“Hey, Ma, come look at this.”

“One minute.”

I finished the transaction and grabbed the basket with a few jars of canned fruit and veggies.

We walked through the little booths and trucks that had gathered in the middle of the dusty plain.  I only glanced at the goods and food on display.  Some looked interesting, but I knew the basket would be my only purchase this month.

The truck Jimmy wanted to show me was at the edge, near the solar panels and charging stations.

I stopped.

“What are those?” Jimmy asked.

The tears came unbidden.

“Flowers,” I said.

***

word count = 100

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

Never a thought for anyone but himself.

I drove home, that self-righteous voice narrating my way.

He would mutter his “’Morning” and paid no attention to me after that.

And then yesterday he snapped when I dared walk into his office!

Seems to think he can do everything by himself?  Fine.  Let him cross the Styx by himself.

Imagine my surprise when I got home and found the single rose and the note apologizing for his behavior as he finished his super important project at work, the note that promised a special second honeymoon where ever I wanted to go.

***

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.

What a rough night.  It’s Spring, but still frigid, and last night’s rot-gut barely cut the edge before it was gone. I was shivering so much that I even spilled some of the precious fluid. 

Well, I have been shivering even when it is warm for a while, and sweating even when it’s freezing.  Stupid world.

Damn, though, it’s cold.  I can’t move, seem frozen to the spot.

I don’t remember coming to this garden, but all I see are flowers and people in heavy coats.

Here comes someone with a blanket.  Why did they put it over my face?

***

word count = 100

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

Brother Ray oozed from the ancient ex-police cruiser’s updated speakers.  The 440 Magnum purred counter melody, ready to scream forth if called on.

We were on a mission from God.

OK, maybe not, but trying to follow Jake and Ellwood, we needed some divine help.

“Are you sure this is where they filmed it?”

“Yeah.  See the ‘L’?”

“No way could a car go 110 through there.”

Dan popped out the cassette and put in the Peter Gunn Theme song.

“It’s night, we’re wearing sunglasses, hit it.”

A member of Chicago’s finest put an end to it before it started.

***

word count = 100

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

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.