The Games Children Play

An early prompt this week, thought I was still caught up in jet-lag-holiday-mode.

Once again, Queen Rochelle gathers her workers about her with a new prompt, this week the photograph is courtesy of John Nixon. I love the wizened looking trees and twisted roots, and guess the photo will provide the usual brilliantly inventive stories from the other Friday Fictioneers. You can read mine below the photograph.

Copyright John Nixon

Copyright John Nixon

 Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

The Games Children Play

‘You abducted him, admit it’


‘You say you know where he is’

‘Sort of’

‘So you took him?’

The world slows, the mist comes.  I see a blindfolded child standing in front of a tree; five older boys are running away.

‘I can see him, in a wood’

‘You can see him in a wood, what sort of crap is that?’

‘I came here to help. I see things. I didn’t take him, but I can see him’

‘You see things?  Then I guess you know what’s coming! Lock him up Ben’

I see the bough break.

And fall.


You can read more stories here 


The Island

Hello from sunny Wales!  It’s been a long time since I could say that.  Seems the rains have eased, fingers crossed.

Another Wednesday, time for another Friday Fictioneers story.  Thanks as usual to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields who is in sci-fi mode this week and also to Danny Bowman, for providing the photo prompt.

Copyright - Danny Bowman

Copyright – Danny Bowman

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

The Island

The island has been in my family for generations.  It’s home to seabirds and seals, virtually uninhabited most of the year. The crossing can be quite dangerous; I was intrigued by his suggestion that we take the boat across.

‘You OK?’

‘Not really, be glad to land’

‘You didn’t ask why’

‘Thought you’d tell me once we got there’

‘You think you’re going to get there?’


‘Where did you put the papers from Islandhopper?’

‘That was years ago. I’m still not signing’

He made a grab for me as the boat rolled.

The ocean holds lots of secrets

For more FF stories click Mr Froggy 

Happy Birthday Dad

Thanks as ever to Rochelle for guiding us towards another challenge and to Adam for his great photo this week.

Today would have been my father’s 90th birthday.  Due to the date, he has been in and out of my mind all day, when I saw the prompt this week, I knew I had to write about him and so I crave your indulgence.

Copyright - Adam Ickes

Copyright – Adam Ickes

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

Happy Birthday Dad

 Some weekends he would take off on his motorbike, heading for the Lake District and the hills he had roamed since boyhood. He knew the places untouched by tourism, and would lose himself in the majestic beauty of the scenery; whatever worries he took with him, vanished into the clean, fresh, air.

After the accident, his motorbike was sold. He was 58 and my mother judged him too old to be in charge of such a powerful machine.

He sulked.

He died at 67; we scattered his ashes into the wind on Scafell Pike.

I’m sure I heard him laughing.


I wrote more about my father here, I still miss him.

One Child – for Right2Write Prompt 9 Stop Terrorism

One Child – for Right2Write Prompt 9 Stop Terrorism
Amazing piece, we all should read this


The death of one child
is the death of the world

Sand arising as mother earth
shakes off her despair
and hungers for an artist’s vision there

Reptile brain awakens
flooding the system
with fear and alarm

The eye watching over us
blinking so slowly
means us some harm

The death of one child
is the death of us all

The universe turns
slow and elliptical
creating and recreating itself through pain

Grasping for a victory
or a vengeance creates
blood on blood

Devastation fields
Streets of fallen limbs
Nothing is good

The death of one child
is the death of the world

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

For Right2Write prompt 9 at

Checkout the other prompt entries and join in! Spread the word on a prompt on such a vital topic to us all!

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A Story of Love

On the merry-go-round of the Friday Fictioneers, we spin our stories, tell our tales;  climb to the heights or sink to the depths of the human condition. The photo to challenge us this week, comes courtesy of David Stewart, you can climb his Green Walled Tower to read more from him, and you can read more from Rochelle, who leads the Fictioneers up and down and round and round each week.

rescuers D Stewart

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

A Story of Love

I believed your promises of love and forever

I left my friends and family behind

They didn’t see what I saw

Couldn’t bask in the glow of the love you gave me.

I walked beside you

Your confidence soared

You matured

Saw a different world

A world of opportunity

 Endless possibilities

For an unencumbered man.


 Heartbroken desolate abandoned

Unable to dull the pain

I returned to my safe haven

Loving arms held me tight

Unquestioning support and solace

Nurtured the Me you had destroyed

Watched the smile I’d lost return

Saw me climb back to my place in the sun.

Standing Still

Thanks this week go to Sarah Ann Hall for her photograph entitled “Aqueduct” and to the wordsmith Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for continuing the Fabulous Friday Fictioneers.


Genre: Romantic fiction

Word Count: 100

Standing Still

…In the distance, the spectacular Pont du Gard, a reminder of the Romans’ talent for engineering, built centuries ago to carry water from the springs at Uzes to the Roman garrison in Nimes.

I switch off my voice recorder. It’s early and hot, what exactly am I doing here? I should have ignored Sally’s advice to get back to work; she was wrong, I’m not enjoying it!

I enjoyed having a husband. Now I feel directionless, insular, empty, separate.

The air changes, becomes still. I can sense Adam is beside me.

I relax and breathe the sweet fragrance of life.