Thursday, January 30, 2014

Burn Baby Burn

Copyright -Claire Fuller

It’s the craving that hits you in the middle of work.  Making you nauseous, dizzy and shaky.  It’s hard to concentrate and irritation sets in.  Carpet making be damned! Who made this rule of no smoking at work?  I don’t care if your pile is produced by techniques similar to those used in making velvet or chenille.  Least interested in your Renaissance architectural and floral patterns. 


I burn with rage and turn to an empty workshop.  I must leave again.  They won’t ever believe my explanation of a spontaneous exothermic reaction.


Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

Friday, January 24, 2014

Castle of Dreams

Copyright – Björn Rudberg
"Let's run away," she whispered.

"Where shall we go?" I moved in closer.

"To an island far away," her eyes sparkled, "With coastal cliffs, cascading waterfalls and lush green plantations."

"And our house?" I asked.

"Will be set in a vineyard with terraced fields of emerald hue."

"Our own Castillo de los Sueños."

"A castle of dreams" she smiled "with a shed to store the wine."

"I want one with a sloping tin roof," I held her hand.

"I grant you your wish," smilingly she closed her eyes.

The Hospital log recorded the time of death at 11:45 PM


Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 99

Friday, January 17, 2014

The Awakening

The white sun casts a light over the swamp.  The creatures are disturbed.  I creep into their dreams at night and the voices tell them what to do.  Leaving behind smells of rotting flesh, vomit, urine, and faeces.  Flavouring their flesh with fear.

How long have I waited for this moment?  Only two hundred years but it seems like an eternity.  Time enough for the fear to subside and the stories to pass into legend.  No more do the parents keep their children away from the river's edge.

The white sun restores me.  The harvest will be good this year.


Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

Wednesday, January 08, 2014

In the Footsteps of Giants

Copyright-Dawn Q. Landau
They say Giants once walked on this earth before their race died out leaving traces behind. Only he remained with his songs of lament by the shore.  A pod of wandering whales went by and spread them across the seas.  Until one day he stood rooted on the spot as his life ebbed away with the tide.  The salty breeze and passage of time eroded what remained.  You can see the outline of his foot where they made a pink tower.  It collapsed after the earth moved.  When the wind whistles through the ruins you can hear him singing again.


Witten for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

Friday, January 03, 2014

Doggone it!

copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
“Quick she’s gone.  Get up there”, I urge him on.

“Great, you have opposable thumbs, yet I climb the trees,” he growls, “Why?”

“Because you are a midget Wookiee that was supposed to protect me,” I reply feeling a tantrum coming on.  Dear Lord not another one, my vocal chords hurt intensely later on, I poop in my pants and that human shoves a pacifier in my mouth.  Next time I choose the life forms.

Abandoned in this primitive planet we await the promised rescue craft.

I hear a distant shout, “Mom that crazy dog is up the tree again.”


Witten for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100