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.

Friday Fictioneers | Ice

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 100-words exactly.

flower pot in window sill,daisy,white flower,winter,

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

  Ice

“These are perfect conditions to rob a store in.”

“In which to rob a store.” said Conner.

“In which to rob a store, run from the cops, and never get caught.” Ashley rolled his eyes as he replied to his long-time friend Conner.

“What makes you think that we’ll get away while the cops are sliding around on the ground?”

“Because I have those attachments for your boots that people use when they hike mountains! We’ll run down the alley, through the abandoned building and then circle back here.”

“You always were the thinker.” Conner reached for his boots.

 

 

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 | Tinder Date

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 100-words exactly.

Some of us have been using the hashtag #FridayFictioneers when we tweet a link to one of our Friday Fictioneer stories on Twitter. You should too!

Also, it’s International Blog Delurking Week! So you should leave a comment. Read about the holiday here.

industrial equipment

  Tinder Date

I sat up. A creaking had awoken me. Where was I? The last thing I remember was eating dinner with a very weird guy. I think I’ve been drugged.

What was his name, Joel?

His Tinder profile said he was a lab tech. He had definitely spent too many days in the lab.

The wheel in the middle of the room was turning, and suddenly I realized it was pulling a rope that was tied around my feet. Maniacal laughter abruptly rang out.

Is this why the missing girls were never found? Because their bodies were crushed by this wheel?

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 | A Spy’s Lunch

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 116-words long. I tried to cut it down, but I was afraid it wouldn’t make sense, or pull you in, if I cut anymore.

blue neon lights,60s diner,blue lights,

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

  A Spy’s Lunch

Really? Thought Jay. Patriot’s Diner.

When the blonde waitress seated him, he asked for an Orange Crush and a plain hamburger.

The order was a signal to the manager that he was a spy and needed this month’s recording. The manager always put the USB in the bun.

Jay wondered if the waitress knew. He didn’t smile when accepted his food. He wanted to seem mysterious.

“Thanks hon’.” He said in a deep voice.

The waitress smiled and went on her way. Jay managed to eat the dry hamburger and get the USB in his pocket.

Later in the car, as he convulsed from the poison, he decided the waitress probably knew he was a spy.

 

FF | The Wedding Present

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 lovely photo is hers. You can join in by adding a link to your story to the blue frog link-up on Rochelle’s post for the week. We are allowed to use the photo in our post and encouraged to leave each other nice 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 short story is 109 words long.

round pen,paint horse,snowing,winter,farm life,

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

  The Wedding Present

He asked why she was sitting at the window. Most women, cheeks puffy from having a tooth pulled, wouldn’t. Jael pointed out the dun at the sale pen. She wondered who would buy him. Her husband did not comment but instead asked if she felt up to eating. When she replied no, he quietly ate while she sat glancing toward the window. He told her to lay down while he went on his afternoon stroll. Much to her surprise when he returned, it was with the dun. They had been married for a year and he was learning at 43 how to be a loving husband.

FF | Third Wheel

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 99 words long.

campsite,pop up tent,third wheel,camping

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

Third Wheel

It was easy to pretend that they were just camping and could return to regular life as soon as they drove back into town. It was easy to forget WWIII.

“I think your mind must have quiet, every week, to be able to process things.”

Sally had taken on a philosophical bent this last month. Joe had learned to ride out her phases. He grunted as he stirred the pot of beans over the fire.

“I really don’t mind that you accidently killed the last friend we made because he talked a lot and I really need my quiet.”

 

 

FF | Songs

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The photos are taken by other Friday Fictioneers. You can join in by adding a link to your story to the blue frog link-up on Rochelle’s page. We are allowed to use the photo in our post and encouraged to leave each other nice 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 short story is

As always, Thank You for reading.

violin,strings,stinged insturment,

PHOTO PROMPT © Björn Rudberg

 

Songs

Their life together was like a symphony. Maybe there was a wrong note from a finger that slipped once, but the music was so beautiful that no one noticed. They were the couple that everyone aspired to. For their 10th Anniversary, Joe learned to play the violin and composed a song just for Julie. For their 50th Anniversary, their children flew them to Hawaii. The paper featured their picture on their 75th Anniversary. Harvey read about their happy lives while laying in his cell. He wondered what the story would have been had he proposed at Prom instead of Joe.

 

 

 

FF | Good Memories

Wow, I wrote this one with very little editing and never did go over the 100-word count. How has your writing gone this week?

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The photos are taken by other Friday Fictioneers. You can join in by adding a link to your story to the blue frog link-up on Rochelle’s page. We are allowed to use the photo in our post and encouraged to leave each other nice 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 short story is 100-words long.

pointy roofs,tile roof,tile shingles,

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Good Memories

Glory stopped at the top of the hill, turning to look at her village one last time. She could still see Mr. Thompson’s roof. Looking at it always made her happy and gave her hope.

She heard a door slam somewhere and it made her jump. She turned and fled down the hill. The city near the coastline had a finishing school for girls and plenty of restaurants where she could earn a living.

She would not be forced into the neighbor’s bedroom anymore. Her own mother hadn’t believed her, so she would go where no one could hurt her.

FF | Bridge Over Troubled Waters

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The photos are taken by other Friday Fictioneers. It is not a closed group, you can join in by adding your link to the blue frog linkup. 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 101 words. I thought the bridge looked creepy but I didn’t want to write a scary story, so I went with an apocalyptic story instead. Leave me your thoughts on my story below.

covered bridge,graffitti on bridge,

PHOTO PROMPT © Peter Abbey

Bridge Over Troubled Waters
 
Skylar didn’t like heights. Captain Wheeler tried to reassure her by telling her after they crossed this bridge there would be cabins up ahead. They had been walking for weeks, looking for a hideout from the aliens, and might have finally found one.
 
As a teenager, she was expected to keep up and not whine. Skylar decided to be thankful that the boards on the bridge blocked her view of the raging river below.
 
The little band of rebel humans crossed the bridge, with tall Wheeler leading the way. Getting to stare at his behind was another reason to be thankful.