A View With the Room

PHOTO PROMPT- © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The views, as the agent had described, were stunning.  Words had been bandied about.

Words like “solidly constructed”, “modern liveability”, “sweeping city and rural views” and the kitchen, an entertainer’s delight ”.     

The neighbours were a mile away; “assured privacy” and “reclusive charm”.                                                                                                                      

Different from the inner city living, he had said, but plenty of room for visitors.

Sure, a forty mile drive to the country is all they want to do on the weekend, she muttered to herself.

A dollop of dishwashing liquid in the gravy ought to convince him of the need to be closer to civilization, she thought.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

Another year at the Fictioneer's prompt is about to come to an end, so time to have some fun this week, no darkness maybe some wickedness :-)

To read the tales written by the other Friday Fictioneers click here.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

The Man Inside

PHOTO PROMPT © Luther Siler

I was eight when I met Big Bird for the first time.  Tall, nasally voiced, he moved along our ward, high-fiving children and distributing lollies.

Back home all I did was to recount that visit over and over again.   

“There is a person inside that suit mum.  When I grow up, I am going be that person.”

As I said that my mother smiled and hugged me tightly.

The next time I was discharged my father bought me home.

As I walked inside I saw a Big Bird suit on the floor. 

My mother had spent the week stitching one.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

I thought I'd put an entry in early this week.  It's been a year today since my mother passed away, so it is a mother inspired story, especially as I did spend a fair amount of my childhood in and out of hospitals.  The real man inside the Big Bird suit is Caroll Spinney who has been in that suit since 1969.

To read the tales written by the other Friday Fictioneers click here. 

The Refuge

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

He closed his eyes, clenched his fists and wished for the portal to appear.  When his eyes opened, the dark doors set in the white ivory frame had materialised as always.

 Behind him lay the treacherous bushland with danger in every step that he took.  The scars on his body a grim reminder of the thorns encountered daily.

He stood mesmerised by the lights and the gentle humming of the robotic cars.  It always remained a temporary refuge and how he wished he could stay forever.

“I found the boy inside the cupboard Sir; this time we were too late”.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers (episode 100). Word Count : 100

So now that the hundredth post is over, here is another one for this week.

To read the tales written by the other Friday Fictioneers click here. 

Hundred Miles

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

“If you build it they will come.”

That’s what we all think anyway before starting a new venture.  Asking ourselves whether we will succeed or fail? Of course the actual quote is “If you build it, he will come’”

Which begs the question “Who’s he?”

In my case it was actually the missing reader for this blog.

That was till I started writing in this ‘Friday Fictioneer’ thing.  Sometimes the writing resembles the overgrown weeds but sometimes it shines like a bright light.  But even with the hits and the misses, this is episode 100.

Thank you all for reading.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers (episode 100). Word Count : 100

A bit of a milestone this week.  The hundredth blog post for Friday Fictioneers with the counter now aiming for 200.  There is another entry for this week :-)

To read the tales written by the other Friday Fictioneers click here. 

Sole Survivor

PHOTO PROMPT © C.E. Ayr

So there I was in the park, enjoying a little tipple but must have dozed off.

The midnight gong of the clock tower woke me up.  Out there on the road stood a splendid golden coach, harnessed with six cream colored horses.  The coachman wore a powdered wig and silk stockings.  There were six footmen in splendid liveries.

As the last gong sounded the coach became a pumpkin, the horses transformed into mice and the coachman into a rat.  Six lizards scurried away while a pretty beggar girl, limping in one shoe, ran past crying.

I am never drinking again. 

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers (episode 99). Word Count : 100

A little bit whimsicality this time to get away from the serious stuff.  Hope the Fairy Blogmother approves.

To read the tales written by the other Friday Fictioneers click here. 

War and Remembrance

PHOTO PROMPT – © J Hardy Carroll

My dearest beloved, I do not know if I will make it back home to you and the little one.  This last week we have witnessed horrors undreamt. Even Guruji’s rendition of the great war of Mahabharat had not prepared me for this carnage.  

Yesterday the sky was black with smoke and only a few houses remained standing.  Of the rest nothing was left save their charred shells.

 The young major sahib died in my arms this morning.  He asked that we not to visit him soon but in these times who can promise anything.  Remember me with no regrets.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

Right so I am definitely going to be the last entry this time.  Hoping that it gets accepted by the link.
Last Wednesday was Remembrance Day.  This year 11 November marks the 97th anniversary of the Armistice which ended the First World War (1914–18).  Over one million Indian troops served overseas, of whom 62,000 died and another 67,000 were wounded. In total at least 74,187 Indian soldiers died during the war.

The experiences of the many Indian soldiers who fought in the first world war, that has just been digitised by Europeana 1914-1918 and the British Library.

To read contributions by the other Friday Fictioneers click here. 

