Invisible

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Looking back she could never tell of the day she became invisible.  Perhaps it was a gradual process over the years of being ignored and having her opinions go unheard.

Her own family would make plans without her, barely remembering she existed except when they wanted something done.

Sometimes she would see them enter a room, scrunching their eyes and scanning the room till they found her.  They would come over and make desultory conversation till the words tapered off and they wandered away.

As time went by she found the invisibility liberating, enjoying the freedom that came with it.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

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Driving Me Crazy

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

Say Boss 

Ya Tony?

Ya gotta get me another car.

Wassa matter with dis one?

Folks don’t take me seriously Boss.

Explain yourself Tony.

Yesterday I drove downtown to make da hit on Fat Albert.   His weasels were lurking around with his henchman Crosseye.  He look across da road and say ‘Hey Tony,  didn’t know youse worked for Santa, how’s de Elf Mobile?’

Den the weasels start sniggering. I gets mad and shoot all five and finish Fat Albert.

Ya done good Tony.

But now my street name be Tony Da Elf Mobile Driver, who’s gonna be scared of dat?

***

It's a dialogue only story this week or as I sometimes call it 'my weakly offering'.  I hope it works.

Written for the Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

To read the other writers click here.

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Alone Again

PHOTO PROMPT © Bill Reynolds

What great campsite he ruminated.  There is something to be said about living in nature.   His fingers rummaged through the esky seeking another beer can. 

Except he wasn’t meant to be alone. 

The love of his life who he had met last week was to be with him. 

He even had a ring that he had planned to put in her breakfast bowl as a surprise. 

The trip was a surprise.  She thought they were going on a picnic. 

He should have never told her about the weekend plans at the service station. 

At least she left the beer behind. 

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

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The Happy Place

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

There are only two of them left in the playground now.  The incessant showers during the day have left it slippery and bereft of visitors except for them.  Neither one of them is willing to walk away from their happy place.

“Look at me mommy I am balancing” his voice reverberates through the air.  She closes her eyes capturing his movement on every swing and slide here.

He finds her drenched standing at the edge of the empty park where their son used to play.  Her eyes moisten as she sees him.  Their hands interlace as they walk quietly away.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

I have a feeling that many of the stories this week will reflect on that terrible massacre in the daycare centre in northeast Thailand.  What is our world coming to?

To read the other writers click here.

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The Departure Lounge

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

“Is this seat taken?” I ask.

The trick is to inject that note of shy hesitancy.  Makes you seem vulnerable and needy and there are always those kind pottering around airports.  

He briefly looks over his book and tells me to take it. 

As always he is drinking coffee in a cup.  For me those takeaway cups with lids are an occupational hazard.

They chose me for my ability to slip something unnoticed in a drink, a task done many times before for the Supreme Leader.

Never walk away afterwards.  And it helps to raise an alarm to avoid suspicion.

***

 Written for the Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

Wow! I can't believe I've not written anything for over a year now.  I suppose writing code does not count either.  Well one way to ease back into Friday Fictioneers is to start by having a body count.

To read the other writers click here.

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Fake News

PHOTO PROMPT© Lisa Fox

We live in a world of fake news and disinformation is pushed down our throat.  It happens with such regularity that we miss out on the real stories and focus on the fake ones pushed on to us.

Especially those fairy tales where the Prince Charming rescues the damsel in distress.  Just think why would a very capable Cinderella wait to be rescued out of drudgery?  Cinderella did not come in a carriage magically materialised out of pumpkins.  Cinders rode her Harley to the ball.  And she slipped him her number on leaving.

The bike? It’s a museum piece now.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

I am probably the last one in this week.  Have missed a few episodes of FF this year, so what do I do but fall back on fracturing a fairy tale yet again.

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Gone Fishing

PHOTO PROMPT© Jennifer Pendergast

That eye is the perfect spot to fish I tell him.

Eye? He sounds confused this young pup I am saddled with training.

Those little thick circles of ice, I inform him, the hole suggests a good catch.

Confusion doesn’t last very long in the ambitious tyke.  I can see the gears in the brain whirling.

Bring back fish, become hero.

Without hesitation he steps forward.

There is a little gurgling sound at the end that a drowning person makes just before water rushes into the lungs. 

I love that sound.  And winter is the perfect time to set traps.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

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Selfie Before The Cart

©Roger Bultot

For a long time Mr Patel had resisted the pull of the social network.

‘Have no time man” explained his absence from the digital life.

