The Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.

Photo copyright Sarah Potter

Unfinished Business

The desk. It was still there after all these years. The young girl who had sat for hours at it spilling out her heart, it was that Louise who looked at the desk through adult eyes as though time had stood still, commanding her to return.

Even her jar was still there. She remembered a menagerie of pens standing in it, each one waiting to be chosen, eager to create words that created sentences that created paragraphs, gushing out pages at a time. Oh, yes, Louise had a lot of unfinished business to attend to, now that she was back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

The Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.

Photo copyright Karuna

Memory Maker

Putting on her gloves, Ida wondered how the family was coping after the fire, especially the children.

Oh, the agony of a child whose favorite toy was lost or damaged. She remembered being devastated when her favorite doll, Sally Sue, finally fell apart. Young Ida vowed never to let that happen again. And she didn’t. She learned to clean her dolls, repair the rips, sew their clothes.

As a professional doll restorer, Ida now helped others recover parts of their childhood. She smiled at her next three patients, knowing they would soon be reunited with those who loved them most.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

The Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.

Photo copyright J Hardy Carroll

Looking Back

What was so great about high school? Joseph entered the classroom, damaged by fire when he was a junior.

“Nothing,” he whispered to the ghosts of bullies past, “nothing at all.” Some people looked back as those years being the best in their lives. His footsteps left imprints in the ashes and dust. When did they give up on themselves, throw away their futures?

His whole class had to transfer to other districts. The new school was like breathing fresh air; Joseph survived.

He looked back one last time. Torching this place was the best thing I ever did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
J Hardy Carroll, who provided the photo prompt, is also a Friday Fictioneer. You can read his story here.

To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

The Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.

Photo copyright Roger Bultot

The Daily Special

“That bag, someone turned it in as lost. When he asked for it, I thought it was his.” The three detectives looked at him. He was sweating, pale, so nervous he was barely able to stand.

Detective Wollstonecraft had worked undercover for months, investigating the money laundering operation, tracking it to this diner, to the owner.

“You’re lying,” she said, leaning against the counter. “He asked for the daily special, you gave him the bag. He’s already in custody. Tell us about the money: where it comes from, where it goes. And, sir, please: Just the facts.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

The Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.

Photo copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

A Polite Introduction

Jane ignored the damage to Q’s latest vehicular toy as she rammed it through the hotel lobby entrance. Following the man with the bulging backpack onto the third floor, she broke down the door only to find him ready with an explosive. He threw it at her.

She crashed through the floor. Falling sheet rock and splintered boards announced her arrival as she landed on the foot of a king size bed. Rising from the dust, she noticed the two wide-eyed people in bed.

Brushing off the debris, she winked at her involuntary hosts, politely introducing herself: “Bond, Jane Bond.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I always thought that if I ever fell through the floor of a hotel room, landing on some soft surface below, I’d introduce myself as “Bond, Jane Bond.” Here’s to hoping that never, ever happens. I’m pretty sure the reality would be brutal, not at all like we see on TV or in the movies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This week’s photographer is Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, our wonderful and hard-working Friday Fictioneer host. You can read her story here.

To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.