First Chair: Fiction Friday

The Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.
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Photo copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Photo copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

First Chair

Graziella opened the windows, her gnarled hands aching with the effort. Each morning her downstairs neighbor practiced the violin. Upstairs, Graziella listened as much with her heart as with her ears.

Sitting under the open window, she held her old violin and bow motionless in her lap. With eyes closed, she remembered the Vienna State Opera, just after the war. Life was hard, so very hard. Music helped them heal.

She could still hear the conductor’s tap tap tap. On cue, the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra began to play as one musical, magical creature, when hers was the First Chair Violin.
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To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

The Grand Opening: Fiction Friday

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

Copyright Kent Bonham

The Grand Opening

Excuse me!” Stacy kept her head down as she pushed through the crowd. She just had to be at the store’s grand opening. If only this had been winter, she could have hidden under a coat and hat until she got inside. Soon she’d be around people of her own kind, with similar interests, and they could talk without anyone gawking.

She stepped into the shop. In a moment lasting forever, she saw everyone stop talking, turning to look at her. Stacy blushed as red as the Star Trek uniform she wore.

Trak, not Trek? Not a Star Trek store?
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To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

The Latest Technology: Fiction Friday

Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.
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Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The Latest Technology

They’re coming!” Tommy warned.

Just one more,” Mike said. “Hold the ladder while I get down.”

Mike and Tommy scampered away, lugging the ladder out of sight. They could hear their father approaching, a handful of friends in tow.

Electricity is the latest technology,” Alexander explained. “No need for candles or kerosene. Lights up an entire room.”

As the group gathered in the foyer, Alexander flicked the light switch. Everyone looked up – and saw four forlorn-looking kittens on the light fixture, each illuminated by the light bulb next to it.

The kittens looked even more astonished than the men. “Meow.”
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To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

First Sunday After: Fiction Friday

Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.
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Copyright Raina Na

Copyright Raina Na

First Sunday After

Stopping in the doorway, Jackson looked at the empty kitchen. The funeral for Jackson’s grandfather was over; family members dispersed back to their own homes.

This Sunday morning, there was no Grandpa to bake biscuits, to scramble up some eggs. Jackson’s memory showed him Grandpa reaching for the coffee cups, hair uncombed, wearing his thread-bare robe, white socks keeping the cold floor at bay.

Sunlight shined through the curtains. Grandpa loved the Sunday sunrise. Jackson smiled. Taking down a coffee cup, he started the coffee machine, turned on the oven. Jackson would make the coffee and biscuits from now on.
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To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on the photo, select the smiley blue frog.

Bellona’s Bracelet: Fiction Friday

Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.
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Copyright C Hase

Copyright C Hase

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Bellona’s Bracelet

Bellona’s bracelet broke while battling the gods from the Greek isles. As their armies retreated, she searched the blood-stained beach, collecting as many bracelet links as possible before the sun set.

Washing off her blade, shield, and helmet in the sea, Bellona winced as the salt water washed into her wounds — wounds that would be healed by morning with only faint scars as a reminder. Tomorrow she would begin preparation for the next battle.

Carrying the broken bracelet pieces in her helmet, Bellona abandoned the beach, heading off to Vulcan’s fiery forge under the mountain. He would be expecting her.

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Bellona by Rembrandt, 1633

Bellona by Rembrandt, 1633

Bellona by Rembrandt, Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Friedsam Collection, Bequest of Michael Friedsam, 1931
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To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on the photo, select the smiley blue frog.

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Bellona is the Roman Goddess of War.