Posts Tagged ‘FridayFictioneers’

PHOTO PROMPT -© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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/2015/10/07/2-october-2015/

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

Come, enjoy a Snickers.

Here’s my contribution:

Super 8

The motel was called Super 8. Charlotte thought how apropos that name as she surveilled the vehicles in the lot below.

Eight.

They were all driverless, quiet, yet she couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched. They had been trapped here a week, no cell service, no wi-fi, a single Snickers remaining.

As Charlotte walked to 306 to check on Billy the Suburban began to purr, gravel crunched softly as the wheels tracked.

Would help come?

Billy and his bag were gone. From below, Charlotte heard crunching again as Billy broke across the lot.

The vehicles roared to life.

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

FFF PROMPT frost-on-a-stump-sandra-crook

 

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/2015/03/11/13-march-2015/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. I tried for about 3 minutes to restrain myself to 100 words this week. Some stories resist control. Anyway, hope you enjoy. And do come in from the cold.

Here’s my contribution:

Eight Years Old

I first noticed my shine when I was just a wee little girl. I had this stuffed bunny, Isabella, Izzy for short, and I’d drag her ‘round with me wherever I’d go. Just the two of us, an inseparable pair. Bobby, my older brother, he’s long gone now, but Bobby didn’t much care for my liking of Izzy. So, on a hot August afternoon, when Ma was at the grocery and Pa was off working or fornicating with Ms. Mabel, or maybe just getting drunk, I don’t much recall that part, but I do remember Bobby had made off with Izzy and ran away faster than I could out into the deep part of the yard. I watched as, in one motion, Bobby lopped off Izzy’s head with ma’s sewing shears and tossed her, body and head, off into the woods that lined the property. I can still see through the eyes of a five-year-old as Izzy’s cotton guts stretched and became tangled on some branches. I shrieked. Bobby, he laughed and laughed. That’s when I felt the cold chill come over me. Well, it was more like it emanated ‘from’ me. Things started to frost over and wilt as it spread like spilt milk. I cried and shuddered and choked on tears and snot and the cold spread faster and faster. Poor Bobby. Poor, poor Bobby.

jKb

FFF Prompt on-on-off

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/2015/01/28/23-january-2015/

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

Here’s my contribution:

Blind-Date

“It’s painted black.”

“Yes, my play room.” Justine pressed all hundred-nine pounds against him and bit into his flesh. “You came here with a purpose, so let’s play.”

Benson exhaled both pain and pleasure; he grasped deeply into her dark curls then yanked. “That’s right, bitch.” He kissed her hard. She responded with tongue flicks before biting his lip. She shoved him back into a bolted down wooden chair.

He smiled, murderously.

Using Velcro straps she secured his wrists and ankles, then secured a blindfold. The final piece plugged directly into a rigged outlet and snugged over his head.

jKb

FFF Prompt Salt Flats  c2a9tales_from_the_motherland

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:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/09/17/19-september-2014/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, listen and realize, you’re not the only one.

Here’s my contribution:

Take The Wheel

Johnathan squeezed his eyes closed and stomped the accelerator to the floor.

Sometimes the path was full of love and hugs and everyone wanted your attention and sometimes the love was shards of glass and the hugs left you gasping for your last breath and sometimes you just wanted to be alone, to make the hurt stop, at all cost, God just make it stop.

His fingers balanced the wheel, then one by one they slid. Johnathan awaited Him to take the wheel.

The engine screamed as the cylinders reached red. The radio shrieked.

The windshield exploded.

Johnathan was released.

jKb

FFF Prompt grapevine2bgoo1

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:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/08/27/29-august-2014/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, let me ask you. How’s your bones?

This bit is a teaser for something I’ve been working on.

Here’s my contribution:

Seekanauk

His jaw ached and two ribs were certainly cracked. Bradley swung his feet onto the wide-planked pine and sat at the bed edge. All for a girl, he thought feeling his nose. The pain was worse in his sinuses but he couldn’t recall the impacts, just voices, a sucker-punch from the side, and then cold salt-flat mud. He’d been thrown from the dock and left for dead but the rising tide had roused him. And now, as he looked upon his battered reflection there was a tickle, and he saw, what was that, a crab leg wriggling into his nostril?

jKb

FFF Prompt  parked

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:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/08/20/22-august-2014/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, tell us your hopes and dreams.

Here’s my contribution:

Target Practice

Dale’s head rumbled like the five pin on the last frame when everything was on the line. And everything was on the line. Bank took the house and Cherri ran off with the kids and the dog while he was swapping oil filters at the shop. He knew she’d be gone, too. She’d become quiet and cold and hell if she hadn’t voted for this guy with his hope and change. Dale squinted off the shards of light coming through the windshield of his new living arrangement and eyed a bumper sticker. Just politics he thought and squeezed the trigger.

jKb

FFF Prompt  antique-desk

I’ve been MIA and have no good excuse. I actually do but it’s a secret. Enough of that, let’s just get on with it, shall we?

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:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/08/13/15-august-2014/

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

Here’s my contribution:

Till Death Do Us Part

Wick gathered the necessary: charred bones, tar, pitch, water. Parts when combined produced ink.

There were also variations to the formula, modifications which were designed to achieve desired results. For instance he could substitute water with tears to produce sorrow, or semen for love, or blood for, well, blood.

Of all these Wick had learned.

To complete this enchantment and thus set the snare Wick need only breathe the words of his desire across the drying ink, then deliver his impregnated letter.

He composed his confession of love, and as he did, he whispered of release. And of sweet death.

jKb