Friday Fictioneers: It Happened Like This

Some photo prompts leave me scratching my head for awhile and then posting a story I’m not really sure I like. This would be one such week. (Mind you, this isn’t a plea for compliments. It’s just the way it sometimes is!) At any rate, here we go…

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Jean L. Hays

It Happened Like This

“You really think that monstrosity’s gonna get you a girl?”

“Dude, like your rust bucket’s any better? She’d fall straight through the floor! I, on the other hand, could literally pick her up.”

“Because that’s what every girl wants, to be swept up in a stupid, smiling scoop. What’s the point of that thing, anyway?”

“Hey, you never know.”

“Face it, man. Neither of us has a chance… Ouch! Get your elbow out of my ribcage!”

“Shh, it’s Rachel Parker. Don’t embarrass us, dude.”

“Hey, boys! My bike has a flat. Can either of you give me a lift?”

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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 – A Brief Lesson in Economics

Photo Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

A Brief Lesson in Economics

The dusty, weathered shelves hung in sharp contrast to the shiny mahogany paneling. Ignoring the man at the desk, Basil scanned the shelves’ contents: crayons, Monopoly pieces, a keychain Etch-a-Sketch. His gaze rested on an old shape-sorter in the top left-hand cubby.

“Ah, you recognize your old playthings.” The man’s voice was deep and smooth as chocolate pudding.

“I want them back.” Basil glanced at the nameplate on the desk. “Mr. Templetorn.”

“Of course you do.” August Templetorn smiled knowingly. “There is, you understand, a price for what you want. Everything has a price, you know. Even you, Basil.”

 

Previously on Basil: Basil Thistlethorn’s Curious Reception

 

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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.

Read or Join here:

Friday Fictioneers – On Angel Wings

This week’s story fits squarely between His Last Ride and The Next Assignment. I didn’t exactly incorporate the photo, but went more figuratively. For reasons you will probably understand after reading the story, the plane and the sun together made me think of Claire… strong, warm, powerful, and good.

copyright-Rich Voza

On Angel Wings (113)

In the instant her hand had touched his chest, she had known it would be different.

Now, high above the cordoned bus station, Angelique fought with every beat of her snow-white wings to free herself from him. All his fear, guilt, shame, and hatred mingled with Angelique’s own sorrow over what might have been. She writhed against the pain within and without as the frigid wind swirled around her tiny form.

Claire’s smooth, pure voice rose above the thunder in Angelique’s ears.

“Be still, child.”

A golden wing, strong and warm as the midday sun, enveloped Angelique. She collapsed, her head against Claire’s chest.

“Steve,” Angelique whispered. “The fat man’s name was Steve.”

 

For the rest of the story click on Angelique.

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.

Read or Join here: