Tag Archives: Short Stories

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. 

The Guiding Beacon

This week’s photo prompt reminds me of the NATO early warning system domes that once were situated on some of the hilltops.

More stories from Friday Fictioneers inspired by the Photo can be read HERE.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The Guiding Beacon

Mary-Anne gave out sandwiches and coffee from the back of her van to the destitute. She received a licence to expand her enterprise and has added fries and seafood dips.

‘My unique Bubble,’ she says. ‘Well, that’s just storage and an attraction for the town.’

Her assistant sniggered. He maintained the space array beacon hidden by the dome, and his team operated from the sub-terrain control centre.

The Nymerana were creating a network on Earth to guide their people towards safety from the Asteroid shower destroying their constellation.

Humans are naïve, although accommodating, thought Mary-Anne. They taste like scrumptious chicken.

Who Kidnapped Mai Ling?

This week’s picture gives us a flavour of the Far East and memories of Kowloon street markets in Hong Kong, thanks to Roger Bultot.

The variety of stories from the Friday Fictioneer group in response to this Photo Prompt can be read here.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Who Kidnapped Mai Ling?

Mai Ling was waiting at Lantau airport, and she insisted we eat.
She hustled me through a labyrinth of street markets where we ate sweet and sour pork with shrimp dumplings.

The atmosphere was bustling, and in the humidity a wafting of jasmine from her hair interspersed with pungent cooking odours.
We were being observed! I recognised the Chia Tong henchmen. 

In the hotel, she hit me with a pillow and told me to go shower.

When I returned from the bathroom, the door was open.
Her handbag and contents were on the bed and her shoes in the corridor.

Legend of a Green Man

This week’s picture prompt for Friday Fictioneers flash fiction showing an entanglement of trees and their roots is interesting for me. I spent some time trying to determine what the type of tree it was. I came up with–an American Beech or possibly Eucalyptus.

Does anyone know?

More stories from Friday-fictioneers here.

PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young

Legend of a Green Man

Was her motivation greed or curiosity?

Legend tells of a Green Man and of an underground city dripping with gold and silver.
Myth requires the first born in spring as a sacrifice at the roots of the great, grey tree to fertilise the forest and ensure an abundant harvest from our fields.

Everyone in Cronbourne keeps clear of the tree in May and we wear a sprig of silver birch to deter evil.

Martha laughed and went searching for hidden treasure.
We continuously called and heard her mobile ring within the tree.

The autumn harvest was excessively rich that year.

Creepy Landlord

This week’s picture prompt from Roger is inviting, but I sense a hint of apprehension.
However, the CCTV puts my mind at ease.

More Flash Fiction stories at Friday Fictioneers

Creepy Landlord

Not as expected, but the rent is cheap and suddenly available.
Sally checked the agency’s note.
The landlord, Mr Bates, had the keys; she knocked.
It’s the top flat.
She followed him into a tiny room.
You’re beautiful. He scratched his beard.
Sorry!
A pretty view. See the park.
Oh yes, nice.
Is that jasmine shampoo?
She moved to the exit.
No, no, this way.
A dark bedroom with narrow windows, a carpet stain and a new mattress.
He scratched at his neck. Should we forget about this month’s rent?
She smiled. Maybe not, as my boyfriend would kill you.

Journey’s End Pub

This week’s picture, to me, is a reminder of the Burma -Death Railway built with forced labour by the Japanese Army during WW2. It is estimated that 90,000 labourers and 16000 allied prisoners of war died during it’s construction. The brutality of the period reverberates with us still, in books and in films.
One film, The Railway Man, is an adaptation of the account of a British Army Officer, Eric Lomax, captured and tortured by the Japanese. Years after the war Lomax confronts his Japanese counterpart and they become friends. As they say; time heals. Perhaps, but only for some.

My story has nothing to do with that tragic period.

Read the other stories on Friday Fictioneer by clicking here.

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

Journey’s End Pub

Their shift had ended 200 years ago, and the bearded miners packed the “Journey’s End” pub.
The flaming fire warmed the room, but at midnight the atmosphere turned sullen.

John sipped his ale.

Outside, a train screeching to a halt stirred all the men to drink up and leave.
John followed them into a fog of hissing steam that obscured a locomotive.
The miners climbed into the carriages, and the engine pulled away in the dark above dilapidated tracks.
John marvelled at this silver miners’ mystery.

He returned indoors to his bitter ale, and the crowded pub of bearded miners.

Sugar is a Crowd for Salt and Pepper

FridayFictioneers

https://fresh.inlinkz.com/party/4be36d1bd7fa4fbaa8765700bf2c6ef5

PHOTO PROMPT – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Sugar is a Crowd for Salt and Pepper

‘I have something important­ –’
‘Not now,’ said Carolyn, and flashed her new Breitling watch. ‘Meet me at Le-Petite around five.’ She cycled away and tinkled her bell.
‘Still waiting,’ toned Maurice. He lifted my cup. ‘Another coffee?’
‘No.’ I paid him and stared out the window.
Carolyn’s Diamond watch niggled me.

We worked out at weekends in Bros Gym, where people ogled her glowing appeal.
Lately, without an explanation, she would disappear for days. No calls.
Was it my business? I dare not ask.
But today! She was never late.
I was going to New York. Would she come along?

Selkies’ Ceremony – Return to the Sea.

Rochelle’ Friday Fictioneers.

This week I have adopted a mythical idea from Scottish folklore.

http://PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Selkies’ Ceremony – Return to the Sea.

It was the same after every ceremony, but John was glad of the work.

‘How did it go last night?’ he called into the restaurant.

‘Oh John,’ said Morag. ‘Our women were beautiful with glowing complexions and gleaming hair.’

‘Looks like a lot more kelp this time.’

‘You should have been here,’ said Morag. ‘Our families washing in on the high tide with the skins.’ 

‘I understand you leaving with work shutting down.’

‘They played the flute and lyre; so soft, so emotional. I was in tears.’

‘I’ll miss you, Morag.’

‘Aye, I am sorry, John. My ceremony’s on Wednesday.’ 

*****

Photo from Clan Rollo https://sites.google.com/site/clanrolloonlineallthings/home/magical-scotlan/selkies

The Curse of a She Wolf

Friday Fictioneers – hosted by Rochelle Wisoff Fields

Read all the stories  HERE

The wonderful Dale has given us a picture of a garlic string to stir our imagination and taste buds. I understand that the greatest benefit from garlic is to eat it raw in salads. Does anyone really eat the cloves raw?

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The Curse of a She Wolf

Radiant with the beauty of eternal youth, Silvia enchanted a fluttering of men like lavender surrounded by buzzing bees.  Four of her husbands died of broken hearts and the fifth during a moment of rampant ecstasy, and she howled pitiless that night. It was her curse to devour the passion from the souls of men.
In Vulcan, the women called her ‘She Wolf’ and fortified their homes with strings of garlic.
Late afternoons, wearing fine leather and furs, she would ride her sleek stallion to lure a lusting youth.
By midnight, her mourning and howling would haunt the mountain villages.