FFF Prompt bay-windows

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/09/02/4-september-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction.

Come, share some exhilaration.

Here’s my contribution:

Leap Of Faith

She taunted, “You’re too afraid. You can’t possibly love me.”

“Why don’t you believe me?” Philip called down from the third floor window. “Please don’t leave me.”

“You lack faith. And, sadly, it’s disturbing.”

She turned to walk away, but slowly. She was waiting.

“I can prove it.”

“You’ve had your opportunities, Philip, and you’ve squandered them.”

“Name it. I’ll do anything.” Bingo.

“Anything? Like wrestle an alligator?”

Philip was nodding emphatically, leaning way out, his face twisted in agony. “Yes.”

“Like eat dog shit?”

“Anything.”

He couldn’t resist. Her control overwhelmed him.

“Show me.

“Here boy.

“Go on.

“NOW!”

jKb

FFF Prompt demolition-4

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/08/19/21-august-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction.

Come, celebrate with the birthday boy.

Here’s my contribution:

The Artist’s Method

The crimson plume had nearly scorched off Oscar’s face. He rubbed thumb and forefinger across his brow and giggled.

I’ve been a naughty boy!

He peeked above the parapet as sirens warbled. Oscar was so excited he thought he might pee himself, so he twisted it closed. And giggled again. He thought about the mother screaming when she found her bound daughter. Oscar had smashed her head with of all things a frying pan, blew out the pilot and turned on the burners, then quickly lit a birthday candle on the far end of the apartment before making his wish.

jKb

FFF Prompt moths

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/08/12/14-august-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction.

Come, enjoy another oldie. These bring back fond memories.

Here’s my contribution:

Dust

The facility far beneath the vacant cinder-block structure had been closed two years, a defunct burger front above. This reticent spicule of urban sprawl on the edge of Harrisonburg forever unsuspecting. Experiments, cries for mercy, now ghostly whispers wafting up twelve stories of cement throat, echoing into deserted prep zones once deploying manipulated strains of polyunsaturated fat. Something new flitted from the depths; like burnt smolders of paper, seething, came the vectors. Such lovely moths. Beautiful metamorphosis married biochemistry. Paralytic liquid secreted as wings unfurled, dried to dust, dispersed during gyroscopic flight.

Nearby, recess bells marked the beginning.

jKb

FFF Prompt moon-and-sky1

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/08/05/7-august-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction.

Come, let your body rest before you begin your next fantastic journey.

This, from May 2012.

Here’s my contribution:

I Pray You Sing (a letter from Rachel)

Dearest Mother,

I’m sorry. I haven’t always been easiest or prettiest and certainly I’ve let you down. Please understand, I’ve been angry. Children can be. So I ran.

Laying here, grasses crushed beneath, I wonder, can I still feel? Soothing sun. Coaxing breeze. Branches sway. Naked. As I am. Unblinking, imagining our world whole, yet, color fades, Mother, shudder, my heart stops.

Now, I traverse this awakening of permanent sleep, my understanding greater, my love for you ever deeper.

Left me here. Alone.

Cry for me not, Mother. I pray you sing, for I am coming Home.

Ever yours,

Rachel

jKb

FFF Prompt in-the-light

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/07/29/31-july-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction.

Come, sure the first sip might be nasty, but give it a try.

I’ve been out of the loop, my friends. Life has been pitching some wicked sliders. Be that as it may…

Here’s my contribution:

He Called Himself Evan Williams

Humans are pack animals after all; they need companionship to survive, or risk insanity. For Tripp Bennet the habit started as a way to obtain company while travelling for work. He found it quite easy. Any night in every town there’s always a meeting. Tripp would arrive after things had started, noticeably fidget while fingering his white coin, then leave before the close. Inevitably, someone would follow. Tripp didn’t care who, he was equal opportunity. ‘What’s your name’ and ‘how long you been sober’ would lead to more, even if the mark resisted.

Always more.

Tripp suffered a mighty thirst.

jKb

pleisiosaur_

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/05/06/8-may-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, relax in the Tranquil Garden.

Here’s my contribution:

The Tranquil Garden

“I wish you were dead.”

The words hung in the air like the cigarette smoke Tad would belch out, stretching wider with each passing second. Mary choked on her tears.

I’m strong, damnit. Why do I get weak around him?

“Then do something about it. Come on, be a man for once in your life.” Tad clenched his fist.

“Go ahead, do it! Hit me!”

He relaxed his hand. “You’re not worth it.”

“Coward.” She shoved him as hard as she could. “Fucking coward! Hit me!” She shoved him again, spilling his beer.

In the end she got her wish.

jKb

FRIDAYFictoneerPrompt-FAUCET

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/05/06/8-may-2015/

This prompt was from our MadisonWoods days. How far has this group come, anyway?

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, make a deal.

Here’s my contribution:

The Salesman

“It’s finished.”

“Will it work?”

“Just like I explained. After the pot’s done bubbling just drain it into this here metal bucket, then start the fire.”

“And the hose for the colder.”

“It’s called the ‘chiller’.”

“And what comes out will be pure shine?”

“Virgin pure.”

“Can’t thank you enough.”

“Sure you can.”

“How much do I owe ya?”

“I don’t want your money. I’ve got money.”

“Then what?”

“Payment due in full. Upon delivery.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Your daughter. Or, your wife. You choose.”

jKb

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/04/08/10-april-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, see what lurks beyond the secret door.

Here’s my contribution:

Beyond The Secret Door

“When Marshal’s guys rolled the car back so the electrician could access the relay station underneath, some stones from the back wall collapsed in.”

Sheriff Shoemacher swung his finger like he was stealing a taste of cake batter. “Not that way.” The deputy climbed down into the 5-foot square hole which housed the circuitry. He directed his flashlight beam into a dark recess which traveled beneath the old Red Caboose Museum and platform on which the Sheriff was standing. “That way.”

Shoemacher circled to the far side of the hole. In the shadowy depths of the recess was a door.

jKb

FFF Prompt david-stewart

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/03/25/27-march-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. This fellow rolled in to town when the Carnival of Screams appeared. Come, witness The Smith and all that he can be.

Here’s my contribution:

The Smith Comes

Allen rests his bones upon the Post Office stoop, metal tool box upon his thighs, scraggy grays tied back into something that resembles a wet rat. He wriggles his nose and samples the crowd. He awaits Mrs. Right, or Mr.–Allen’s an open-minded opportunist. With feminine, surgically nimble, and overly ring-adorned phalanges he twirls errant whiskers. His beady eyes and highly attuned nose identifies her from within the docile masses. Mrs. Right is distracted on her phone, she’s arguing, her left fist is clenched yet it sparkles, dazzles. Allen slides open a metal draw retrieving his most precious instrument.

jKb

FFF Prompt rachel-bjerke

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/03/18/20-march-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction.

I wonder if they ever looked in the fountain.

Come, tell me if you can hear it too.

Here’s my contribution:

Listen

“It happened in a wooded area very near here,” Trish continued her tale, treading deeper into the woodland, a string of small children ambling in her wake.

“What happened, Ms. Trish?”

“The story goes that seven year-old Tessa was drawn into the woods by a life-sized raggedy doll. Her brother Jeremy saw it too, peeking around trees, smiling at her with stitched mouth and button eyes. It was calling to her and waving to follow.”

“Then what?”

“She went off down a trail like this one. Jeremy said he could hear talking just ahead.”

“What was that?”

“Shhhh.”

“Listen.”

Come!

jKb