Newsreader Lost for Words

With so much high profile news this week, I think Rochelle’s prompt contribution is fortuitous.

Read the other Friday Fictioneers contributions here.

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Newsreader Lost for Words

John gripped the barrier. Will he jumble the words like last time?
He wished he wore a clean shirt as sweat was gathering under his armpits.
Oh, no! He wasn’t wearing his favourite blue dotted tie, his lucky charm.
Yesterday, he spilled coffee over it as he reported the terrorist attack in Spain.
Concentrate. He can do this, he has to be professional. 

The train blast kept replaying in his mind.
The image of those poor, poor children and his distraught sister screaming had kept him awake throughout the night.
Traumatised, he clung onto the cold barrier.
Lost for words.

Paperless Office

Remember the office days with paper and files kept in dusty rooms and cabinets.
When people borrowed your pen, just for a second, and you never saw it again.
Those were the days before management demanded efficiency and screen time took over.
There is no turning back.

Friday Fictioneers 100 Word Stories

PHOTO PROMPT @ Jan Wayne Fields

Paperless Office

It’s those little things I miss, like fiddling with paper clips while I study company reports. Opening bursting folders and laying out charts and graphs all held down with rocks I brought back from a picnic.
We were people then and you my gregarious secretary.
We once sat by the Thames and drank Bollinger while eating salmon sandwiches for lunch. 
I asked, and you said yes.

We grew as business partners and you travelled the globe in executive jets.
Apart, our love became metamorphic in Cyber Space and on Zoom.

Siri recommends picnic rugs.
It’s those little things I miss.

Hugs for Christmas

In this weeks Friday Fictioneers I have added some humour, just what we all need at this time of the year.

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Hugs for Christmas

Oh Sandra, just look at him. Poor, poor Worzel.
I think I know what he wants.

A brain, Mary. That’s what all scarecrows want?
And he has one of those faces, it reminds me of the ‘Elephant Man.’

Do you think if I kiss him, he’ll turn into a handsome prince?

I take it back, Mr Worzel, it’s Mary who needs the brain.
Where are you going?

Oh Sandra, there is something I really need. 
Look at him, he is so inviting. 
I’m going to hug him and hug him.

Yes, wait for me, Mary. I need a hug too. 

New Year’s Angel

Wishing you all a very prosperous and happy 2021.

Photo from Pixabay.com

New Year’s Angel

Peacefully sitting beneath the mistletoe
Reflecting on the year just passing by
Feelings like a last candle burning low
Thoughts as dark shadows across the sky
And the mistletoe whispers in a breath of air
As if an angel came and kissed me there.

Peacefully nodding under the mistletoe
Floating in a warmth of hope filled dreams
Bright ecstatic friends in a cheerful smiling glow
Enthusiastic embraces with jokes and promises
As the mistletoe rustles in a bright new year
And you, my angel, will always kiss me there.

Keep Your Dreams Alive

This week’s photo-prompt for Friday-Fictioneers inspires a moment of reflection, a moment of personal pride for the main character for a life well spent.

More Friday-Fictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Keep Your Dreams Alive

We were ten-year-olds huddled in a spinning Alice In Wonderland cup at the fairground.
Martha, my sweetheart, kept our dream alive, and we created Dolly’s Amusement and Theme Park.

Just one last look.
Early morning, quiet, and I feel so proud for the pleasure people get from our dream.
Soon, excited children and anxious dads goaded and dared to a ride on the Hell-Coaster will arrive.

We did good, Martha had said. She is calling me.

It is time. 
I feel my soul discard this body as I journey free and home to the other side.
Is that you, Martha? 

The Disappearance of Lady Jane

This week’s photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers is devoid of distraction
and leaves a lot to the imagination.

Read more contributions here.https://fresh.inlinkz.com/party/291a2425200f45e395115119d9f64fd8

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

The Disappearance of Lady Jane

‘It’s a message, Watson.’ He blew a cloud of hashish smoke.
‘Lord Carmichael will refuse the ransom.’ Watson spluttered. ‘Do you have to?’
‘Oh, there’ll be no demands.’ Holmes shrugged. ‘The infusion enhances concentration; try it.’

‘Surely the kidnappers know of his Lordship’s wealth.’
‘My dear Watson.’ He grinned. ‘Look, what do you see?’
‘They dropped a cord.’

‘Lady Jane is an eccentric intellectual and a fanciful romantic.’
‘Holmes! She is in mortal danger.’

‘The symbol eight; love and infinite wealth.’ Holmes smiled.
‘A Pearl of the East and a paper boat.’ He laughed. ‘Lady Jane has run off to Hong-Kong.’

Marriage Requires Trust

Another week of Friday fictioneers. Here is my 100 words on the photo-prompt. I hope the lady in the picture has recovered.

Read the other contributions here.https://fresh.inlinkz.com/party/baac8196d00f411bbfadcfe2b1329a6c

PHOTO PROMPT © Susan Eames

Marriage Requires Trust

I enjoyed the view from the hotel balcony; people watching.
A glorious evening, and I watched lovers strolling.
Hell!
I rushed down the stairs two at a time. Sprinted across the promenade.‘John,’ I screamed. ‘John.’ I leapt onto the beach. ‘Debra!’
I tripped in a castle moat. The pain shot through my ankle.
My mouth filled with sand, and I spat and cried.
A poodle licked my ears until the owner came to help.

Three hours later, John gasped, looking at my bandages. 
‘Let’s enjoy our honeymoon,’ he said and opened the Champagne.

‘Where’s Debra?’
He dropped the bottle.

Achromatopsia and the Train Driver

This week’s contribution to Friday Fictioneers.

Read more click the link.

https://fresh.inlinkz.com/party/3a3055a6087f47a5a4486e40d31e11f8

Photo by Sarah Potter

Achromatopsia and the Train Driver

The chimney’s shadow on the lawn signalled gin time.
Yahoo! Charlie mixed the drink with tonic and lemon; his hands were shaking and his pulse raced. He needed this rush to suppress his anxiety and to relax.
The DTs were horrific at night, locked in his room.
Before the programme he drank two full bottles a day to work coherently.
It was unfair of Amtrak to fire him; hell, those modern trains drive themselves.
He shouldn’t have said that, but it was the colour test that found him out.
Being an alcoholic is not as easy as black and white.

What Are You Afraid Of?

The Friday Fictioneers photo prompt this week reminds me of Christmas. I wonder what Christmas will be like this year?

https://rochellewisoff.com/2020/11/11/11988/

More contributions can be found by following this link: https://fresh.inlinkz.com/party/b367814aefe84ae19ce5ae8e474dac5f

What Are You Afraid Of?

Everyone is in hiding, that is what we are told to do. Hide.
At night it is worse than ever.
It’s an unseen enemy, but I can sense them; watching, waiting, wanting to invade my body.
I must fight back, as I did in Korea, for my country.
Well, I am watching them too; the specks of lights hovering, menacing, grouping, slowly surrounding me.
Wear masks, that is what we are told. I don’t recognise myself anymore, or anyone. Who is who?
I can’t stand this confinement, I need fresh air and freedom.
I am going out, I’ll show them.

Table by the Window – Gothic Princess Lost in Time

Literally Stories have aired my short story as one of their Sunday re-runs.
I must thank them. Their site holds hundreds of worthwhile reads from a variety of writers; you may find yourself engrossed for hours. Every read is free or you may wish to contribute your own story for others to enjoy.

Read my story here: https://literallystories2014.com/2020/11/08/literally-reruns-table-by-the-window-by-james-mcewan/

Abigail is the reincarnation of a Gothic Princess – Fantasy