Tag Archives: Relationships

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

Caroline 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.

The Well of Eternity

This week’s Friday Fictioneers’ photo-prompt takes us for a stroll through the woods, and we discover an abandoned cabin covered in moss. Interesting.

Read other story contributions here.

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

The Well of Eternity

There it is, “Die Quelle der Ewigkeit.”
Mary looked at John, his eyes ablaze with excitement.
One mouthful of the water in the hut ensures eternal happiness for life.

They bumbled around these woods for days, searching for the mythical source. 
She gritted her teeth. She expected a romantic weekend, perhaps even a proposal. 

John scooped up a handful of water, refreshingly cool, gasped, choked, and dropped onto his knees. ‘Mary.’
Her mother’s warning sparked Mary’s thoughts. “He’s a lunatic.”

Panic battered her heart.
No! she screamed and pointed at the sign.

John gasped for breath, collapsed, and died. 

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. 



Dreaming of Hollywood

This week I have posted a piece of poetry, a villanelle.

It reminds me of sitting in a hot, dark bar in San Salvador wondering why was I there. At the time, the country was in turmoil with rumours of a civil war.

Cottonbro – Pexel.com

Dreaming of Hollywood

When we met in September’s heat one lonely night.
They were playing soft Jazz in the Bertolt Brecht bar
Where she was sipping mojitos under a flickering light.

She licked her sulky red lips, her dress smooth and white
She asked me to drive her somewhere, anywhere not far
When we met in September’s heat one lonely night.

The jazz switched to Latin and couples were holding tight
I said let’s Salsa and away from drinking at the bar
Where she was sipping mojitos under a flickering light.

She uncrossed her legs, her bare thighs flashing in the light
What happened here? And she caressed my facial scar
When we met in the September’s heat one lonely night

I said, it’s a reminder over a woman I lost in a fight
We could go to a room, she smiled and I lit up my cigar
Where she was sipping mojitos under a flickering light.

She purred, and asked me politely to pay for her flight
As she spoke of her dreams of being a Hollywood star
When we met in September’s heat one lonely night
Where she was sipping mojitos under a flickering light.

Every Child Deserves a Mother

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers

This week’s picture reminds me of Ernest Hemingway’s six-word story;

“For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Every Child Deserves a Mother

Damn, how Malcolm preferred the office than coming home. He kicked a box out of his way. The City garbage strike was a health hazard.
Then he saw it. Hell! Mary has flipped. Another of her tantrums since the IVF failed, and for the last time. Dr Nolan said it was pointless.
Malcolm suggested adopting a baby girl. No, she wouldn’t listen to him.
In the flat, the aroma of baking eased his tension as Mary pecked his cheek in a gregarious mood.
‘Oh, Malcolm. I’ve decided to adopt.’
‘Then, why throw out the chair?’
‘Because Charlie is three already.’

Riding the Rails Home

Friday Fictioneers -Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Read more stories here.

Riding the Rails Home

Brad grabbed the ladder and jumped onto the rung. He pulled himself onto the wagon. He swung the rucksack off his back and sat.
Freight-hopping was not comfortable, but the airports and rail stations were under surveillance by Grego’s thugs.
He felt the USB stick in his jacket pocket as reassurance. His undercover duty was over and tomorrow he will resign from the FBI.
He thought of baby Rosanne who had not seen for two years. She will walk and talk now and likely not recognise him.
Carla wants a divorce. He said no.
Hell! They need the money.

Abandoned Baby Wrapped in a Coat

“I was found wrapped in my mum’s coat – but who am I.”

Today, I was enthralled by the story of Mr Tony May, who, as a newborn, was found wrapped in a coat on the Victoria Embankment by the River Thames, London, in December 1942.

His adoptive parents assumed he was an abandoned GI baby, and it was not until 70 years later that Tony discovered the truth.
“Tony thought he was the result from a liaison between a British woman and an American GI. It’s estimated that about 22,000 children were born in this way between 1942 and 1945.”
Family history and genetic identity are subjects of great curiosity for many people who crave to know the past about their family and relatives. There is a sense of satisfaction they feel when they can complete a family tree and learn about their own personal history.
Genealogist, Julia Bell, was successful in tracking down many American servicemen as the fathers of the GI children left behind in the UK. She took up Tony May’s quest as a challenge since he didn’t know who his mother was, or his father.
In Mr Tony May’s case, the discovery of his biological parents and circumstances of his birth was a revelation and, in many respects, a sad story.

You can read the full story by Claire Bates on the BBC web page.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/stories-53447901

 

Conquer Your Fears

Friday Fictioneers – rochellewisoff.com

Read more flash-fiction from Friday Fictioneers here.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

Conquer Your Fears

John’s birthday surprise left her speechless. In shock, Lynda climbed into the balloon’s basket; her shoes caught on the step. Her mind was screaming for excuses. Why did he have to sell his motorbike?
Lynda screwed her eyes closed and gripped the rail as if fused to the metal. Sweat dripped over her brow, and champagne bubbles churned in her stomach.
The engines’ roar and the swaying movement made her legs tremble.
‘Look,’ shouted John.
She peeked and saw her Mum waving. She relaxed and thought, this is okay. The balloon juddered; she vomited her champagne and caviar over John.

The Pleasure of Food

Friday Fictioneers – hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

More fllash fiction stories from the group – here.

The Pleasure of Food

A sneaky snack while she waited. Laura licked some prawn sauce off her thumb as she heard the elevator start up; Melvin has arrived at last!
She checked in her hand mirror and wiped the crumbs from her chin.
She smiled, where will he take her tonight. Antonio’s does a great Lasagne, and their raspberry ripple you could die for, besides Tony’s a teaser.
Melvin appeared with a stern, disappointed look on his face.
Was it going to be one of those nights?
What now!
He stared at the food wrapper.
He is such a stickler about her petty pleasures.

Young Ones Get Married

Friday Fictioneers 100 word story – Hosted by Rochelle.

Read more great 100 word stories – based on the photo prompt – enjoy.

Proclaimers – Let’s Get Married.

Young Ones Get Married

“Remember our nights in the Barrowland Ballroom. It was wild jigging and dancing. We went mad when Lulu sang ‘Shout’ and then there was ‘Let’s Twist Again.”.’
‘Oh Jack, you were lapping around me like a puppy.’
‘Ten times asking; are you dancing? You said not on your nelly.’
‘Bugger off, I said.’
‘We were wild, rocking around the floor, – everyone watching.’
‘What went wrong, Jack? Look at us.’
‘Fifty years, and they’re still watching.’
‘Aye, and I am still waiting. Are you asking?
‘Oh Maggie, enjoy the moment.’
‘Jack! It’s our tune “Let’s Get Married”.’
‘Yes, I know.’