Friday, February 24, 2017

Special Snowflake

PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

Every snowflake is different. Yet they are crafted from the same elements:  ice crystals, water vapour and dust.  Ice crystals in hexagonal formations that morph into different shapes and sizes. 

To my family my brother’s birth meant the arrival of a much-awaited male heir.  Though we were crafted from the same cloth I was just a maid in waiting till the day he arrived.  The snowfall blanketing the earth in its white embrace that day added a magical moment to the family folklore.

Every snowflake is different.  In the end it was the addiction to ice that did him in.

Written for 
Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

Wow a Friday Fictioneers post on a Friday, now thats something that doesn't happen all the time. 
 To get snowed in by other writers this week click here.  
Also a thanks in advance to the non-blogspot users who leave a comment.  Much appreciated.  And to those who don't, come on over to the dark side  ;-)

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Lunar Tick


Hollow brains said the old man and coughed.

He sat there in front of me drooling.  I’ve been chasing him for decades hitting jackpot before my retirement.

If you could cast your mind back sir to the day your partner went missing.  

That day! He spits the words out with venom. 

New evidence has traced your DNA on the bottle found at the site.   We know you did it.

Evidence! She kept going on about the man on the moon.  Dem flags don’t ripple in space.  Gave me a bottle to celebrate and I cracked it open on her head.

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

It's Monday today and my flight is late.  Time to quickly throw in a Friday Fictioneers entry and be the lucky last :-)   To read the timely entries by other writers this week click here.  

Wednesday, February 08, 2017


In his sleep he dreams that he is by the water’s edge.  The cool breeze fans his face and he hears the gentle gurgling sound of the water lapping by the shore.

But why does his head feel so hot and his feet damp?

His eyes open groggily adjusting to the bright light.

He is on a chair strapped by a rope in a python like embrace.  The feet are submerged in water and his shoes soaked.

Distant laughter echoes in his ears.  As his eyes scan the shore he sees them waving.

"Bastards,” he swears, "I’ll get you too".

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

Lately I have been missing the FF's deadline due to travel and work.   So this is a relatively early bird entry for me.   While fictional it does draw from pranks that may have occurred in boarding school and school camps.   I would never do anything like this ;-) To wade in and read the other writers this week click here.