Parched Land

PHOTO PROMPT – © Connie Gayer

When the call came he was ready.  Quickly gathering his cap, he and his men stepped out, the driver waiting as he slipped into the front seat while the men clambered into the back.             

They sat in a sullen silence as the vehicle clattered along the road.  The road, set in the rural heartland, taking them past the once busy fertile fields.  In days gone by this would have been the start of the harvest season.       

They found the body in the midst of the parched land, a pesticide bottle next to it, just another farmer who took his life.

**

Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

I have written a fictional version of what is a very sad scenario playing around the world these days.  Small, family farms are closing down all around the world for the past few decades with disastrous consequences for farming families.  According to the National Crime Record Bureau (NCRB) of India, as many as 5,650 farmers committed suicide in India last year. This works out to one farmer suicide in every 100 villages or one farmer suicide in every block in the country last year. One of India's leading newspapers reported this story recently.  In midst of Government apathy this journalist has been documenting these stories.

To read contributions by the other Friday Fictioneers click here. 

Still Waters

© Dale Rogerson

He stood in the first flush of the morning savoring a moment of calm contemplation.  

All that could be heard was the gentle swishing sound of the water lapping softly at the bank of the lake.  The damp smell of the marshy wetlands permeated the air as he watched birds skim over the surface of the lake. 

After a lifetime of work tucked in cloistered rooms he felt a sense of peace as never before.  Popping out hesitantly from the water was the central leg of the swivel armchair and its ergonomic backrest.

The boss fortunately was in deeper waters.

**

Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

Once you see the chair you can't 'unsee' it.  To read what the other Friday Fictioneers saw click here. 

The Travelling Companions

PHOTO PROMPT © Ron Pruitt

I see them huddled together waiting to board the bus.  The big guy with a Stetson, the petite dark haired woman; the couple arguing as the entire group stands pretending not to listen.  The flotsam and jetsam bundled together by the authorities on their way out.

My travelling companions, I see the pity in your eyes for me now.  We are about to embark on a journey of self discovery.  It will be one to remember, an exploration of your innermost desires.  But unfortunately in the end there will be only one survivor. 

I look around and pick one out.

**

Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

Hurrah time to squeeze in an entry for this busy week.   To travel with the other Friday Fictioneers, click here. 

And if you can please do read the two 100 word stories I wrote for Narrator International.  A format that I picked with my Friday Fictioneers journey ;-)

News Flash (Fiction)

I have two flash fiction pieces in Narrator International's Picture It competition

©NarratorInternational

Betrayed

©NarratorInternational

Check Mate












I hope you like them

The Spring Fair

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

I used to love Spring Fairs and merry-go-rounds.  

Delight in the changing seasons and the happy sounds.  Watching young ones clamber up giant inflatable slides, bounce on jumping castles and spin around on rides.  Their smiles, laughter and tender cherubic faces, such love I felt.  I only carried those toffees to spread the cheer. 

You took it away the day you left.  Such acrimonious tales of lies and falsehoods! How could I explain anything to those unfeeling men?  Those images on my laptop I never looked at them the way they did.

You’ve ruined it all, I loved your kids.

**

Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

A return to darkness as I aimed for a disgusting, slimy grovelling voice in this one.

To see the stalls run by other Friday Fictioneers, click here. 

Of Mice and Woman

PHOTO PROMPT – © Marie Gail Stratford

Once upon a time there was a lady who was afraid of mice.  She couldn’t bear to touch them and just thinking about it made her hyperventilate. 

Her children loved these monochromatic rodents.  They held them all day and wouldn’t even come down at mealtimes.  The children were constantly moving the mice around and pressing their backs with one finger.

One day her husband called a man from Piper Computer Services who exchanged the offending mice with blue minty ones instead.  

She loved her new mouse.

Her husband said “To see you suffer so

From vermin, was a pity. “

**

Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

Back home again for the long weekend.  No darkness or musing today.  No one died or got killed, just a silly take on the prompt.

With apologies to Robert Browning

To see what the the other Friday Fictioneers are doing with electronic rodents, click here. 

The Journey of Life

PHOTO PROMPT © The Reclining Gentleman

Sometimes the journey of a thousand miles can have no ending.  At other times a walk around the block can lead you home.

When I started this trip I had no idea what road I’d take.  Would I have the Poet‘s regret for the road not taken or would I bask in glow of my judgements?

 A milestone birthday gone this year but I am still looking for answers in the misty morning haze.   

Each day we struggle, stumble and fall.  But it is still worth it with someone at your side to help you navigate the tricky road ahead.

**

Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

To travel with the other Friday Fictioneers go here. 

Written in an Airport Lounge, travelling back for work after a week when a milestone birthday happened and thus the reflective mood.

The Castle of Dreams

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

It was supposed to be a castle with drawbridges, crenulated towers, battlements and embrasures.  Within this impenetrable fortress would grow an enchanting garden with bluebells erupting everywhere and daisies peeping behind curtains of honeysuckled festooned hedges.

