End Game

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

She listened as the laughter of children playing reverberated outside.  A tiny smile flitted around her lips watching them play.

She hadn’t imagined such happiness a year ago.  Not since her son’s last birthday when she had stepped into her pantry only to be confronted by the sight of her husband and best friend locked in a passionate embrace.   

After the shock came months of false reconciliation, continued cheating and lying.  The deception plunged her in depression till she found the strength to walk away.

She should have had done this much before and pinned the tail on the donkey.

***

 Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

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Interrogation

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The captors guided me blindfolded into the room.

“Take them off”, that voice, where have I heard it before?

I blinked under the harsh spotlight but I could make out a purple wraith holding a photograph. 

“What do you see?” she asked.

It had to be her, the famed purple ringleader.

“Answer or I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug!“

The Scotsman? Here? Am I going to get out alive?

“Potty humour is a safe option” said the red nosed guy.

“Alright,” I screamed, “the photo has nothing to do with the story.”

Then I woke up.

But it could happen.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

Have you ever wondered what it might be to write a story that does not match the photo?  Yeah, me too, especially after a few writers go missing....

Alas the limit of a hundred word leaves most of you out but I did think of you ;-)



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Boundaries

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

It didn’t take long after the snow had melted for people start pouring in.  They said that this area would be fertile and produce enough to feed the world.

In the beginning it was enough to have your farm’s geographical boundaries stored in the central database.  But as the deluge of people continued, those markings counted for nothing.  The squatters resorting to brutal intimidation to claim more land and that’s when the electric fences became more popular. 

But when the harvests failed, the land was abandoned again.  Melting the polar caps with nuclear missiles was probably not the best idea.

*** 

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

Finally a Friday Fiction post written on a Friday.  The thought of burying a body or few under that bleak landscape did cross the mind, but in the end I went for the mildly dystopian tale (now that's a new genre).

To read the other writers click here.

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Melting Words

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

There was only one reason that made me walk to Synagogue Street on Saturdays.  It wasn’t for the old Irani food joints that lined the street selling enticing kebabs and sweet chai.

It was to catch a glimpse of Esther she walked with her family to the imposing red building.  A hint of smile flitted on her lips as she walked past me.  Next Monday in school she would ask how my weekend went while I’d stammer and talk about cricket.

A lifetime later I reminisce and think of all the words I should have said to melt her heart.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

I couldn't let the weekend go without contributing to the prompt.  Technically it's Monday here but being a public holiday I'll take this opportunity to slip this in.  So I dug in to the memory of a building that I'd seen in my childhood and used that as a story.  For those interested here is a link to an article about the Indian Jewish actresses who once ruled the Hindi cinema  https://www.bh.org.il/blog-items/bollywoods-jewish-superstar-actresses/

 To read the other writers click here.

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