It was great!  After many years of struggle and hard work, they were finally an “overnight success”, the unknown band tearing up the charts.  All they had to do was a tour to support their debut album, and all was gold.

“Did you read the news?”

“It’s getting worse.”

“Boston just cancelled.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a big college town…”

“Ha ha, Mr. Spinal Tap…”

“What are we going to do?”

“We’re no longer on the Billboard top 100.”

“Sorry guys, we’ll have to cancel the tour.”

“And we thought 2020 would be our year to hit the big time?”

***

Word count = 100

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

**

OK, cliche for the day, but I did want to get that Spinal Tap reference in a FF story for so long, so… ;)

Also, I may not be able to visit in the next few days. Sorry. I’ll try, but ultra-busy at work

The chair was uncomfortable.  Very uncomfortable.  I didn’t remember that.

I studied the desk, toying with various objects on it.  Why in the Hell did I need any of it?

Paper, paper, everything had to do with paper!

Scissors, tape, stapler, highlighters and paperclips.  Paperclips!  There were more of those than anything.

I had been working from home for over a year and discovered that 99.999% of the paper we used in the office was completely useless.  Despite not being face-to-face, our productivity was up and our expenses down. 

Bob dropped a ream of paper on my desk.

“Welcome back!”

***

Word count = 100

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

“One, two, three – what do I see?” My words were slurred.  “Four, five, six – stucco instead of bricks.”

Home for Spring Break, I found myself in front of number 456.

I had never seen a person there nor a light on. Ever.  Who took care of the flowers?  I was about to find out.

I took another sip from the flask before daring the stairs.

I reached the top.  The mystery of “Malibu Home in Minnesota” was about to be solved.

Inside seemed normal at first.  Out of the windows I could see the suns set over the mountains.

***

OK, I get the hint.  This is part 2 of my FF story, though I hope it can be read as a standalone as well…

***

Word count = 100

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

As a kid I always wondered about number 345. Oddly enough, it sat between 337 and 351, as if an entire block was missing.  But that was just the start.

Old number 345 was a typical Mediterranean Revival with bold turquoise shutters, a tile roof and adobe walls.  My sister Karen joked that Malibu Barbie lived there.

It was a bit out of place in northern Minnesota.

The flowering plants were great, particularly when it was 20 below zero.

I thought perhaps when the owners moved house, they did it literally.

Of course the truth is far stranger than that.

***

Word count = 100

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

Yeah, Ma, things have really changed since I’ve been here.  These cruise ships now are larger than major cities and are filled with phone-zombies.  You know the type.  Surrounded by beauty and all they see is a screen.  Occasionally they’ll take selfies with their phones, but other than that it is all texts, Twitter, Twatter, and Whatnot.

Everybody is constantly on their mobiles, and I mean everybody.

Wait a minute Ma, someone is shouting at me.

Sorry, gotta go.  I was climbing a tree to get a tourist some coconuts when I called.  Yeah, I’ll post the coconuts on Instagram.

***

Word count = 100

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

The kids’d a been looking forward to the party for ages.

Got em dressed in their finest and had em outside to play games and drink the last of the soda while Derek packed up what he could and destroyed the rest.  They weren’t getting our things, no way!

“Fireworks for your birthday,” I said when the sky lit up and the ground shook.  The kids clapped at each new blast, but I could tell they were getting closer.

“Going to Nana’s,” I lied as we got in the car.

No going back, I thought as I stroked Em’s hair.

***

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“.

Day 4

It is difficult to go anywhere and not see signs of what was the dominate species.  Everywhere you look abandoned structures liter the landscape.  Their population had collapsed seemingly overnight about a century before we arrived.  Did any survive?

Day 9

Studying artifacts, we are piecing together their final days, but no living specimens found.

Day 24

Conclusive evidence proves they are extinct.  In the last century of their existence they drove tens of thousands of other species to extinction, they filled their seas with artificial materials and changed their climate.  They could have stopped it.  Good riddance.

***

Word count = 100

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

Some smiled at the young man.  Others noticed his shivers and asked if they could help.  Most were friendly.  This was their place, carved out ages ago by their families.  The building the young man watched had welcomed their parents, their grandparents and, even, for a few, their great-great-grandparents.

But there were some who didn’t smile.

Josh made a few calls on his mobile, had a few whispered conversations.

When the stranger pulled out the AK-47, the police were ready. Not a shot was fired.

All anyone could ask was how could this safe place, their place, become so dangerous?

***

With another recent shooting I had to go to a dark place. It is so awful that hatred seems to have taken over so much of our country.

***

Word count = 100

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