Instead stood a rusting gate with paint peeling off and the dilapidated yard was overgrown with weeds.  The house itself was crumbling from inside, the roof tiles were dangerously loose with the doors and windows broken.

He sits in front of the monitor and reads.  Groaning he deletes all the text and starts typing, this time aiming to build the castle of his dreams.

**

Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

To pass through the Friday Fictioneer's gate and visit their castles of dreams go here. 

There are days when those castles can be seen from a distance, standing strong.  While on other days I feel the need to take a demolition crew and raze those buildings to the ground.  Sanding nervously waiting for visitors, welcome to my abode and please sign on the guest register on the way out.

The Holiday

PHOTO PROMPT – © Jennifer Pendergast

It was early morning when we sighted the sparkling water of the lake.  Dad pulled into the parking spot while my brother and I scampered towards the camping site.  We had barely slept the night before in anticipation.

While we loved swimming in the crystal clear waters there was no better feeling than being in the canoe flitting here and there, across the lake, and breathing in the fragrance of adventure.

It was to be the last time we holidayed as a family.  Later that year Dad moved in with Mrs A, leaving behind promises of future trips together.

**

Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

To row the other Friday Fictioneer's canoe go here. 

Lucky last in my submission this week I think. 

Blogging News

I wasn't expecting to be nominated for anything, least of all a blogger award. I normally happy to get just one comment and this is just icing on the cake. So thank you BlogAdda this is much appreciated. I don't expect to win, being in the company of fellow bloggers is reward enough. If it translates to more readers and comments, that is even better. In the meantime I'll keep on churning out the 100 word stories till the day the longer stories that are floating in my head germinate. And only two days left so if anyone wants to vote, click on the link below and then like it or tweet it to make it count.

Up in the Air

PHOTO PROMPT – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“See that sign on the pole up there?”

“Yes?”

“It’s set in Arial font”

“How do you know?”

“Because it is,” a pause “, floating in the air.”

“Daad! That’s not that funny.  Mom he is doing it again.  And why do you laugh like that?”

“Maybe because I inherited my father’s laughter,” I say, “and one day it will be yours.”  

You wake up one day and find yourself transformed into your father.  Doling out advice that you had once ignored.  Becoming a watchful presence from behind that window.

We walk again together, hand in hand, bad puns forgiven.

**

Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

To gaze through the Friday Fictioneer window go here. 

Work and travel makes this a very late submission.  Had a partially written one which I scrapped for this one as it was father's day yesterday.  In memory of a great father, whose strength as a father I only realised after becoming a father myself. 

Update: My blog has been accepted in the creative writing category in BlogAdda.  I must have missed the notification :-)  But there is still time to vote till 13th September if you wish to do so.

The Keepers

PHOTO PROMPT – © Claire Fuller

“What’s he done now?” I ask as they bring him in.

I get a sullen look from the guard instead.

He winks at me, the cheeky bastard, ignoring the shackles.

“I expect better service at your establishment this time landlord”

They follow me to the portal chamber and I pick the first entrance.  Three twists to the right and two to the left.  The strong stench of sulphur assails my nostrils. He will soon find the changes that we’ve made.

“I expect a five star rating” I say as I push him through. We have outsourced his keep to Hell.

**

Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

To read the other Friday Fictioneers prisoners go here. 

Still shuttling between two cities.  Working in Sydney during the week and in Brisbane for the weekend.  Which made me miss a post last week  So rather than become a prisoner of work I'll put an entry in today (or way past midnight).

The Legend of 'Fatty' McLoud

copyright – Madison Woods

‘Fatty’ McLoud was a target of pranks in College. He bore them all with a smile that made his tormentors uncomfortable and remorseful.

The year he turned into a hero was when the “Burger Eating Championship” came to town.  The title holder, a scrawny morose looking youth, who surfaced once a year in a gluttonous orgy leaving rivals writhing with tummy aches.

The competition was fierce and then there were only two methodically masticating away.

It was over when the champion unbuttoned his jeans and groaned.  Like a moth to a flame ‘Fatty’ reached out and wolfed down another burger.

**

Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

To sample the tasty fare by other Friday Fictioneers  go here. 

Transformed

PHOTO PROMPT -© Madison Woods

The wind rustles through the branches. Portends are ominous and I must prepare myself.  My fingers stiffen as the wretched claws unsheathe and the fangs force their way out. An intense pain shoots through my body as my bones crackle while breaking and reforming. The colors fade yet I see more clearly in the yellow light.

In this excruciating moment my heart shrinks and I am rendered speechless as my vocal cords transform. 

My spine enlarges and hunches over. A snout emerges for my face and long hair sprouts from my body.

Transformed I gaze at the moon and howl.

**

Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

To read the 'mooning' stories by other Friday Fictioneers  go here. 

Sending best wishes for a speedy recovery to our fearless Friday Fictioneer commander Rochelle