Fiction Friday: Family Reunion

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: Stolen by the Storm

Friday Fictioneer challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.
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a creekbed with a bridge over it; recent rains left twigs, branches and lots of trash under the bridge. Friday Fictioneer prompt. Copyright Sandra Crook

Friday Fictioneer prompt. Copyright Sandra Crook

Stolen by the Storm

Lindy knew what the creek bed would look like, under the bridge: rocks, branches, trash. She filled several bags with plastic bottles, broken toys, torn clothing, and any metal objects she could find.

In her shop, she built the trash into treasure, naming each piece “Stolen by the Storm” with the storm’s date. Lindy sold every piece she ever made, wondering if any buyers recognized some of the scrap components as their own. Did they purchase the artwork out of guilt, then, or were they happy to find a piece of their life that the storm had taken from them?
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Fiction Friday: The Soul of the Garden

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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Fiction Friday: The Bookmark

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

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Friday Fictioneer photo prompt.  Copyright Randy Mazie

Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Randy Mazie

The Bookmark

Gasping, Tom wobbled onto the grass, the world around him whirling in streaks of green, blue, and white. He managed only a few more steps before dropping the book, falling face down onto it. No one noticed as he quit breathing. If Tom had taken the time to open the book while still in the library, he would have found the bookmark, the one he’d given his wife, Helen, as a souvenir from one of his trips, the one she forgot to remove when returning the book they were both so very interested in, titled: How to Poison Your Spouse.

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Fiction Friday: Shattered Dreams

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

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Friday Fictioneer photo prompt.  Copyright Claire Fuller

Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Claire Fuller

A week after his father died, Lou locked the shop for the last time. When they buried his father, they buried Lou’s plans to join his father’s business after graduation.

Ten years later, on the anniversary of his father’s death, Lou stood in front of the shop, remembering his shattered dreams. He said goodbye to the life he had planned as a teenager. He looked at his watch, a Gucci limited edition, as his limo pulled up behind him. Life, he learned, rarely offered only one possibility. Lou had kept dreaming. His smile was bittersweet as he entered the limo.
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