Category Archives: Friday Fictioneers

Could Be Worse: Fiction Friday

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

FF 106 Janet M Webb s

Photo copyright Janet M Webb

Could Be Worse

Michelle couldn’t believe her eyes. She’d been inside all day working overtime on a Saturday in the office building’s basement, alone. Insulated from sound and without any windows, she had no idea the storm arrived, depositing flash-flood level rains.

She’d just have to wait until the waters receded. She sighed, Saturday night at the office? How pathetic!

She retreated to the break room. Still, she thought, it could be worse. I hate getting my shoes wet. She noticed the vending machines were full, having been restocked Friday afternoon. “Orange Hostess Cupcakes in slot B-13,” she squealed in delight, “my favorite!”

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

On The Open Water: Fiction Friday

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

Photo copyright Jan Wayne Fields

Photo copyright Jan Wayne Fields

On The Open Water

“Not the best weather,” the skipper said, casting off.

“It never is,” Rakel replied, tying her scarf. She chartered the boat for the whole day, was the only passenger. On the open water, the winds whipped away her words, blurred her memories. Everything sounded and looked the same, yet everything sounded and looked different. She decided the white-capped waves were like snowflakes: each one was unique.

They returned to port in the late afternoon. Rakel wondered if the winds would find her, returning her words and memories to her after she moved away, into the mountains. She hoped they would.
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To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

The Scar: Fiction Friday (revisited)

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The Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo. As a brief summer respite, some prompts are being reused. This week’s prompt was my first Friday Fictioneer story (May 2014).

Photo copyright Sandra Crook

Photo copyright Sandra Crook

The Scar

Ow! A sheep bit Trina’s hand as her arm dangled out the window. Her index finger was bleeding, next to her scar. She bared her teeth, growling at the herd.

The scar. She had been five and the goat she was feeding nipped her finger, thinking it a treat. Nana cleaned, bandaged and kissed it to make it better. Nana was in a nursing facility now, but Trina hadn’t visited in months.

She looked at her scar again. Taking out her phone to video the sheep, Trina smiled. Sunday I’ll visit Nana. Lots to talk about this time.

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

The Letter: Friday Fiction

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

Photo copyright Jan Marler Morrill

Photo copyright Jan Marler Morrill

The Letter

Dominique moved to Old Town because it was all he could afford. The problem was the mail, or lack of it, really. His Nana wrote to him, once a week. (He was her favorite grandson.) Only the letters weren’t always delivered.

Complaining to the post office did no good. Old Town, they shrugged, maybe your door is too hard to find?

I’ll make it easy to find, Dominique decided. He painted his door and entryway blue. The next week, he was rewarded to find a lavender-scented envelope with old, slanted handwriting waiting for him: a letter from his beloved Nana.

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

The Shootout: Fiction Friday

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

Photo copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Photo copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The Shootout

“Anything from Mrs. Kravitz?”

“Nothing. Everyone else on her street saw or heard the shootout but she saw absolutely nothing! She has these fancy-schmancy glazed windows blocking her view. Her husband had them installed, she told me, to keep her from being nosy. I don’t think she likes them.”

As the detectives drove away, the neighbors heard the sound of breaking glass. They had created a betting pool to see how long the glazed windows lasted with Gladys, who had made it her business to know everyone else’s business. Her neighbor from across the street, Darrin Stephens, won the pool.
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With thanks and apologies to Gladys Kravitz of Betwitched (1964-1972).
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To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.