FF| How The West Was Built

Hey guys, I went a smidge over the 100-word limit but I couldn’t help myself. My writing has faltered and I’m trying to get myself back in the game. Comments are welcome on this piece! Just remember you shouldn’t type anything into a comment box that you wouldn’t say to someone’s face. Also, visit the other Friday Fictioneer Writers. They’re all pretty amazing.
cut up tree,hewn tree,stump,freshly cut wood,wood sawed,

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

   Nineteen and already a widow. With no parents to guide her, she did her best for her siblings. The men would spend the first months building houses, barns, and the general store. The church could wait.
  It would get built because the women would insist on it. Men liked to take credit for building these United States, but it was women running the general stores, the inns, and even the brothels. The west was not a bunch of cowboys building towns inhabited by gunslingers.
  The neighbors asked Jael not to pull out, to not take the children into the wilderness. But she could see civilization coming over the prairie like calmness comes over a broke colt.
Advertisements

FF | Warped

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo prompt posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. It is not a closed group; you can join in! Click on Rochelle’s name and you’ll find the details there.

We are allowed to use the photo (taken by another FriFic writer) in our post and encouraged to leave each other comments. I write my story before I read any of the other writers’ creations. This week’s short story is 99-words long.

heart shaped hole,heart in food,

PHOTO PROMPT © Kelvin M. Knight

  Warped

It wasn’t quite a heart. It was warped. And so was their love.

Suzanne stepped away from the counter. She needed no more signs; no more pleading calls from her sister, no more tight smiles from her boss, no more sighs from her friend Janice. Suzanne didn’t mean to do it quietly but she did. She left dinner undone, put on her jean jacket, picked up her brown leather purse and stepped out the back door. The door didn’t squeak as it usually did. It was as if even the house knew it was time for her to leave.

FF | Relocated

Hey everyone, I managed to get inspired last night and I wrote some new poetry. You can check out my short poems on Twitter by going through the widget. This is the first time that I’ve been able to sit down and write a 100-word story for Friday Fictioneers in a while. Let me know what you think! I was not feeling well this weekend (or today) but somehow felt like writing.

desert path,plateau,rise,sunset in the desert,

PHOTO PROMPT © Danny Bowman

Relocation

As the mishmash of beings deplaned, they complained about being relocated to a desert planet. Ashley squinted and said nothing. She thought she saw flowering cacti in front of her. She cupped her long green fingers over her black eyes to see better. A blue female bemoaned her luck, “Just because I can tolerate the heat doesn’t mean I like it!”
Ashley started walking toward the plateau. The top of it would make a fine home. She was called Ashley because by the time she had been born her planet was nothing but ash. But from the ashes, she would rise.

FF | Plotting

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. We are allowed to use the photo in our post and encouraged to leave each other comments. I write my story before I read any of the other writers’ creations, although I do often read Rochelle’s post before I write mine since it is right under the photo of the week. This week’s story is 102-words long.

january-snowfall-nighttime

PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

  Plotting

Malorie watched the snow fall in despair. If she ran away tonight it would be easy to follow her. She would leave her duffel bag hidden and try again in a few days.

Her plan was to live at the homeless shelter on 40th street until she finished school. Snooty Gloria would never dare to step foot inside that place. Dumb Todd told her he would search all of the buses if she ever ran away, so Malorie decided not to leave the city, but to hide in plain sight. Her aunt and uncle could have the money, but not her.

FF | Return to the Sea

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo prompt posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. We are allowed to use the photo (taken by another writer) in our post and encouraged to leave each other comments. I write my story before I read any of the other writers’ creations. This week’s story is 100-words exactly.

 

wooden chair in the water

Photo Prompt by Ted Strutz

  Return to the Sea

 

Grandma might be crazy, but if she wanted to sit with her feet in the water, she would. She had been inconsolable since Grandpa Eric died. Her red hair had turned white.

Alayna supported her Grandma until they got to the chair. Alayna thought she would sit in the ocean for a few minutes and then they would go back. But instead, Grandma sat there until the tide came in.

Alayna urged, “Grandma, it’s getting deep. Let’s head back.”

“Yes. I’m heading back.”

Grandma Ariel’s legs became a tail. Then she rolled out of the chair, and she swam off.

FF | Avoiding Intergalactic Incidences

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo prompt posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. It is not a closed group; you can join in! We are allowed to use the photo (taken by another writer) in our post and are encouraged to leave each other comments. I write my story before I read any of the other writers’ creations. This week’s story is 100-words long.

Several people use the hashtag #FridayFictioneers when they tweet a link to one of their Friday Fictioneer stories on Twitter. You should too!

friday fictioneers photo prompt,writing prompt,

PHOTO PROMPT © Al Forbes

  Avoiding Intergalactic Incidences.

“What were you thinking? What were you doing?” asked the bewildered police officer.

Serge was unsure of how to answer. How do you tell a cop that you saw a flying saucer and not get arrested for drunkenness or sent off to the loony bin?

“I’m sorry, officer.”

“You’re sorry? You’d better be sorry! What if you’d hit another car?”

Serge rubbed his face with his hand. What if he had hit that flying thing? That might have caused an intergalactic incident.

“I’m sorry sir, I’ll try to pay more attention from now on.” Next time he’d get a picture.

