Fiction Friday: Tradition

Posted on July 25, 2014 by treshabarger

Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. Chopsticks in a paper sheath with the words: It is happiness enough to know one is superior to the fork people

Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. Copyright Marie Gail Stratford

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Sumiko remembered her grandmother, sobo Kasumi, wincing as she knelt down at the chabudai, her gnarled hands barely able to hold her bowl and chopsticks. Soon, Sobo Kasumi’s arthritis pain finally reached a point where she couldn’t grasp anything, or walk. She faded away a little each day until there was no life when the sun rose.

Sumiko’s grandchildren now followed tradition by calling her sobo Sumiko. Recalling their laughter, she smiled while digging into the microwaved dinner at her IKEA table. Tradition, she thought, grateful for her fork, knife and arthritis medicine, is sometimes best left to the young.
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Friday Fictioneers: Write a 100-word story based on the photo prompt.
To read other stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

Fiction Friday: So Close, Yet So Far

Posted on July 18, 2014 by treshabarger

Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. Copyright Adam Ickes

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The ram in the barn office didn’t look anything like the baby goats he bottle fed as a boy on Aunt Vera’s farm. Ted’s phone rang and he stepped outside for a better signal. He turned back around in time to bear the brunt of the ram’s rush in his stomach.

“Oof!”

“Baa!”

Ted fell, dropping his phone. As the ram gathered himself for another assault, Ted ran for dear life. Safely in the crook of the nearest tree, he watched the ram demolish his phone. He looked longingly at the house 100 yards off. So close, yet so far.
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Friday Fictioneers: Write a 100-word story based on the photo prompt.
To read other stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

Fiction Friday: From Now On

Posted on July 11, 2014 by treshabarger

Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Kelly Sands

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Charlie’s mirror shows him a teenage boy with disheveled hair, mismatched shirt and pants, scuffed shoes, worn jacket. I’ll save my tips and change that, he thinks.

Leaving the house, he looks up at the cloud cover, smiling. The early cold front dropped the temperatures noticeably. His uncle called, asking him to play his guitar on the café patio with the fire pit. “I need something extra to keep customers happy,” his uncle said.

Humming as he walks to his first gig, Charlie deems the clouds lucky instead of gloomy, and decides to introduce himself as Charles from now on.
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Friday Fictioneers: Write a 100-word story based on the photo prompt.
To read other stories based on this photo, select the smiley blue frog.

Fiction Friday: Just A Matter Of Time

Posted on July 4, 2014 by treshabarger

Friday Fictioneer photo prompt: An ancient statue of a crowned man. Copyright Claire Fuller

Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Claire Fuller

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He opened his eyes; he didn’t recognize this place. Slowly he remembered: the war between the old gods, the mistake leading to his capture. They imprisoned him in marble and buried him deep, where no mortal would ever find him.

Only they had found him, millennia later, freeing him from his tomb.

Just as it had thousands of years ago, the sun rose. Immersed in sunlight, he felt a stirring. Each sunrise would help him reclaim his life, his birthright. It might take centuries, he knew, to return this marble to flesh, but it was just a matter of time.
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Friday Fictioneers: Write a 100-word story based on the photo prompt.
To read other stories based on this photo prompt, select the smiley blue frog:

Fiction Friday: The Last Time

Posted on June 27, 2014 by treshabarger

Friday Fictioneer photo prompt. Copyright Madison Woods

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He set up camp and leaned against the Skull Tree, their secret meeting place, remembering how they planned their future here. All their decisions over the years: which college, which military branch, which career field; the Skull Tree always approved.

She loved flying helicopters, wanted to fly them forever. Shot down in battle, her forever was forever over. He hung her dog tags from the upturned horn. Tonight, he knew, was the last time they’d be together. He would dream of her once more, but never again. As it swirled leaves around him, cushioning his grief, the Skull Tree wept.
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Friday Fictioneers: Write a 100-word story based on the photo prompt.

To read other stories based on this photo prompt, select the smiley blue frog:

It's a long story …

a light-hearted look at life by Tresha Barger

Tag Archives: Writing