Friday Fictioneers – In Which Basil Laments An Overactive Imagination

I’ll admit, when I first saw today’s prompt, I almost bowed out of participating without a second glance. But a second glance – or maybe a third or fourth – placed this photo squarely above the heads of Basil Thistlethorn and the ever patient Agnes Plop. I hope you enjoy the story!

Studio Lights from Kent

Photo: copyright-Kent Bonham

 

In Which Basil Laments an Overactive Imagination

“Look, Basil.” Agnes tugged his sleeve. “Batman.”

“You must be daft.”

Her hand on his arm anchored him to the spot.

“You’re right.” She squinted at the stage lights. “The more I look, the more sinister he appears. Definitely too dark for Batman. Do you suppose he intends to harm an innocent student?”

“Now you’re just being stupid.” Basil shrugged his arm from her hand and marched on. Agnes and her overactive imagination…

“Wait for me, Basil.”

Turning, Basil glanced up. If he’d had any of that foolish imagination stuff in which Agnes so delighted, he would have sworn the light was lower than it had been a moment before.

 

 

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Friday Fictioneers (n): A world-wide community of writers addicted to writing 100 word stories based on a photo prompt provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

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Friday Fictioneers – Out of Order

Copyright -Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Photo Copyright -Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Out of Order (100 words)

Everyone takes the stairs. Long after the “Out of Order” sign tore from the metal grating, they still avoid the rickety elevator. The wreath and the cheap Styrofoam angel, spray painted gold, remind the tenants of the kid who never got off.

It’s been decades since my brother disappeared, and I’ve told no one my secret. Been watching that stupid elevator the whole time, though. He isn’t coming back.

Metal screeches against metal as I open the elevator door. Stupid of me not to have done this sooner. There are better worlds than this. I hope my invitation hasn’t expired.

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Friday Fictioneers (n): A world-wide community of writers addicted to writing 100 word stories based on a photo prompt provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

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Friday Fictioneers – So Tolls the Ancient Song

Copyright - David Stewart

Photo Copyright – David Stewart

So Tolls the Ancient Song

Frowning, Angelique looked beyond the antique bell to the fields outside the overly sanitized office.

“You ought to have played more.”

“Who has time for sloth?” The man glanced from his computer screen to the papers at his side. “Reports to be written, documents to be filed…”

Angelique ran her fingers along the weathered pull rope.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “No one’s rung it in years. Probably rusted stuck.”

Angelique shook her head. “Oh, no. It will still toll the ancient song.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled. Beneath the clang of the bell, she heard a gasp as the man slumped over his keyboard.

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Friday Fictioneers (n): A world-wide community of writers addicted to writing 100 word stories based on a photo prompt provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

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Friday Fictioneers – Family Reunion

Before sharing this week’s story, I must give a nod to Rick Riordan, whose work my children and I have enjoyed immensely. If you haven’t read any of his books, well… you should.

Copyright -Claire Fuller

Photo Copyright -Claire Fuller

Family Reunion

“I can’t go in.”

I clench my fists, cursing the warmth that even now tingles in my fingertips.

“It’s okay.”

He means to be reassuring, but I can’t forget all I’ve done or that I have no power over my own hands. I shake my head and glance at the sign above the workshop. He smiles, and the warmth in my fingertips spreads up my arms and into my chest. Prying open my fist, he takes my hand and leads me in.

“Fireballs stop when your hands are busy,” he says. “That’s how it is with all of Hephaestus’s children.”

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Friday Fictioneers (n): A world-wide community of writers addicted to writing 100 word stories based on a photo prompt provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

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Friday Fictioneers – No Tears Tonight

Just as a reunion with an old friend stirs one’s emotions, so writing a scene with a familiar character holds a special comfort, a quiet joy, a soft yearning to spend even more time together. It isn’t much, today’s story, but it was a moment with my Angelique. I hope those of you who call her friend enjoy the reunion as well.

Copyright - Erin Leary

Photo Copyright – Erin Leary

No Tears Tonight

“What’s a sweet thing like you doing way out here all by yourself?”

Angelique stretched a rubber band between her thumb and forefinger. She shrugged.

“Listening to the swamp cry.”

As he set the duffel bag at his feet, she swung her legs over the railing to face him. The stench of onions and convenience store cologne drowned the sulfur of the swamp.

He smiled. “You’ll cry tonight.”

She let lose the rubber band. It bounced off his chest, back into her hands.

“No, I won’t.”

She left him slumped over the duffel bag, her black sneakers silent as they struck the boardwalk’s planks.

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Friday Fictioneers (n): A world-wide community of writers addicted to writing 100 word stories based on a photo prompt provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

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Friday Fictioneers – Empty Places

Copyright-Dawn Q. Landau

Photo: Copyright-Dawn Q. Landau

Empty Places (100 words)

Waves have washed away all I held dear. I scour the landscape for some scrap of him, something to prove he truly lived. There is nothing. He is gone, not even a hair of his head left for me to cherish.

The wind, wet with salt, blows my hair from my face as I look over the sea we once swam together. She, with her rolling gray waves, is as desolate as I. Without him,we no longer laugh as friends.

Only one structure remains, a shack as battered as my soul. Perhaps within her walls I can entomb this grief.

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Friday Fictioneers (n): A world-wide community of writers addicted to writing 100 word stories based on a photo prompt provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

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Friday Fictioneers – The Collector

Aside

Copyright- Jean L. Hays

Photo Copyright- Jean L. Hays

The Collector (99 words)

“And this one here…”

“Um, I should probably…”

“Oh, but you’ve only seen half of them.” Mrs. Mullins reached for yet another sun catcher. “This one here I captured on the west coast of Florida. Dolphins, they’re fantastical in real life. Couldn’t bear to leave without a souvenir. This one…”

On and on she went, sun catcher after infernal sun catcher, most of them appearing to have captured more dust than light. Beetles, butterflies, hummingbirds. Dolphins, kittens, puppies.

It was the cherubic child with her hands over her mouth that caught my breath. I could have sworn she blinked.

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Friday Fictioneers (n): A world-wide community of writers addicted to writing 100 word stories based on a photo prompt provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

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