Been Stalked

PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior

He strode into the room with his usual giant strides. What he really needed was shot of caffeine after his afternoon siesta.

He smiled indulgently as the room was filled with the sounds of the gentle strumming of the harp.

Good coffee and music that was all that he needed. He was glad that that coffee was always brewing, all he had to do was come into this room and it would be set up for him.

He stood and inhaled appreciatively. Something was different today. He stood there tentatively and twitching his nostrils sniffed again. “Fee fi fo fum…”

***

  Word Count : 100.

Time for a coffee break at the Friday Fictioneers.  To read what's brewing with the Fictioneers this week click here

 I'd love read what you think about this post...

Under my umbrella

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

I am never going to that restaurant. There we were having fun on the karaoke machine and this waiter asked us to stop.  We told him to stop being cranky?

Then we all called him a killjoy. You know what he said?

“I love my music and I’d even say it’s not that bad a song.  Got a nice rhythm to it and before I worked here I might have even hummed it.  But if I hear ‘Under my umbrella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh-eh’ one more time, I’ll seriously open the umbrella where the sun don’t shine.”

***

  Word Count : 100.

Its Umbrella week at the Friday Fictioneers.  I may come back with a serious flash in which I discuss the meaning of life.  But lets have some fun first.

To read other stories by the Fictioneers this week click here

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Time Out

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

He was in my shop again, the heartless man, but I suppose he was only doing his job.

He coughed discreetly, clearing his throat.

 “So you don’t know why she would be in a park at such a late hour sir?”

“No.  We don’t have any friends as such in this town, except Franz and Bertha who live next door”.

Franz that bastard! Did he think I would never find out?

I knew he would remain silent, Bertha’s family was not known for forgiveness.

“The weapon remains untraceable too”.

The cuckoo sang as the red tipped hand reached the hour.

***

Here we go clocking another week of the Friday Fictioneers.

Word Count : 100.

Like last week am going for two submissions. The first one can be found here -> Inheritance

To read other stories by the Fictioneers this week click here

I'd love read what you think about this post...

The Inheritance

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Growing up I was fascinated by my Grandfather’s Cuckoo Clock.   It was an intricately carved clock with ornate carved bone hands and natural walnut patina.  Every hour the cuckoo sound was played, the cabin door would open and dancers would come out.  

Granddad often joked that he would leave it to me in his will.  So when I moved away I wrote letters to him so that he would not forget.

I found other interests, friends and the clock faded from my memory.   But I continued to write to him.  Till one day a letter arrived from his solicitors.

***

Here we go clocking another week of the Friday Fictioneers.

Word Count : 100.

Like last week am going for two submissions. The second unrelated story can be found here -> Time Out

To read other stories by the Fictioneers this week click here

I'd love read what you think about this post...

Lunatic

PHOTO PROMPT © Gah Learner

In hindsight I should have booked the weekend in Venice. Taken a Gondola ride with the gentle pulse of a gondolier’s oar setting the scene for romance. Finish the day watching the sun set behind the Venetian skyline. 

Instead I found this deal online for a prison complex turned into a boutique hotel. Only I missed reading the part about committing to an authentic experience. Which is all explained if you read the contract.

After working the prison yard we were too tired assign blame. The moon a reminder that only a lunatic would have signed up for this holiday.

***

The moon shines over another week of the Friday Fictioneers.

I am going for two submissions this week. The first one can be found here -> Moon Shines Brighter Tonight

To read other stories by the Fictioneers this week click here

I'd love read what you think about this post...

The moon shines brighter tonight

PHOTO PROMPT © Gah Learner

The moon shines brighter tonight
I stand and gaze on its light
This our time on weekends
When we hit the town.

Those youthful days that I recall
In company of friends spinning yarns
Laced by nostalgia and a warm glow
That time brings to days gone by.

Our past years have been spent
In this very room where I now stand
Overlooking the hills in a distance
Our very own ‘room with a view’.

Not my first choice you would joke
How bare and bereft it seems now
Machines unplugged and humming no more
The moon shines brighter tonight.

***

The moon shines over another week of the Friday Fictioneers.

I am going for two submissions this week. The second one can be found here -> Lunatic

To read other stories by the Fictioneers this week click here

I'd love read what you think about this post...