The ally called Meg, or at least the shops called.

Greg said he’d sit for a while in the pub he’d noticed by the docks.

The man with the bottle of whiskey, “Bill” (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) was interesting.  In fact, his tale about Singapore was so enthralling Greg barely noticed the knife fight.

Greg waved off the guy with his offers of drugs and the woman who offered more.

When 8 police-members, guns drawn, arrested “Bill”, Greg figured he’d find Meg.

“You should have come,” Meg said as they ate.  “I wonder what happened to your sense of adventure!”

***

word count = 100

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

125 years ago, the room was filled with Vanderbilts, Carnegies and Rockefellers.  Now it’s a top restaurant. 

I looked forward to meeting my future in-laws there.

The jeans were out of place, as were the comments about the chandelier of broken dishes.  The loud laughter at the sommelier was more embarrassing than them using the wrong forks, as was their pointing at the French Ambassador’s wife’s hat.

When the manager approached, I thought he’d ask us to leave.

To my surprise, he knew Tina’s parents by name.

As we left, “Pops” said, “Next time I’ll take you some place nice.”

***

word count = 100

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

Physics, Calculus and Chemistry – why are all midterms on the same day?

And Mike had no clean underwear.

At least the laundry would be empty.

There were clothes in all of the apartment complex’s washers. 

He’d just have to wait it out.

An hour later he heard, “Oh my God, have you been waiting long?  Nobody does wash at 2 AM!”

Mike had wanted to meet her for months.

“No problem, I was studying.”

“Me too. Do you mind if I join you? I’ll keep an eye on the drier.”

Fighting butterflies, Mike returned her smile.  “I’d like nothing better.”

***

word count = 100

(ignore the time on the computer in the image, it is wrong ;) )

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

The sound of 70,000 screaming fans was deafening, but I ignored it as I mentally prepared.

All eyes were still on the other end of the stadium.  Soon enough they would be turned my way, as would the TV cameras. 

The figure on the jumbotron, 50 times life sized, smiled at the crowds.  He was the local favorite, so would be hard to beat.

With one last look at the blue sky and a deep breath, I walked to the middle of the field,  adjusting my net and gig as my opponent readied his sword. It’d be a tough fight.

***

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.

It’s our anniversary.  Well, the anniversary of what matters, the day we met.  Those 47 years went by in a flash!

I took a long walk by the waterside, just like that fateful day.  I stopped right where I first saw you.  Did you know that there is still a bench there?  I drew a heart on it, just as I did after I met you.

It is so special to be here today.  You know I’ve only been out of prison for a few weeks.

Funny, since they never found your body they never knew about you, my first.

***

OK, I had to get back to that dark, murderous FF tradition on this one… lol.

***

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.

It had been a while since I had been downtown. I now remember why.

Everyone had a smile.  Phil said, “Lovely weather!”, ignoring the dark grey sky.

Alice, who hadn’t budged from her ledge, waved at Bob.  He was headed to the library that no longer existed.

It was as if everyone and everything was frozen at the exact moment the Others came.  They all went about their pointless existence, marking time as one by one they are taken away.

I went back to my protected hole in the wasteland.

I might have nothing, but at least I am alive.

***

word count = 100

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

The door opened without a sound.

The smell of ancient Egypt and gingerbread spice wafted out.

Jess and Amy entered followed by the other three.

The door slammed behind them.

A middle-aged woman appeared in the blackhole dark hall.

She melted into a corpse, rotted flesh dripping off her skull.

“Get out!”

Amy heard the others running, fumbling with the door.

She whirled around and sprinted. Lauren was just in front of her. Kath, still screaming, was at the door. Stacy was far ahead, running across the lawn.

As Amy reached the door a thought struck her.

Where was Jess?

***

The above is an extract (going from 1000+ words to 100!) from my book, The Old Mill. The ghost was Martha and it was in her mansion, but the story was around an ancient mill building.

***

word count = 100

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

**

I was off the blog for 5 days last week so may have missed your story. I will try to read all this week, but I am still super far behind, so no promises…

The day had been too long and the late evening drive unwanted.  The pink sunset was more of a distraction than an inspiration.

And then I saw it.

Headlights coming towards me but too high off the ground to be a car. 

A large semi? 

No, even too high for that.

And then I noticed the odd glow even higher up.

“Honey, what are you doing?”

I pointed at the glow.

“The reflection of your mobile?”

“The lights…”

“The construction lights on the bridge? Now get back in our lane.”

I knew I shouldn’t have watched Close Encounters last night.

***

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.

“Are you sure this is the place?”

I pointed to Zah’s backwards signature.

Nobody was around, so we jumped the fence and descended the litter-strewn stairs.

The door cracked open.

“Yes?”

“We’re tourists looking for the Hope Diamond.”

“The Smithsonian is in Washington.”

“But Della wore the diamond.”

“In the rough… neighborhood.”

“Mr. Rodger’s sent us.”

“Come in.”

Yes, the code was silly, but both sides needed to be careful.  A slip would be death.

The hall was cluttered like the stairs, but a door opened to a bright room.

I stood and stared at all of the real books.

***

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.