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Friday Fictioneers- Weathering Minds

Photo prompt by Russell Gayer

100 Words


“Robbie I’m scared” Rebecca whined.

The cryptic patterns of the hillside seemed to shift in our dehydration. As if they were living, writhing like tentacles.

“Calm down babe,” I cooed. “It’s just weathering on the sandstone.”

I looked back at our wreaked minivan. It was blurred in the heat haze on the horizon.

“It looks so alive!”

It’s all in your head!” I shouted.

I wasn’t entirely sure though.

The squirming dune to our left was non-relenting. A burst of wind howled through it’s winding creases. I grabbed Rebecca by the hand.

“It’s not real, but walk faster.” I whispered.


This story was written as part of Friday Fictioneers. Every week there is a prompt that is accompanied by story 100 words or less! Click here to read more amazing stories inspired by this photo prompt!

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Friday Fictioneers- South Side

Photo prompt courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

100 words


When I was fourteen years old they finished construction of the Bay street bridge. It connected the north and south sides of Mindenville.

I had many fond memories crossing that bridge to see Betty, my girlfriend since middle school. She lived on the south side of town.

Its funny how fast things fall apart.

Heroin hit Mindenville hard in 1994. Soon after Betty stopped going to school. More often than not, I would find her under that bridge.

When she died I left Mindenville.

I pass through sometimes on business.

I always spit out the window when I cross the bridge.


Be sure to check out other takes on this week’s prompt!

Friday Fictioneers- Her Collection

Photo courtesy of Sandra Crook

100 Words


Sasha fingered through her collection of driftwood, shells and carbonate rocks. With sudden anger, she swept the treasures off the table with a swift arm. They cracked and shattered on the floor.

I watched from the open doorway as she collapsed onto her knees and wept.

Since she was a girl, she saw magic in the world. It was hiding on the cusp of the Pacific.

Last night she had gone out to watch turtles hatch on the beach.

Last night she was pulled off the sand and into a stranger’s truck.

I could tell that the magic was gone.


Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers- Check out more takes on the photo prompt with the link below!

Playtime

My girlfriend challenged me to write a story using the words-

Prince, Princess, Ostrich, Lemon Orchard, Lemons, A Lemonade Stand, Volcano, Museum, Balloon, Love, and Shepard’s Pie.

 

Prince Castor dismounted after a three day stretch of riding. He groaned as he landed sharply on his aching feet. His steed cooed and flapped its awkward wings. The large armored ostrich instantly began to wander away.

“No loyalty. No loyalty whatsoever.” He grabbed at the reins and led the animal to water. “I’m starting to wish I’d splurged and put a downpayment on that mustang.”

Castor hushed when a strange sound wafted towards him. It was singing. A woman singing.

He tied off his steed and followed the sweet solo symphony through the thicket. The song got louder until a beautiful maiden was in view. She was hard at work, standing on her toes to pick the juiciest lemons from the top of the tree.

“Excuse me!” Castor exclaimed as he burst through the brush.

The woman let out a short scream before losing balance and hitting the ground. Castor jogged over to her in a panic.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

She slapped him across the face. Her cheeks flushed red.

“That’s no way to greet a princess!” She busied herself grabbing for the lemons that had fallen out of her basket. “What are you doing? Help me!”

Castor hurriedly jumped from stray lemon to stray lemon. He figured this was as good a time as any to get to know this woman.

“Soooo, what is a princess like you doing in a lemon orchard of all places?”

“For my lemonade stand of course!”

Prince Castor stood confused for a moment.

“Wait, Sarah I thought we were playing pretend- are you actually opening a lemonade stand?”

“Well, yeah. I thought we could do both.”

“Oh, okay. Gotcha.”

Castor shook himself out of his stupor.

“Well princess, we’re gonna need sugar if you want lemonade!” He grinned.

Princess Sarah giggled and gestured for Castor to follow her into the house. He wandered through the back door but was stopped before his first step.

“Wait! I forgot that I live in a volcano and the floor is lava!”

Castor could feel the crackling heat radiating from below him instantaneously. He pivoted his head frantically, hoping to find anything safe to touch. He spotted a large washing machine to his left and without thinking, jumped toward it and scrambled on top. He looked down at Sarah and beamed.

She sighed and calmly walked back outside. She returned thirty seconds later with a balloon tied around her wrist.

“This magic balloon lets me float over the lava.”

Castor gasped in amazement as the princess levitated over the bubbling molten rock with ease. He struggled to jump from chair to chair in order to keep up. They moved through the laundry room of the volcano and into the main magma hallway. About halfway through the atmosphere changed.

“Wait!” Castor whispered in a harsh tone. “We’re in a museum now, we need to steal the sugar without being detected.”

Sarah pulled her ski mask over her face. “Oh yeah, that’s right.”

The pair walked with their backs against the wall. Careful to keep their shadow profiles out of the sunlight. A large man walked by and stood in front of the pair. They were found out!

“Hey you two! Still playing I see.” He paused for a second to think. “I think there’s some leftover shepherd’s pie in the fridge. I could microwave some if you’re hungry.”

Sarah and Castor looked at each other for a moment and then ran into the kitchen, arms flailing. This time there were no filters on what they saw. Sarah’s dad set two piping hot bowls of shepherd’s pie on the table. Sarah and Castor didn’t hesitate to jump into a couple chairs that were already pulled out. The food was made with love. It was the same feeling that brought Castor to their door asking if Sarah could play.

“They make a cute couple.” Sarah’s dad muttered under his breath as he watched them dig in and reminisce about the adventures they had been through today.

Friday Fictioneers- Genesis

Photo prompt courtesy of J Hardy Carroll

100 words


The clock had taunted me for weeks. I drove by the house every night for merely a glimpse.

Tonight I had decided to make it mine.

The door was unlocked, it creaked mercilessly as it opened.

I walked to the parlor where the clock stood grandly overlooking the room. The moonlight brushed its ornate design. When the minute hand of the clock hit twelve, a deep bell chimed.

While I stood there in awe, the lights flipped on.

A woman froze with her finger still on the switch.

We made eye contact.

She didn’t scream loud enough to save her.


For the sequel please refer to my previous Friday Fictioneers post- The Criminal

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