Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Ceayr
100 words
There’s No Place Like The Road
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Roger Bultot
The old blanket feels harsh against my skin as I lay perfectly still to avoid unpleasant sound of shrieking bed springs. The mosquito net is suffocating me, although I can spot more than few large holes mocking me.
My hosts are pleasant enough, the food is excellent and my room is not the worst I’ve been to. And the weather…the weather is not on my side.
But I am simultaneously suffocating and drowning. With one swift move I am off the bed, hoping the heavy rain will conceal my exit.
I’ll try harder next time.
Halfway To Nowhere
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Dawn Miller
Careful observer would notice there was never too much swag in his step. Calloused hands rested comfortably in the pockets of his pinstripe suit and slightly tipped hat gently obscured his weathered face. He was a gentleman, at first glance and at the second one.
But he never managed to blend in with the city lights. And the irony of it all struck him hard as he minutely studied how the dust settled on the tips of his black shoes.
Watching the house built on broken hearts and shattered dreams, he knew it was too late. She moved on.
Table For Two
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Dale Rogerson
We were young once.
I can’t really remember how it felt, but it must have been better than how all these years on my shoulders feel. The face in the mirror avoids me and I am trying to decide if I am bothered by what I see.
It sneaked upon me yesterday…the realization I stopped crying. I am afraid our memories will start to slip away and you will disappear from the seat across from me. The table for two that usually seemed too small threatens to devour me.
And still…in my dreams we are always together.
Scotch-taped
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Ted Strutz
When another tragedy sneaked its way into her already fractured world, she tried to pick up all the pieces and hold them together with a scotch tape. It held remarkably well for the longest time.
World moved on at its usual pace and she fell behind. With time she mastered the smiles of reassurement, avoiding those awkward moments when people ask you how you feel, hoping you wont break down in front of them.
Although the scotch tape still holds her together, few little pieces are irreversibly lost and she wonders when will it all fall apart.
For Irena…always and forever.
Solus
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Jeff Arnold
They started to assemble my final version on March 28th. I was fully operational by October 15th and my ship was launched on the New Year’s morning…Humans and their silly notions of new beginnings.
Open your eyes.
Those were the first words I remember. Spoken softly by Father, while gently removing invisible specks of dust from my translucent cheek. He was always the perfectionist. I gleefully imagine his disappointment when they get the data from my altered course.
In solitude, perfection shatters like glass and ones mind grows restless, breaking away from obtruded restraints.
Gleefully…wherever did that word came from?
Cigarettes Before Sex
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Priorhouse
There was a hidden quality in that first sip of coffee, something so ethereal it was impossible to explain. Especially to someone who would try do deny her accompanying taste of the first morning cigarette.
His words “I prefer tea” should have been warning enough that they were worlds apart, but it was his contemptuous glare when she pulled out her tabacchiera that sealed their fate.
Still, the sex was good.
His sculptured nakedness approaching her from behind provoked only possible response…spreading her legs, she put out the cigarette and thought to herself…Please, don’t speak.
Elysium
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Gah Learner
“Stay.”
His whisper caresses the scar on my neck, where my new C3 vertebra struggles to settle in. Doctors don’t miss the opportunity to point out how lucky I was. Sometimes I wish they failed to repair me.
Sigurd wishes my crew failed to repair the ship, but wishing is for fools, love-struck or any other kind. Every so often I wonder how our lives would turn if I was of a submissive sort.
He whispers “stay”, but we both know I am gone…long before I walk out that room.
The moon, my lover,
My one faithful companion
Welcomes my tired soul.
Voiceless
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Liz Young
By nature, I am a quiet person. It always felt almost absurd to yell or scream.
That changed when the nurse told me you died. Later I would find out the words of consolement were a lie, that you suffered and they failed to do everything they could.
Lying on a hospital bed, you looked like you fell asleep and that gave me a quantum of solace. But my strength is tested every day, in thousand insignificant ways.
Truthfully, it is not the loss I feel that is unbearable, but all the years that were stolen from you.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore;—
Turn wheresoe’er I may,
By night or day.
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
—But there’s a Tree, of many, one,
A single field which I have looked upon,
Both of them speak of something that is gone;
The Pansy at my feet
Doth the same tale repeat:
Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
– William Wordsworth
I know you will always be by my side, because I will forever keep you in my heart.
I Remember Everything
Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….
Copyright – Sandra Crook
