Tag Archives: Friday Fictioneers

A Matter of Taste

This week’s prompt from Rochelle is a lovely painting of typical dining table condiments.
I hope I have added some spice with my story.

Read more stories from Friday Fictioneers HERE.

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

A Matter of Taste

How much?

The value is in the symbology. 
The famous artist is making a passionate plea to their lover.

I don’t understand. What does it say?

Focus on the condiments, they are always complementary.
The spicey, romantic flirtatious pepper by the flickering candle has an offer of an honest commitment.
See the full clear glass of lemonade.

The sauce is a promise of abundant passion and substantial wealth.
Sensible salt is pondering indecisively (half full glass) between a dying flame and the squeeze of the silky-smooth future.

I expect she said no.

Why?

There’s a pepper top on the salt.

Village Hay and Bread

There is a sense of a peaceful country village in this week’s picture from Sandra.

A place where everyone knows each other and rumours and gossip flourish;
well, everyone wants to know all about you, especially if you have secrets to share.

More stories from Friday Fictioneers here.

Photo Prompt by Sandra Cook

Village Hay and Bread

Marcel drives his tractor through the village, although there are shorter ways to his farm. He stops at the Boulangerie, and it takes ages to collect his bread.

Across the street, Annette rearranges the books in the window of the Librairie, all the time watching for Marcel.

‘Stop it,’ Carole shouts from the till, and then joins her.

‘He’s taking his time.’ Annette checks her watch.

‘Mary-Anne is probably busy with a bun in the oven.’ Carole laughs.

‘Don’t! She’s happily married.’

‘And, she has loved both brothers.’

Marcel appeared; Annette waved.

‘Yesterday, Jacques bought a shotgun,’ said Carole.

‘No!’

Crocodile Love

This week’s picture by Penny appears so peaceful and allows the mind to wander in those warm summer afternoons.

Yet, as I discovered in Roaring Creek Belize, swimming in the water attracts all sorts of creatures, like little fish that nibble and bite!

More from Friday Fictioneers here.

PHOTO PROMPT © Penny Gadd

Crocodile Love

‘There’s one. Oh, it’s gone.’
The crocodile dived, creating a cloud of silt.

Caroline detested John’s profession of photography.
He stopped her from going to the golf course with Jenny. Lovely, soft Jenny.
You’re my wife, John had demanded. Together, we are going croc hunting.
Yes, their problem; together was everything he ordered.

From the boat, she trailed her hand in the water and thought of Jenny.
Sweet, warm-hearted Jenny. Oh, the bliss, when she massaged her legs and kissed–.

‘Look, another one.’ He leaned over the side, snapping away.

‘Careful! You’ll fall in.’ She grinned, rocking the boat.

Infidelity of a Goddess

My first motor bike was a Triumph Bantam 125 and my first car was a Ford Anglia 1200cc. Not surprisingly, examples can be found in motor museums all around the UK. The Transport Museum in Glasgow has on display five models of cars that I once owned over the years. The Ford Capri being perhaps one of the most iconic in its time. The only navigation system in use in those days was the AA Road Map which worked a treat.

This week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt stirs the yearning for the open road. More stories here.

PHOTO PROMPT© Lisa Fox

Infidelity of a Goddess 

This picture reminds me of my Triumph Bonneville and how Diana, her hair whirling from beneath her helmet, would hold on tight.
I loved this feeling as we raced along the roads in the summer.

We’d stop at the Craven Arms for a Theakston’s Best Bitter beer, and afterwards we’d speed to the coast.
Where, among the dunes, we stared at the moon drifting among the stars.

We planned a journey from York to Paris and across Europe to Berlin.

It never happened; instead she ran off with Charlie on his Harley Davidson.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘His is much bigger.’

Treasure Hunt

When I saw this weeks photo prompt from Ted, it reminded me of the saying;

‘Where there’s muck there’s brass.’

So with this idea of reclaiming/recycling old metal, my story is more whimsical than usual.

To read more flash fiction stories from Friday Fictioneers click HERE.

Photo Prompt by Ted Strutz

Treasure Hunt

Colin and Jack unveiled their treasure, a pile of broken auto parts.
Their teacher, Mrs Wilson, smiled, ‘Oh my,’ she said. ‘Where–?’
‘Along the canal path and Bunting’s wood.’
‘Boys, you know it’s Easter, right?’

The class crowded around the items, smirking.
The girls giggled and held up their baskets of coloured eggs.
‘We won. Nah, Nah,’ they chanted. ‘Better luck next year.’

‘Sorry, boys,’ said Mrs Wilson. ‘The Grand Chocolate Egg goes to the girls.’

