Dusk Dusk

PHOTO PROMPT © Renee Heath

He is transfixed by changing colours of sky as daylight seeps into dusk.  Hints of a lilac remain high above the fading light of the sunset.   Moments like this offer plenty for quiet contemplation and he remains lost in his thoughts.

This was supposed to be his time with the teens.  He knew their nickname for him was ‘stable parental’, something not encouraged by him but it still persisted.  

‘Having fun?’ he inquired as they waved their mobiles in the air.

‘Awesome dad, but the network is down.  What’s the point of a great sunset if you can’t Instagram it?’

 *** 

100 words.

Here we go on another round of  Friday Fictioneer.  I am a bit stumped by this week's photo but I didn't want a late submission.  I hope it is not 'tepeeid' prose ;-)

To read the other writers this week, click here. 

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

Starting Over

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

When we were young all we wanted was to grow old together.  Now that oldness has set in along with wrinkles, sagginess and weight gain, he thinks we need a fresh start. 

So I got the talk about how he wants to return to the beginning.  For which he must move out to discover himself.   The idiot left his email open yesterday.  I know exactly what he is discovering!

So here I am with his true love, a Chevrolet Bel Air, that I helped restore.

I am leaving it as we first found it.  He did mention a fresh start.

***

 100 words.

A Friday submission to this week's of  Friday Fictioneer.  And as the car in the photo is a classic Chevrolet Bel Air from 1953 here is a sample of hits from that year.

To test drive the other writer's offerings click here.   

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

Passing Through

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Growing up my father and uncle would hint about a mysterious power that I would acquire one day.  It became a standing joke between us.

Yesterday I found myself locked out with no one else at home.  Suddenly I felt this intense desire to be inside and found myself passing through the door.  I freaked out but as my leg came through, my body was whole again taking out a section of the door.  

Panicking I called my father but he sounded relieved. 

The first time is scary, he said.

Turns out all male members of our family can disapparate.

***

 100 words.

A late entry to this week's of  Friday Fictioneer.  I was going all serious but then I scratched my entry out.  I did debate with myself (I am weird like that) about using a word that is not in dictionary usage but instead comes to us from  popular culture, oh alright from Harry Potter, but then again magic won in the end.

To open the other broken doors click here. 

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

Shell Shocked

PHOTO PROMPT © Priya Bajpal

The tiny seaside hamlet was all agog with rumours of a raid in their community.   Some said it was the environmental protection agency while the others felt that it was the IRS.  The tiny group at the cafe sipping soy lattes said it was time the Marine Molluscs Mafia got it’s just deserts. 

The local Conchologists were divided.  A segment felt that by selling fossils she contributed important information about prehistoric life to the scientific community, while others were against disturbing ecosystems.

Either way it is going to be a long time till she sells seashells by the sea shore.

***

It's another week of  Friday Fictioneer.  I am going to do another take on a classic tongue twister this week.  I have done this before and here is my take from the last time The Shell.

Once again wishing everyone a very happy new year and to read the other shells, click here. 

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

Conflict

Copyright Russell Gayer

They call it the line of actual control, the bland term disguising the partition of nations and people.  A largely uninhabited area it remains a harsh and unforgiving landscape.

Yet countries go to war over it and words like nationalism and patriotism are bandied about.  Uttered mostly by experts sitting in comfortable surroundings.

He came back in a body bag.  Not entirely whole, only the parts of him that were recovered after the land mine blew him to smithereens.  This was to have been his last tour to the border areas.  Another victim of a conflict that never ends.

***

Word Count : 100.

It's 2019 folks and the start of a new season of  Friday Fictioneer.  I hope all of you have had a great start to the new year.

Starting the year on a slightly sombre note.  Unfortunately I did know someone who came back in a body bag over 21 years ago.   That conflict still drags on and the armchair warriors grow more strident each year.  Maybe this is the year when we usher peace in to the troubled regions of the world.

Once again wishing everyone a very happy new year and to read the first words for this year, click here. 

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