“Don’t trust technology man” was oft repeated.

A lifelong bachelor, he was married to his work.  So when he was made redundant, we worried about how idleness would impact him.

Fortunately a lifetime of frugality meant he had no financial worries.

Then he sent me a friend request.  Mr Patel was on social media.

After keeping his life private for years, Mr Patel was sharing everything.  

His motto now was “I selfie therefore I am”.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

I've missed the last two episodes of the FF.  Mostly due to not posting on time, so will be fashionably late this time, after all I blog therefore I am ;-)

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Stumped

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

“My dear fellow,” said Sherlock Holmes as we sat on either side of the fire in his lodgings at Baker Street, “I am stumped”.

“And yet I am not convinced,” I answered. “The great Sherlock Holmes stumped?”

“Well perhaps flummoxed then” he replied taking down the old and oily clay pipe, and, having lit it, he puffed away.

“But Holmes, why?”  I questioned.

Sherlock Holmes chuckled.

“I am convinced this is the work of the Purple Wraith.  She who posts pictures online every week, seeking precisely one hundred words. I fear this week, I too have been lost for words.”

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

It's Sandra's photo this week, she who spins out impossibly good fiction each week that just leaves us wanting more. 

To read the other writers click here.

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Fairy Tales

Copyright Russell Gayer

If truth be told then the carriage that Cinderella went to the ball in was not a pumpkin.  It was a lemon.

I knew that lemon.  It was in Honest Al’s yard and I bought it for the Fairy Godmother when she was looking for a van.  When you have magic backing you up any lemon will do.  I worked for that witch and the things I could tell you would churn your insides.

The National Enquirer wanted to do a story on that scam but the editor was scared of being turned into a frog and covered it up.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

It's Russell's photo this week, so I hope my take meets his approval.

To read the other writers this week click here

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Exile

PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda

Why would you ever go back they ask?  

He knows the other exiles have been whispering behind his back.  

Are you not happy to bask in the glow of freedom?  

After all he should be grateful not being a part of the tired, the poor, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free.

Yet he notices the suspicious looks that people give when he wears the ethnic dress that he refuses to discard.

A scholar in his land but here he struggles with hopelessness, loss and lack of purpose.

Maybe this was not the freedom that he expected it to be.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 99

To read the other writers this week click here

While writing this I was suddenly reminded of a poem by Faiz

Dawn of Freedom (August 1947) 
This stain-covered daybreak, this night-bitten dawn,
This is not that dawn of which there was expectation;
This is not that dawn with longing for which
The friends set out, (convinced) that somewhere there we met with,

https://urduwallahs.wordpress.com/2014/08/15/the-dawn-of-freedom/

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Shadow Lands

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

They say sometimes in early winter mornings when the mist rises over the lake you can see the shadowy outlines of the departed.  Souls of people who found their way into the lake either by purpose or by accident.

To make contact with these ethereal shadows you must stand close to the water’s edge and let the mist waft over you.

 Only some can hear the voices of the dead reverberate in their ears.

I stood at the edge of the lake for all of last week with my arms opened in embrace.

Join me you whispered.

And I did.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

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River of Memories

PHOTO PROMPT © Anne Higa  

Every time we visit our Great Grandfather he regales us with tales from life in a bygone era.  With all the memory keepers gone one can’t even cross check those stories.

Once a fortnight we take him out on trips to the Mall.  Last week my brother wanted to show him the new river that management had started.

Gramps took one look and chuckled.

“That’s a river? When we lived above ground, civilizations flourished along the banks of mighty rivers.”

Gramps is such a hoot but I had to remind the caretakers to adjust his meds again when we left.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

To read the other writers this week click here

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Serpent's Den

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

It was late at night but the market was bustling. 

The young backpackers fascinated by the crowds and the restaurants packed with people, revelled in the scenes unfolding before their eyes. 

‘Far out man, this is so cool’

Their young handsome companion smiled and not for the first time the three young travellers felt lucky having him around. 

 Slim, lithe and muscular with wide cheekbones one felt like being in the presence of a movie star. 

The women found his French accent so adorable. 

 “The night is still young’, said Alain Gautier, “Let’s party” 

 He had plans for them all.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

To read the other writers this week click here

I am watching the Netflix series The Serpent a fascinating recreation of the cold blooded serial killer Charles Sobhraj aka Alain Gautier aka the serpent and thus this flash.

