Sunday Photo Fiction 1-22-2017

191-01-january-22nd-2017

They changed the name of the City Prison to the County Hotel as if the prisoners were there for the pool and free breakfast. There was a free breakfast, but he really didn’t want it. He didn’t want it at all.

The windows scared the shit out of him. Cells, one on top of another and another, each faced by unbreakable two-way glass, allowing those outside, the Freers, to watch the inmates inside. Every action, every secret, every fist-stroke or caress, exposed.

He dropped his head back. You got out of County Hotel one way – dead. Unless a rich Freer bought you; flesh on the market.

What the hell had he done? Why hadn’t he kept his hands to himself?

The policeman, at the wheel, glanced back. “How old are you, son?”

“Sixteen.”

“Stupid shit.”

The car stopped in the long line of vehicles taking prisoners to their new home. A lock clicked, loud in the silence.

He bolted up, wiping away tears.

The policeman met his eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Don’t let me ever see you again, son, you understand?”

A moment passed. A look. A nod.

Pushing the door open, he ran.

And ran and ran and ran…….

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER: WEEK #22 – 2016 Posted on May 26, 2016

Photo prompt and introductory sentence posted Friday mornings. Include photo prompt with your story. Use of the introductory sentence “I am not staying here, honey.” is optional. All stories should be under 200 words in length.

Challenge closes 11:00 pm Friday, June 3rd.

motel

The sign was weather-worn, all memory of bright lights lost ages ago, caught in the half-forgotten process of fading completely away. It was, by definition, the perfect place to search for the elusive fire salamander.

“I am not staying here,” Cathy pouted.

“We are here to explore, nothing more.” I’d grown accustomed to half-truths and lies when dealing with a ghost. She never seemed to catch on.

“Dry as bone,” Meg, the water hag, moaned from the back seat.

“Least we ain’t soaked no more,” Dan muttered. Water plus ghoul emitted a nauseous stink so we were all thankful for that tiny reprieve.

“Listen up,” I said, raising my voice so Horace could hear from the trunk. “We’re here to see if the reports are true.”

“Not bring in car,” Meg muttered. “Burning asses.”

“Meg.” I caught her eye in the rear-view mirror, nodding towards the pile of pixies asleep on the front seat.

She just snorted.

“If needed we’ll purchase a top-of-the-car storage thing to make a comfortable bed.”

Moans and groans.

I turned onto the overgrown road leading to the motel. As it came into sight, I braked. Nothing left but a charred ruin.

“Too damned late,” giggled Cathy.

Giggles and snorts.

Damn.

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner

Quote For The Day 1-20-2016

“We still hadn’t learned, though, that growing up is all about getting hurt. And then getting over it. You hurt. You recover. You move on. Odds are pretty good you’re just going to get hurt again. But each time, you learn something.” -Jim Butcher

NaNoWriMo – 11-1-2015

This is my first year to participate and I’m excited. I couldn’t decide which project I should use, so I decided to start with a blank sheet of paper and no plans, no ideas, just let the character and the story take me where it will.  So far so good.  I’m interested to see what happens next..

Day 1 – 2009 words

Good luck and enjoy to all those participating.