Gone but not forgotten

They came in the dead of night.  I saw their head torches; heard their shouts.  I don’t know what his crime was nor who had made the call to snitch but I knew he was one of the good ones. 

I remember him from when I was young.  I was always slightly scared of him – his towering stature and steadfast authority.  I was too young, then, to understand the shelter and comfort he gave. How he used his power to benefit others. 

I hope he didn’t go quietly.  

I hope he managed to inflicted a few blows as he fell. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Word count = 100

This week’s offering for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less based on a fabulous photo prompt. Click the link to read the other submissions.

Rusty Dreams

PHOTO PROMPT © Russell Gayer

I used to dream of a life of freedom. A gypsie. Traveller. Moving where the winds took me. Sleeping under the stars in tents, camper vans, converted buses, a beautiful old Romanichal wagon…  Living and loving with no rules; guided by my own moral compass and sharing all I have with like-minded others.

But my faith in others got tested one too many times. I got caught up in a World of nice cars, promotions and pensions. 

That dream is still there – neglected and rusty. One day I’ll dust it down, blow off the cobwebs and set myself free.

Word count = 100 words.

This story is for Friday Fictioneers.  Each week, the lovely Rochelle gives us a photo prompt and a challenge to complete a story in 100 words or less.  I always aim for bang-on 100.  Just my little personal challenge to myself.   To check out the other stories, click here

The bigger they are the harder they fall

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

What a night!

Richard awoke to the not-unfamiliar herd of elephants trampling through his brain.  

A quick scan of his body confirmed all limbs were present.  He vaguely remembered the usual arm-wrestling challenges.  Standard.  100% record still in tact. He’d beaten a big lad.  Rough.  That didn’t go down well, Richard smiled.  The bigger they are the harder they fell.

Then what? 

A hazy memory of a drunken rematch suggested.  Big Lad wanted revenge.  He searched his memory. Oh no!  Surely not!! Well that explained the pain in his shoulder and the blood and mud that covered hands. 

It’s been a while (3 years in fact – I didn’t realise it was quite that long! – but it’s so good to be back. Thank you for still being here! Friday Fictioneers – every week a story in 100 words or less. My personal challenge is to be bang-on 100.

Lockets and locks

Friday Fictioneers time again.  Thanks to Rochelle for hosting.

One story in one hundred words, based on the photo of the week.  This week, it comes courtesy of Sandra Crook…

She could barely contain her anguish.  Convinced of his intention to ask for her hand,  her sister’s news that she, instead, was to become his bride tore at her very core. As the tears welled, she fumbled her congratulations and made her excuses to leave; the swoosh of her petticoats masking a heart-breaking sob as her fingers clutched at the necklace he’d gifted her only two weeks earlier.

They found her the following morning.  Her skirts billowing in the gentle waters of the lock. Her face peaceful, as though sleeping in this murky water bed.  The locket in her hand.

word count: 100

See the other stories based on this picture here:  An InLinkz Link-up

It’s a knock-out!

Friday Fictioneers time again (it has been a while!).  The aim of the game:  a story of 100 words or less, based around a photo.  This week the photo is courtesy of J Hardy Carroll and the stories hosted, as always, by the lovely Rochelle

Here is my offering (word count: 100)…

I lay there, lights dancing like fireflies around my side-on view of a pair of feet, wondering where I was. I could hear the dull rumbles of (concerned?) voices.  Every now and again another pair of feet wandered into the blurred frame.   My head felt like an elephant was standing on it.  My shoulder, the one I was lying on,  appeared to be at right-angles to where it should be.

Then I remembered.

Maybe boxing wasn’t the sport for me.   1 fight; 1 punch; 1 KO (not in my favour).  My shoulder would mend quickly; my ego not so easily!

I hope you enjoyed it.   Check out the other’s stories here…

An InLinkz Link-up

Jar of Souls

Hi there – it’s been a while!    Friday Fictioneers time again – the lovely Rochelle provides us with a photo for inspiration and we provide a story in 100 words.  Thanks to Janet Webb for the lovely photo.  Here’s my offering. It feels good to be back…

 

 

Miranda started as she heard the rap on the door.   Her 10 o’clock was early.

