Category Archives: Friday Fictioneers

Fiction Friday: Soup Spoons

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15

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

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Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Jan Wayne Fields

Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Jan Wayne Fields

Soup Spoons

Tim started setting the table on Monday. That’s when he noticed he didn’t have any soup spoons. The bus ride to Crate and Barrel took over an hour each way. While arranging his shiny, new spoons, he discovered his plates and bowls were chipped. Next day, back to the store for a whole new dinnerware set. Two days later: napkins, goblets and flatware.

Friday evening he surveyed his new, complete table setting. He was ready for his guests. His phone rang: “Dude,” Rod said, “about dinner tonight. We stopped at George’s and we’re having pizza. Wanna come over here instead?”

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Fiction Friday: A New Direction

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8

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

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Friday Fictioneer prompt. Copyright Jean L Hays

Friday Fictioneer prompt. Copyright Jean L Hays

A New Direction

Marcy was numb from the announcement that the parent company was closing her division, going in “a new direction.” In three short weeks she went from employed to invisible.

She looked up, frozen on the sidewalk. Stupid sign, Marcy thought. US Route 66 was just a memory. Take another way to Texas, or California. Can’t they let go of something that didn’t exist anymore?

Her thoughts echoed back, as if bouncing off the signs. She looked up again; saw Begin. She heard her own words. Take another way. Let go of what didn’t exist anymore.

She stepped forward, and began.

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Fiction Friday: Caledonia

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6

Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.
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Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Bjorn Rudberg

Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Bjorn Rudberg

Caledonia

Quintus woke with a vision: The Emperor Septimius Severus would not return to Rome, but would soon take his last breath beneath the northern sky of Britannia.

At dawn, Quintus broke his fast at his post on the Antonine Wall. His vision weighed heavily on his mind, for dangerous times followed an emperor’s death. He knew Rome was lost to him forever. Fleeing was risky; staying possibly even more so. To the north lay Caledonia, the only land not under Roman rule.

The next sunrise found his post abandoned, but with the news of the emperor’s death, no one noticed.
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The photographer is Bjorn Rudberg and his story is The Emigrant.

Fiction Friday: Family Reunion

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12

The Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.
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Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Douglas M MacIlroy

Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Douglas M MacIlroy

Family Reunion

Good, a nice crunchy cockroach. I hope it will be enough for the family reunion. I can’t remember who all is coming. Let’s see, 175 of my children, 327 grandchildren and 809 great-grandchildren. All those munchkins! I’m just going to call everyone Sweetie and Honey.

Guess it’s too much to expect everyone to behave for a few hours. Sheila won’t; she kills and eats her husband soon after they arrive; it’s always so embarrassing. (A new husband each year, too. Where does she find them?) The kids run all over, ripping up my web and then . . .

Oh, there’s the doorbell!
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Fiction Friday: The Soul of the Garden

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7

The Friday Fictioneer challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.
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Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Janet Webb

Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Janet Webb

The Soul of the Garden

Running steps thunder atop the path. Little arms push through brittle twigs and branches as white puffs of breath ascend and dissipate. Ice falls onto hats and coats, melting when coming in contact with children’s faces and hands. Echoes of their laughter seep into the leaves, stems and trunks, sinking through the roots, igniting a spark of time, of change, of warmth, of hope.

This message travels beneath the frozen earth, down and across, across and down, reaching all life in its suspended, wintry state. The soul of the garden awakens to the music of children’s laughter. Spring is nigh.
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