Tag Archives: Fiction


PHOTO PROMPT © Carole Erdman-Grant

There was a rumor that one town survived the collapse and continued on as if nothing happened.  After Mark was murdered for a 15-year-old can of green beans, I went in search of the modern-day Eldorado.

I kept my treasure close, a real-life paper map, printed a decade before the collapse.

There was a red “X” on one town.

I’d find it.

Three months, at the map’s “X”, I saw a glow on the horizon.  That was it!  I hadn’t seen such a glow since the collapse.

The next day I found the recently burned-out husk of my dream Eldorado.


word count = 100

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


PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Just two blocks from the theater district and the world had changed.

The city had always frightened Kim.  She would never think of straying beyond her comfort zone, but here she was.

Robert had dropped her for the matinée in front of the Wang, not the Colonial. She had never walked there, but was it really that hard?

“Ma’am, wait, hold on…”

Kim barged forward to escape the dark face calling to her.

She didn’t see it until too late.

Now when she visits the city, Kim makes sure she spends time in “her neighborhood” with the “world’s friendliest people”.


I drew a blank at first, but the photo reminded me of a section of Boston close to the theater district. It is an area that someone from a rich suburb who never visits the city might find scary, though it isn’t at all, and few spots int he city are scary during the day… So, a little story about the breaking of unfair biases…


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.

The Door

Photo by Anonymous (use only for Friday Fictioneer prompt)

It all stopped at the door.

The door was spotless and gleaming.  The little alcove between the door and the iron gate was filled with dust and debris.  The gate had never opened in Robbie’s memory, but every so often a potted plant would appear, as if to shout that there was life beyond that door, and just as suddenly it would disappear.

Robbie often wondered what lay beyond that door.  In his imagination he saw a beautiful princess awaiting rescue.

With a sigh he turned back to that wasteland that once was a city, years before he was born.


word count = 100

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

In a Dime Store Novel

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Inspector Darren sighed.  Never in his life did he expect to be investigating a real “locked door” murder, as clichéd as something in a pulp mystery novel.

He turned away from the gruesome exhibit and studied the bookshelf.  Who was this woman, Ms. Peterson?

Hmm, Italian, French and English.

“Three copies of Les Mis’.  Figures.”

He reached out to take one then jumped back as a head appeared.

“Who let the cat in to destroy evidence?”

“Nobody, the cat is right, hmm….”

Inspector Darren smiled, pulled the three copies of Hugo uncovering the latch.  Just like in the cheap paperbacks.


word count = 100

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

Deeper #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

It had been a hard day.  I went straight to my room and flopped down on the bed.  I didn’t even take off my jacket.

Deeper and deeper into the abyss. 

I didn’t try to sleep, just stared at the ceiling seeing nothing.

Black, only black.

My cell rang.

Swirling water, a whirlpool, sucking me down.

Continue reading

Guarded #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent


Tom glanced over his shoulder at Cheryl.  She just watched her feet as they trod the almost empty landscape.

He wasn’t the type to pry, and thought he did pretty well to only bring it up then, but it did bug him.

Where had she gone?

After dinner she had said that she needed a short walk to help digest.  Fine.  Alone.  Not a problem, he’d go back to the room.

She showed up over two hours later.

Not a word was said. 

In fact, very little was said at all since then.  She was quiet, guarded, all through breakfast, only speaking in mono-syllables if spoken to. 

They were there through an odd series of coincidences.

Tom thought back as they hiked across the open moorland.

Continue reading

Return #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

It’s getting cold, very cold.

I look up at the dark ridge where I last saw him silhouetted against the sinking sun.

It continues to scream its emptiness.

I had always heard that he was the type to hold a grudge, so was a little surprised when he called me. After a nice, amicable chat we decided to go hiking in the mountains.  We both loved getting out into the fresh air, though I had to admit that he was a better, stronger hiker.

He drove us out into deep wilderness.  Perfect.  We didn’t see a person all day.

I have no idea what happened.  The day had been long and I was very tired.  Making mistakes. Having a hard time with footing.

Continue reading

It’s Cold Outside

Rob paused at the door.  Pa had gone into his special grove, as he did most days.  Sometimes he’d just go in, whisper a few words, and then quickly catch up to Rob.  Other times he might spend a half an hour or more, silently staring at the ground and that little bit of granite.  Or that is what he used to do.  Rob hadn’t followed him back in there in a few years, at least since he was 10.  Now almost 13, he knew better than disturb Pa in his special place.

Satisfied that Pa wasn’t right behind him, Rob put the numbers into the cipher lock. 

Pa had built the little three-room entryway ages ago, just after the Collapse, but over the years, Rob had helped him flesh it out. 

Still not seeing Pa, he let the door shut and lock.  Nobody had ever tried to break in, at least not that he knew of, but there were crazies out there and there would be Hell to pay if Pa found the door open.

Continue reading

Launch of D. Wallace Peach’s Liars and Thieves

Hi all! Today I have author D. Wallace Peach over for the book launch of her latest, Liars and Thieves, the first book of her new fantasy series: Unraveling the Veil. And what is this book about? Let’s take a look!


Behind the Veil, the hordes gather, eager to savage the world. But Kalann il Drakk, First of Chaos, is untroubled by the shimmering wall that holds his beasts at bay. For if he cannot cleanse the land of life, the races will do it for him. All he needs is a spark to light the fire.

Three unlikely allies stand in his way.

A misfit elf plagued by failure—

Continue reading

Capturing the Essence


Matt jumped.

He had done it again, descended so far into his work that he lost himself.  The little beep, to let him know someone had entered the gallery, had snatched him back to the present.

He pushed away from the easel.  He always fretted that he’d never get back to that spot to continue, to finish, but he always did find his way there, and being a color pencil drawing, he didn’t have to worry about what dried and what didn’t.

Matt turned off the light and moved to the window at the door from the studio to the gallery.  From the gallery side the widow was a mirror.  Matt liked to know who was there before he entered.

The woman was only a few steps inside, doing a slow sweep of the shop as if lost.  Her eyes were wide and her mouth slightly open.  She took a tentative step and stopped again, staring at a painting.

Matt hesitated.  Something about the woman.  Her lines. He grabbed a sketchbook and drew a 10 second gesture.  Not quite it.  The rhythm of her body was off. Continue reading