Category Archives: Fiction

Short Fiction

Feather Cloud #writephoto

Feather Cloud – Image by A Kehas

I lay down in feathered sleep where dreams and visions mix with the real world around me.  The spirits of the ancestors surrounded me and spoke to me as I floated in the part trance, part waking, part sleep that was so important to the Seeing. 

I say the ancestors surrounded me, but that was not quite true.  I knew the stories and legends and so understood that our people had moved in from the west and the way east was unexplored.  Yes, we have journeyed for days to the east, but never venturing beyond what we knew was safe.

The cold winters have become colder, the glacier has approached.  We had moved from the land of the ancestors to the west when my grandfather’s grandfather was a small child.  We occasionally met with our kin, but they have grown strange.

Or we have.

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The Porthole

PHOTO PROMPT© Roger Bultot

I really like Grandpa’s study, but it is a bit creepy.  You see, he has a porthole to another world, a world that is strange and distorted.

My older brother tells me that I am full of beans, that I’m just seeing a mirror.  But why does it look so funny?  He said it’s “con-hexed” or something.  I knew there was magic involved!

When I asked Mom, she said, “Go ask Alice.  I think she’ll know.”

Who’s Alice?

And why did Uncle Bill laugh and call Mom “Grace”?

Grandpa is no longer here.

He must have gone through the porthole.

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word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo by @ Roger Bultot . If you want to join or see other stories, go to the inlinkz linkup.

Subsea #writephoto

Subsea – Image by KL Caley

Ed couldn’t believe his luck.

It was in relatively shallow water and pretty close to the coast.  It was off of the beaten path, but still within an area known to tourists. It should not have existed, but there it was.

He rushed back to his room and did some searches, just to make sure it wasn’t known.  He was positive he would have seen something about it if it were well known, but he had to look.

Ed was touring the Greek isles and was spending a day snorkeling just off of one of the lesser-known ones.  He wasn’t an expert or anything, but he enjoyed it, and the crystal-clear water was just so amazing.

But then he had found it.

An ancient shipwreck.

Though shallow, it was too deep for him to do more than catch a glimpse of some perfectly preserved timber and a few large jars or amphora. 

How had this gone unnoticed?  Had a storm recently cleared off the sand and silt, exposing it for the first time in millennia?  It didn’t matter, it was there and he knew that he was the first to see it.

Of course, he would report it.  He had to.  But he decided to go back out and take another look.  Of course, taking anything would be completely illegal, but if something small, say a coin, somehow stuck to his hand, well…

Ed hyperventilated for a moment, took a huge breath, grabbed the heavy rock off of his inflatable, and dove with the help of that weight.

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Aliens

PHOTO PROMPT© Na’ama Yehuda

…so the entire invasion fleet descended on the unsuspecting Earth, those mighty, golden battle stations promising high energy death!  Unfortunately, due to a size miscalculation, as well as a misunderstanding of the exact “hardness” of Earth, the entire fleet was destroyed when a cat nudged each battle station off of the picnic table where they landed.  One, however, was saved by a crow who liked the shiny object and…

Give me a break!  It’s just a Christmas bulb someone left in the tree as decoration!  Boys…

Christmas bulb?!?  Wow, it is so sad how deluded some people can be.  Girls…

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word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo © Na’ama Yehuda. Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “Linky“.

Community #writephoto

Community – Image by KL Caley

Notice to all staff members,

We at Corporation believe in Community!  To help create a better sense of community and show the importance of Diversity within Corporation, you are invited to watch the mandatory hour long video on Community.  The lovable animated toys will help you appreciate your coworkers as we make Corporation a better place for all!

HR – Creating a Better Work Environment Through a Better You!

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Looking for the Ideal Location

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

We entered town on the old state highway, following the railroad tracks past boarded up businesses and huge, empty warehouses.  In my mind I saw the other side of town, the garden that grew parking lots, strip malls and fast food on approach to the interstate.

Those flowers of the 2020s wouldn’t do.

This plot of the 1930s, though, was perfect.

We stopped in front of an empty warehouse and I got out.

We could set up and nobody would know.

But then I saw the CCTV cameras.

Glancing at the boss’ casket, I left town. 

We’d find a place.

***

word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo © J Hardy Carroll . Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “Linky“.

July Journey

PHOTO PROMPT © Russell Gayer

Waves of shimmering heat rose off of the broken asphalt.

I mopped my brow.

“Fields gone to weeds.”

“Yep.” Meg had said little beyond single syllables since we had crossed the fence.

We paused in shade where the Smith’s place once was.

Except that the lawn was now a hayfield, it looked fine, until we left.  The back half of the barn had collapsed.

That next oasis of trees beckoned.

A quick inspection relieved the worst of our fears.

Looking deeper, I could feel every year since we were evacuated after the accident.

“Home.” Meg had tears in her eyes.

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word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo © Russell Gayer. Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “Linky“.

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I may not get to many stories this week as I will be journeying home after (Covid enforced) years away and so will be off line.

Tree Man #writephoto

Tree Man – Image by Willowdot21

We called him “The Tree Man”.

I used to beg Mom to pass by the Tree Man’s house all of the time, even though I knew it was many miles out of the way.

Sometimes she humored me and we took that detour.

The house was lost in a jungle of overgrown underbrush and grass gone wild.  All of this was in the shadows of five giant, ancient trees.

Around the yard he had planted strange sculpture carved from tree trunks.  There were several up front with a “For Sale” sign, but most of them hid and creeped through his semi-suburban, semi-rural forest.  Over the years I don’t think one of the “For Sale” sculptures were changed, neither a new one added nor an old one sold.

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To Catch a Child’s Imagination

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

“They’re sleeping,” the waiter said.  He bent down to Jimmy’s height.  “Have you ever seen a tree sleep?”

Jimmy, staring wide-eyed at the four large downed trees, shook his head.

Looking at the emergency tape and remembering the nasty storm the night before, I asked, “When will these ‘sleeping trees’ stand back up?”

“They missed their alarm this morning, so we aren’t sure.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll be up real soon,” Jimmy said.

It was when we came by a few hours later to find all four trees standing and healthy that I realized that Jimmy had inherited my great-grandfather’s magic.

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word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo © Brenda Cox. Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “Linky“.

The Fisherman #writephoto

The Fisherman – Image by KL Caley

I came to the top of the little bluff and froze for a second before instinct kicked in.  Had I been seen?  I allowed myself a quick peak at the fisherman.  He was concentrating on his fly and hadn’t turned my direction, not even flinched. I was sure I hadn’t been noticed.

It had been months since there had been any pursuit.  Even the dogs were worthless when I didn’t want to be found. 

On the other hand, just because there was no active search didn’t mean they weren’t still looking for me.  My guess is that I’d either have to figure out how to resurface with a completely new identity or spend the rest of my life out here, on the run.

I loved the wilderness, so no hurry in finding that identity.

And I loved this little patch of relatively still water, a hidden spot far from the casual person’s eyes, the perfect little private trout “pond”.

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