FF | Tickets to Anguish

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo prompt posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. It is not a closed group; you can join in! We are allowed to use the photo (taken by another writer) in our post and encouraged to leave each other comments. I write my story before I read any of the other writers’ creations. This week’s story is 99-words long.

Also, I have been using the hashtag #FridayFictioneers when I tweet a link to one of my Friday Fictioneer stories on Twitter. There are others using that hashtag too. If you have Twitter you should do the same on Fridays, maybe we could get the hashtag trending.

rain,glowing display,lights,sidewalk in the rain,rain in the city,

PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

 

  Tickets to Anguish

Joey stood outside, rain pouring down his back. What a fool he had been. He had trusted her to stay faithful once they were married.

“Ya gotta put a ring on it!” she had teased. “In today’s world, you can’t expect me to ignore other guys until you prove that you only want me.”

So Joey worked double shifts and saved to buy a ring. After a quick wedding he put her name on everything he owned.

Six months later she bought movie tickets and forgot to tell him. When he arrived she was walking inside with another man.

FF | The Last Resort

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. It is not a closed group, you can join in! We are allowed to use the photo in our post and encouraged to leave each other comments. I write my story before I read any of the other writers’ creations, although I do often read Rochelle’s post before I write mine since it is right under the photo of the week. This week’s story is 108 words. I almost left it at 119, but decided to at least try to cut it down.

medley of things,a collection,

PHOTO PROMPT © Claire Fuller

The Last Resort

Suzette stood in front of the witch’s shelf. The witch was stirring a soup pot. She had told Suzette to pick an item that tugged at her heart. When Suzette dropped it into the pot, a spell would cast over Richard and he would love her forever.

There were many interesting things but the coral caught Suzette’s eye. She turned to the Witch, who was not much older than she. The witch nodded and Suzette dropped the coral in.

“Dat boy is mine.” snarled the witch.

Suddenly Suzette was floating in the water. She swished her fins in frustration. Now she would never get a kiss from Richard.

FF | Dark Nights

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. This week the photo is hers! Drop by her blog to give her some props. We are allowed to use the photo in our post and encouraged to leave each other comments. I write my story before I read any of the other writers’ creations, although I do often read Rochelle’s post before I write mine since it is right under the photo of the week. My story is exactly 100 words long this week.

hurrican lamps,lit lamps,glass lamps,oil lamps,when the electricity goes out,

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Dark Nights

The lantern was lit. Jill lingered looking at the flame, remembering the first time she had lit a lantern. Bill had been so useless he couldn’t strike a match but Jill was blinded by love. She was 18, just out of the house, and had a man who told her she was beautiful.

Two months into her pregnancy when morning sickness hit and Bill wouldn’t work to support her, the blinders came off with his ring. Luckily the man down the street had his same brown eyes, brown hair, and gullibility. He had no idea that the child wasn’t his.

FF | Realization in the Basement

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. We are allowed to use the photo in our post and encouraged to leave each other comments. I always appreciate anyone who takes the time to leave me a comment. I write my story before I read any of the other writers’ creations. I know that I haven’t posted much lately, but I am trying to get back into the swing of things. More likes encourage me to post! This story is 105 words long.

unfinished room,wheat grinders,grain grinders,basement,

PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

  Realization in the Basement

Staci stared at the half finished basement realizing what she had done.
When they were 18, she had an abortion.
“We can’t travel the world with a baby.”

She had taken a job at a fast food place a year later.
“Dad needs my help. We’ll leave for Europe when the business is doing better.”

She worked while he vacationed.
“It’s just Canada; it’s just a fishing trip. We’ll save money and start traveling next Fall.”

Then this.
“We’ll build a house now, so we have one to come back to.”

She had waited patiently for seven years and had not even left the state.

FF Story | The Kind Baker

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. We are allowed to use the photo in our post and encouraged to leave each other comments. I always appreciate anyone who takes the time to leave a comment on any of my posts. I write my story before I read any of the other writers’ creations. This week’s story started out at 134 words and I shrunk it to 100 words.

river out a window,antiques,rushing water,riverbank,

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The Kind Baker

“Make sure to stand far enough back that no blood splatters on you.”

John had Billy opened the window. It was stuffy inside of the office.

“I’m not an idiot John, I’ve shot people before.”

“I want that bakery. It has a prime location.”

“The baker gets his flour on Tuesday nights. I will get it done then.”

The little boy tiptoed under the window. He headed uphill toward the Police Station. He knew who the Chief was because he always made him move his sleeping spot. He knew the baker because he always gave the street kid free bread.

FF Story Stolen Jewel

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers that write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. We are allowed to use the photo in our post and encouraged to leave each other comments. I always appreciate anyone who takes the time to leave a comment on any of my posts.

jet,airplane,air travel,

PHOTO PROMPT © Melanie Greenwood

 

  Stolen Jewel

He held one hand out to her. The other hand held the heavy briefcase.

“Come on, Alexis. You know that you don’t belong here.”

She stood still looking at his hand.

This wasn’t a small town, but it wasn’t big. There were no operas, no ballets. But she was safe here, near her family. If she got on the plane they’d be leaving the country. She might have to learn another language.

Her mother once laughed at her, telling Alexis she barely spoke English and should master it before learning another.

Alexis grabbed his hand and walked onto the plane.