no laughter or joy.

Only quiet which went beyond silent. The quiet of emptiness, the quiet of lost hope. The quiet of abandonment.

Tomorrow would be Monday, but nobody would come. Nobody was left to come, only a long, dark, slide into oblivion. Dust and the creeping fingers of ivy, back to claim their own.

 

 

JSW Prompt 7-2-2018

Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response under 300 word (recommended, not law). You can write a story, poem, essay, anything which strikes your fancy. I will re-blog posts to my site.

 


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FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- June 28, 2018

The challenge for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner will open early Wednesday morning, June 27th. Allow the prompt to take you anywhere you want to go! (Limit your stories to 200 words.)

This challenge is open until 11:00 pm Thursday night, July 5th, 2018.

 

pexels-photo-626164 shadowPedro Fogueras pexels-photo-626164 shadow

 

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner


It was the nightmare again, always the nightmare, trapped in a gauzy world of nothing on nothing on nothing.  The Notherworld, he called it. A nothing world. Full of nothing. For nothing. For nowhere.

Only for the dream.

As always, he called. Searching. “Maria! Maria!Maria!”

Always answered by the strange silence hung in that land, a silence made of nothing.

Stumbling through a white eternity. The Notherworld wastes. No Santa Claus. Not in the nightmare.

When he woke up in the morning, he was still clutching her teddy bear. Knew she was gone forever.

 

 

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- June 27, 2018

The challenge for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner will open early Wednesday morning, June 20th. Allow the prompt to take you anywhere you want to go! (Limit your stories to 200 words.)

This challenge is open until 11:00 pm Thursday night, June 28, 2018.

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Kai Pilger pexels-photo-462867 Taxi

 

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner


 

Taxi wasn’t his preferred method of travel, but it would do in a pinch. And this was the pinch of all pinches. If he didn’t get there in time, he’d be on the couch for the rest of his natural life.

The taxi driver glanced in the rear-view mirror, but he ignored the look.  Too bad if the man felt threatened. Everybody had a gun these days and most would use them just for the fun of it. He didn’t have time to explain he wasn’t one of those nor did he even own a gun. Let the man sweat. Might get him there faster.

As the cab screeched to the cub, he leapt out, tossing two fifties to the driver. Rushed into the building, collapsing into a chair just as she walked in.

“Almond coconut or chocolate chip?” he asked breathlessly.

To his relief, she smiled.