Tag Archives: micro fiction

Come Hell or High Water

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

I watched the palm trees do their calisthenics as the rain lashed the restaurant window. 

The flight was obviously cancelled again and so here I was, stuck in a stupid hotel as Ralph or Romeo or whatever the Hell they call him grinds up central Florida.

I gulp the whiskey instead of sip it.

Damn, it was just my luck, wasn’t it?

One thing after another.  Would I ever get a break?

My phone vibrated.

Next launch window in two weeks.

Come Hell or high water, or both at once, as now, I’d be the first man on Mars yet.

***

word count = 100

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

The Trouble with…

PHOTO PROMPT © Trish Nankeville

What was he doing at the garden center?

It had been a long day, perhaps something deep in his subconscious told him to do this to relax.  Plants were calming, weren’t they?

Five minutes later he was leaving with a live plant.  There was something irresistible about those flowers.

It was funny what the checkout clerk said.  These plants had been selling like hotcakes since they arrived and yet the stock hadn’t been depleted.

Perhaps he’d do better with these than most plants he’d tried.

In the huge silver spaceship, the beings were happy.  Their invasion was going as planned.

***

word count = 100

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

Act Three

PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

I remember Pastor Jim using the captain’s console as a pulpit and the choir sitting up front. We’d all watch from shore.  After a spot on national TV, he was a star.  Took all the money and built the church of his dreams.

That place?  Really?

We’re a small town, you know.

And now that he’s made the big time, he’s selling the boat?

Well, sort of. 

Sort of?

He was awful, people only came for the spectacle of his being on the water.  Pastor Jim is selling the boat to raise funds to convert the church into a restaurant.

***

word count = 100

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

Arriving UFO

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

I’d just passed into the backyard through the breezeway between the barn and
house and froze.

Light!

I stared straight ahead and thought, “Straight ahead.”

The light that appeared without a sound had straight edges and the shadows
of my legs were parallel with those edges.

Impossible.

I turned towards the glare in the breezeway, using a hand to shield my eyes
from the UFO.

“Hi!  Come here.”

The alien sounded just like John Brewer.

Stepping onto the drive I only half noticed that the light,
which spread everywhere, was channeled by the breezeway.

“Check out my new electric car!”

***

OK, the first thing I noticed about the photo was the crisp lines… For some reason my first thought was “Arriving UFO”

word count = 100

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

*

I’ve been away from about a month and may not be 100% back… I will try to read everyone’s stories, but might not have time to catch all. (edit – maybe not so hard if this few people join this week!)

The Indignity of it All!

PHOTO PROMPT © Fleur Lind

I had a pretty good life.

Well, OK, maybe not so great, and that ending…  Did I just say “well”?

Maybe I should say I had a pretty good after-life.

Had.

I loved mixing with the people, that look on their faces when they became aware that I was there!  Priceless.

Ah the memories!

And then the put a glass tabletop over my well.  My well! 

And suddenly, here I am, a tourist attraction.  All the jerks trying to get pictures of me with their cell phones.

I’ve become a tourist attraction.

I could just die.

Except I’m already dead…

***

word count = 100

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

Study Aides

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

I came to a stop on Linden Circle.  I was about to go on when I noticed the sign and sighed.  I had to make the call.

“Hi Mr. Driscoll.  You know that it is public property and changes need to go through the proper channels… “

“Oui.”

“When can you put the real one back?  I don’t want to fill out an official report.”

“Quatre heures et demie.”

“Make it so.”

“Oui, Officer Perkins.”

I hung up and stared at the French teacher’s latest bit of what the town called “vandalism” and he called “study aides.”

“Arrêt.” 

I laughed.

***

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.

Random Memories

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

I lived there until I was six.

We just rented the ancient museum-like house.

I have clear memories about the place, but many are based on childish fantasies.

I remember my brother and sister talking about a flying saucer landing at the adjacent school and I half remember seeing it as well.

There was the little old lady at the spinning wheel.  Did I see her or was it just the suggestion repeated over and over by older siblings?

The town has changed so much, but the house is still there.

I wonder if the spinning wheel is as well…

***

word count = 100

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

*

Yes, based on reality. I don’t remember seeing the flying saucer, but I member all three of my siblings talking about it for years after the event. I don’t really remember the spinning wheel in the attic, but I remember telling my neighbor that I saw it moving by itself and I know I believed it, even if I now don’t have the image (I was not allowed in the attic, which is a kid magnate). I will not say how old I am, but let’s just say Jimi and Janis were still alive when we moved…

Monthly Gathering

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

“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.

Life, Second Hand

PHOTO PROMPT © John Nixon

They say many have a special place that is all important.  They become part of it and it becomes part of them.

Others have an attachment to a defining thing, or even an idea.

I have been thinking about my life and wondering. What else can I do with the time?

I can remember sitting in Mother’s lap as she told me how pretty I will someday be in my wedding dress. She never called me pretty.

Perhaps I was more fixated on the dress than the man.

That same dress I was wearing as my new husband murdered me.

***

word count = 100

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

**

I have been away from Friday Fictioneers for a few weeks. I am hoping I will have time this week to read other posts…

The Bucket #writephoto

Photo by KL Caley

I’m not the type to relax on the beach, and I would never think of sleeping.  I might sit for a minute and people watch.  I might even read for a few.  But relax?  No, relaxing is walking or swimming, or exploring or, well, just about anything in the world other than just sitting.  Sitting on a hot beach was my personal idea of Hell on Earth.  The idea of sleeping on a beach was repugnant.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up.

Of course it took me a moment to establish were I was, and then another moment to recall sitting down to dry after a quick swim.  How had I fallen asleep?

I have no idea why it took me so long to realize that the beach was completely empty.  

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