Stopping to adjust her cleavage in the mirror and wiping an errand bit of lipstick from her teeth, she braced herself, smiled, and welcomed him in.  Not as fat as the last one.  And smelt nice; of cinnamon or Korean Spice.  An expensive shirt and the not-unusual tan line on the left hand second finger.

Turning towards the bedroom, her eye caught the jar on the windowsill; the small lights within dancing in the sun.  Her collection of souls:  Soon to be one more.

Word count: 100

 

See everyone else’s An InLinkz Link-up

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Hope: Spring Eternal

I haven’t been around for a few weeks.  Personal issues playing havoc with my creative mojo.   But now; I’m back! Still not quite firing on all cylinders but I’m back!!

Thanks, as always to Rochelle for hosting us Friday Fictioneers:  Each week, people who love writing respond to a photographic prompt in 100 words or less.  Thanks, too, to  The Reclining Gentleman for this week’s photo inspiration:

I remember the terraces as they used to be: Side-by-side, back-to-back, dark hovels of misery.  Some fought their demolition; hoping until the last minute, that they would get a reprieve.  Not me.  Couldn’t wait to ship out.  In their hay-day I’m sure they made great homes.  But then the druggies moved in.  The shitty landlords with their shitty tenants.  Doors that used to be open, deadlocked after 5pm. Nobody talked.  No – I welcomed the bulldozers!  The only shame: the cash ran out before the new homes could be built. So I planted the bulbs.  Hope.

(Word count: 100)

 

To read others’ wonderful takes and maybe even add your own, click here

My Little Ghost

Friday Fictioneers time again – my favourite time of the week.   Hosted by Rochelle, this week’s photo prompt is © J Hardy Carroll

This was our graveyard.  I remember playing with her when I was little.  I didn’t realise at the time how she didn’t age a day.  She was beautiful; pale skin that looked iridescent in the evening glow, light blue eyes that seemed to hold the World and a laugh so delicate that I always imaged it to be the sound butterfly wings made.  Now, old and frail, I watch her with her new young playmate.  They look so happy, so carefree.  As I turn to leave, our eyes meet momentarily. Is that a flicker of recognition?  How I loved her.

To read the other submissions or add your own, click:

An InLinkz Link-up

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(Words: 100)

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Me and The Devil Blues

Friday Fictioneers time again.  Each week, Rochelle sets us a challenge by way of a picture prompt.  The challenge:  a story in 100 words based on the prompt.

I’ve been planning this trip since my impressionable, wide-eyed 15-year-old self watched Capra’s It Happened One Night.  Now here I was:  24 and full of expectation.  I adjusted my headphones, crossed my legs in an attempt to look as effortlessly seductive as Ellie Andrews, and settled into my seat.  It didn’t take me long, looking around my fellow passengers, to realise that this wasn’t the way to meet my Clark Gable.  I smiled dejectedly as Clapton’s version of ’Me and The Devil Blues’ started on my iPod; much more realistic!  I wondered where the next stop was.

(Words 100)

Me and the Devil Blues – Robert Johnson

To read the other entries – please click the froggy below

No likey no lighty

It’s Friday Fictioneers time again:  100 words to tell a story based on one photo prompt.  Hosted by the lovely Rochelle, whose photo we’re also using for inspiration this week.   This photo took me back to one of my worst experiences during my time on the internet dating “scene”.  *shivers. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.  to read all of the submissions, click the link…

An InLinkz Link-up

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PHOTO PROMPT -© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Who suggests a first date at a shopping precinct?!  This had better be good.   No spaces in the lower car park; the rain is belting down.  It’s dark and cold.  I’m hungry.  Actually, I’m grumpy and hungry.  Grumpy, hungry and now wet.  This had better be really good.

Was that him?!  He was in the right spot.  Wearing the right colour shirt.  He smiled and waved.  Jesus!  His profile photo must have been taken at least 10 years ago.  At least 10 kilos ago, too.

I’m missing the Apprentice for this.  I wonder if John Lewis has a sale on.

(Word count: 100)