Art Attack

Copyright Roger Bultot.

“So what do you think” I asked my friend, The Critic. 

 We were at the street art exhibition at the corner of Elizabeth and George Streets. The Critic was examining it with intense concentration . 

 “It's difficult to enter into this work because of the metaphorical resonance of the visual representation of the household trash and how it activates the distinctive formal juxtapositions.” 

 A council truck pulled up and men started picking up the exhibition items. 

 “Wow that’s a short exhibition,” I said. 

 “Exhibition? That’s at the corner of Elizabeth and Ann. We are here to pick up the garbage.”

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

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Soul Trader

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

People have always know about the shop, the rumours have floated over the centuries.

I can always spot the ones looking for it; they have that look, that little glint of desperation.

And then there are the hesitant ones, the undecided.  They hover around, eyes frantically trying to catch a glimpse of what's inside.  It's not my job to invite them, the desire must come from them, if they walk away there are always more.

I welcome those who step forward ignoring the signs on the door.  The wares I offer are worth the price of their souls.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

It is a two story week this time.  Here is my second contribution for the week Sign Police

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Sign Police

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Here we go again, Burke and me sitting in a car watching the shop front opposite us. 

It’s just the nature of our work as undercover cops. Not the kind you see on the screen. The movies don’t give you the experience of the assault on your olfactory system when two guys sit in a car on a hot day.  

Burke is bored. 

 ‘Tomorrow my next look will be a Bessie in disguise’, he says. 

 ‘Go ahead. I never judge a cover by the book’ 

 ‘Can we raid them just for that sign?’ 

 ‘Sure we can be the Sign Police’

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

It is a two story week this time.  Here is my first contribution for the week Soul Trader

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The Space Time Conundrum

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

He woke up with a throbbing headache.  He was in his bedroom but he had no recollection of coming home last evening.  Just faint memories of being with the Professor.

 

Time travel! He recalled imbibing Professor’s home brew while listening to theories about spacetime and wormholes. He was sceptical of Professor’s claims but couldn’t refuse the offer to time travel.

 

They had done it. He recalled being in a dim lit alley from 1920s.

 

His mother was in the room.

 

‘The cops said you and your friend had broken into the movie set.  Care to explain what happened young man.”

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

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