In other news my sister's beautifully written historical fiction that brings alive an opulent and turbulent time in India's past through the eyes of a Portuguese priest is available for download. in Amazon - Of Ships and Shahs

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Knead To Know

PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast  

The Inspector sat across the table from the old couple conducting an investigation.

 It has come to our attention that a young individual referring to himself as a gingerbread man was observed being chased by the two of you. Furthermore no trace of the said individual has been found.

It wasn’t us officer we couldn’t catch him. 

All we wanted was to nib.... hug him.

We have had reports of weird doughs sighted here. 

Officer we would have reported any baking and entering.

 

Inspector, said the sergeant, we found a bunch of deleted cookies.

Are we going behind jars officer?

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

To read the other writers this week click here

I thought I'd put up a video by Oreo Speedwagon but maybe I'll stick with Beatles and 'All you knead is love' ;-)

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The Quest

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

Be mine he pleaded. 

 I must leave, she said, find me and I am yours. 

 Where shall I look? 

 I'll be where the sky meets the earth.  

And then she disappeared. 

He roamed the earth, climbing the highest mountains and descending to deepest valleys.

Through arid deserts and snow covered wonderlands. 

 The sirens of the seas sang to him but he remained oblivious to their music. 

 Years rolled into decades to centuries but his quest never ended. 

 I am here, she whispers, right next to you. 

If you could stop and look my love, you will find I never left. 

 ***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

Back again this week after missing out on last week's prompt.  Still not sure if 'Pursuit of Happiness' or 'Chasing Chimeras' makes a better title.  But does it work? I guess your comments will let me know.

Edit: I guess we can be looking for happiness in different places all our lives when in fact it is right there next to us all long.

To read the other writers this week click here

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Melting Hearts

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

They told me to steer clear of ice-maidens.

So it was that you were a touch frosty when we met.

Walk away they said when the roses get covered in snow.

But snow-covered flowers signal that a fresh start is on the way.

The sparse beauty of a winter wonderland has much to offer.

And in many aspects snowflakes are like us - imperfect.

They too grow unevenly, in a short span can be broken, melted and refrozen.

If that isn't being human I don't know what is.

Winter does not last forever.

Ice-maidens too have hearts that melt.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 99

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Special Delivery

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Mr Patel returned home last week, what was left of him anyway. Not in the manner that he would have expected but still by priority express mail.

Mrs Patel could hear him 'I am not like that Kumar who just preens on Facebook but is a zero in real life, I am worth a lot more you wait and see'.

And now here he was signed, sealed and delivered.

Kumar was coming over in the evening with the insurance papers. She picked out a white sari and applied some kohl to her eyes. Such a helpful man and still unmarried.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

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The Railway Line

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

In happier times it would have been the job of a lifetime. 

Imagine building a train line that traversed inhospitable rain forests, deep valleys, climbing high mountain ranges and lengthy mountain passes and over great rivers. 

Now imagine doing it under the barrel of a gun, incessant floggings and inadequate food.  

The Burma-Siam Railway built between June 1942 and October 1943 laid some 415 km of track giving birth to stories of heroism and the bridge over that river immortalised in a film. 

The forgotten heroes were the labourers who lived and died during the construction of the railway. 

 **

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

To read the other writers this week click here

It is estimated that 16,000 allied POWs and 75000 to 150,000 Malay and Indonesian laborers died during the construction of the Burma railway. A total of 6,982 Allied prisoners who died in captivity during the war are buried in a beautifully maintained cemetery with rows of flowering plants. Some died building the Bridge Over the River Kwai and others perished while laboring on the notorious "Death Railway" to Burma.

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The Prodigy

PHOTO PROMPT © Trish Nankivell

He was marked out for great things the moment he was born, the astrologer mentioning alignment of planets and auspiciousness of stars. 

What greatness? 

The smitten parents had to know. 

The old astrologer swore silently. Majority of his clients rarely questioned him if the future was bright. Only a few needed to know every detail. 

 He observed the fancy music system in the room. A musical genius he said leaving hurriedly. 

 The budding prodigy was doted over each little stage of his life. 

 Is that what I think I am looking at Momma? 

 Absolutely Popsy. It is Beethoven’s first movement. 

 *** 

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

To read the other writers this week click here

Hello there once again in 2021.   Back after missing many episodes of FF.  Many factors here - missing muse, procrastination and yes the dreaded lack of belief.  But this is a new year and hope to contribute more.

Double dog dare accepted.  No covid, lockdowns in this post ;-)

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