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

Photo copyright Rich Voza

Just What Was Going On

“When does the sun finish rising?”

“Some days earlier, in the summer, some days later, in the winter. The moon, too, is different every day.”

Different every day? She wanted to believe her mother, but thought some independent verification was needed. Parents, Jenny learned in her eight and a half years, sometimes said silly things, things that weren’t always true. As soon as they got home from the airport, Jenny was going to turn on her computer and find out just what was going on. Tomorrow, she planned to get up before dawn to make sure this wasn’t a joke.
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To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

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

Photo copyright John Nixon

Wizard in the Wurlitzer

Wilbert woke up with a crick in his neck. He tried to rub his neck but found his hands stuck in between some strings.

Oh, no, not again. Where am I this time? Wilbert breathed deeply to calm himself. He opened his eyes. It was too dark to see anything. One thing he knew for sure, he was stuck. Those stupid dreams! Asleep, Wilbert the Wizard cast spells real enough to take effect, but they were always just a little bit off kilter.

He wriggled his legs, banging his knees against the keys. A piano? I’m stuck in a piano?
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To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

~~~ For a special treat, check out the Friday Fictioneer story, The Last Dance, by Louise Jensen over at Fabricating Fiction. 
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The Friday Fictioneer Challenge: Write a 100-word story based on the photo.

Photo copyright Piya Singh

All Alone

“Mother, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m downsizing. It’s happens when people retire, you know.”

“Yeah, but . . . “

“Don’t ‘Yeah, but’ me, Henry, it’s a done deal.”

“But it’s so small! Where will people stay when they come visit?”

“In a hotel, dear. It’s not rocket science.”

Henry tried again to dissuade his mother from moving into the stone cottage. “What if it’s haunted? You can’t even see your neighbor’s house from here. You will be all alone!”

She smiled at the thought. All alone, for the first time in my entire life. “That’s the whole point, dear.”
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To read other Friday Fictioneer stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

For a special treat, check out Chioma’s story, The Vale, in verse.
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