The boys dragged their cart of junk to Joe’s Yard, where he gave them fifty dollars.
And so, CJ’s Metal Recycle business began.

Our World our Village

Friday Fictioneers.

This week’s picture prompt of a rotting tree stump (provided by Sandra Crook) made me think of orchards and how , at one time, they were the life and soul of many villages along the Clyde valley. An industry that is rooted in the past. However, commercial decline is not the only reason that villages are torn apart–look around the world today.

I have based my story on experiences from Bosnia.

The usual mix of contributions by other members of the group can be found here.

Photo Prompt By Sandra Crook

Our World our Village

As you stare across the wasteland, you can see there was a village here; once.
Point down the valley where the trees were, and people nod and look away.
We remember childhoods learning together and laughing in the classrooms.
In the autumn, families congregated in the orchards, in the wood mills, and harvested the crops.
We were an entwined community of good neighbours, innocent lovers, and with marriages of everlasting bonds.

The fanatical nationalists terrorised us with a medieval past, infesting our streets with their hateful ethnic cleansing.

Today, we stand in silence, holding hands in remembrance of our roots.

A Dash to Freedom

Friday Fictioners, a volume of fiction in 100words.

This week’s prompt is interesting as it reminds me of the many storms and monsoons I have experienced.

If this was a holiday snap, I hope that Brenda’s holiday went well despite the storm and they enjoyed the experience.

You can read other contributions to Friday Fictioneers, here.

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

A Dash to Freedom

Mai Ling ordered black coffee.

The uprooted trees symbolised the turmoil in her thoughts, a burning itch of fire ants on her skin.
The bitter drink aggravated the snake coiled in her belly, a mixture of freedom with the dread of discovery.

Last night’s tempest thundered like a herd of stampeding buffalo battering the hotel with spears of rain, and the window crashed across the room.
She acted on impulse, a frenzied flash of angry until the bedsheets resembled an impressionist canvas of red.

Her cup rattled in the morning quiet.
The train departs at seven and she will travel alone.

Married Bliss

I am amazed how the BMW in Liz Young’s photo-prompt does not appear to have any damage, considering the wall and railings are in pieces.

You can read more Friday Fictioneer’s contributions and stories here.

Photo Prompt Liz Young

Married Bliss

She drives wearing high heels, rummages in her handbag and,
at junctions, if she stops, she has to text the kids.
When we are in the car, she will nag at me.
You missed the kids’ school play and games day–-a crime in her eyes.
The traffic accident held me up. I didn’t get home until midnight.
Apparently, I never liked her Mum. Hell! the poor lady died before we met.

You are wearing the wrong shirt, and Martha will comment on it.

Who is Martha?

Enough! I screamed. I missed the brake. 

“See what I mean,” she said. 



Mai Lai and Nasi Goreng

Lovely picture from Brenda, I can just imagine the onslaught of cooking aroma when the alleyway is bustling with people.

More from Friday Fictioneers here.

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

Mai Lai and Nasi Goreng

Mai Lai turned down the alley. I pulled my scarf across my face and followed her.
There was no one around to disrupt my plan.

Foreigners avoided Kai-Tok’s alleys where I had a meeting with a corrupt official.

A container ship from Mozambique was loading humanitarian supplies at the docks, and the harbour agent demanded a bribe to release the shipment.

He was waiting for us with a steaming bowl of fried rice.
My taste buds exploded.

I confirmed the export documents. Thankyou.
Then Mai Lia cuffed and arrested him.

It was the best Nasi Goreng we have ever eaten. 

A Chance Opportunity

When I opened the photo prompt this week I saw the humour of having such a robust security device.
Yet, I noted the craft in the metal work so my story recognises this skill. Having worked with metal I understand the satisfaction of creating aesthetic pleasing items, no matter how simple they look.

Below the story I have added a crafted bespoke gate, which we fitted for a customer.

My story contribution to Friday Fictioneers reflects how the apprentice system needs resetting in this technological age.

PHOTO PROMPT © Trish Nankivell

 A Chance Opportunity 

Elliot hated the written blacksmith test.
The pen snapped in his hand and he slammed the desk.
‘I’m sorry, sir. It don’t make sense.’ he said and wiped his eyes.

Mr McKay looked over his newspaper. ‘Take your time, lad.’
He watched as Elliot clawed at his hair.
He was the worst-case illiterate and innumerate of anyone in the rehabilitation class.
Words and letters jumbled around in the boy’s mind.
However, he expressed eagerness in his eyes and was a skilled metalworker.

“A last chance,” the judge had said.
“Join honest society and make use of your pilfering hands, constructively.”

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