No Mention


Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

No Mention

The estate agent’s glossy brochure is very appealing. Family home, six bedrooms, five bathrooms, annexe suitable for student or older person, large gardens with summer house and various out-buildings.

No mention of the room at the top of the house.  The room with no windows. The room with thick carpets and sound proofed walls. The room with mirrors and wardrobes full of clothes – if those things could be called clothes. No mention of the camera or the screen with five padded chairs placed behind it.

I was fifteen when I was first taken there.

No mention of that either.

Good to be back, it’s been a while. Hope you’ve all been keeping well. Thanks to our Fairy Blogmother, our ever busy, very productive leader Rochelle.

 

 

Weathering Our Storm (2)


Thanks to Georgia Koch for the lovely photo for our prompt this week and to our intrepid Captain Rochelle for navigating our good ship Friday Fictioneers  through all kinds of seas.

(I love this photograph and am so grateful to Rochelle for using it as the re-run this week and I have posted my original story. At present my ship is a bit wobbly, due in part to OH not being well, but we will be back on course very soon).

24 January Georgia Koch

Copyright – Georgia Koch

Genre: Fiction

Word Count:100

Weathering Our Storm

Will you come with me, to Venice?’

An invitation to the place where we began would once have sent my heart soaring. Dare I allow it to do so again?

‘I’ll think about it, if that’s alright?’

Oh, the care we take with one another.   I couldn’t ride out the maelstrom of his affair.  I had to scream it out, to hit back verbally against the waves of pain and sadness that engulfed and threatened to overpower me.

But somehow the storm abated, he chose to stay. How ambitious we are, how determined to keep our precious ship afloat.

‘Yes.’

 

For more stories click here 

 

City Girl


I’m grateful for a re-run this week. After years of searching we finally have a holiday home in France – more about that later. It has take up a lot of our time and I have missed chances to post anything as the internet connection at present is so slow, so very happy to offer up this post from 2012.

Thanks as ever to Rochelle who is busy being an author and getting the third book in her series ready for publication

For more stories – 

 

40again's Blog

(thanks to Piya Singh for the photo)

The auction guide said 75,000; the place was almost a ruin it would take a lot of time and money to make it habitable.

Rose pouted, her Manolos were scratched, her hair a mess. Sam smiled, “could be beautiful” he said.

Rose glowered and thought of what she could buy with 75,000+

It would never be beautiful, she frowned, it was an old ugly mess. She was a city girl.

Sam took her arm and led her inside, showing her his plans for Rose Cottage.

Rose made the front cover of ‘Homes & Gardens.’

Smiling, looking beautiful.

Friday Fictioneers devised by Madison Woods http://madison-woods.com/blog/ 

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Jar of Happiness


This was my original post for this prompt back in 2012.  Can’t quite believe it was so long ago but, as the saying goes ‘time flies when you’re having fun’ and Friday Fictioneers certainly provides that in spades! Delighted to hear that Sandra Crook  a stalwart of FF, is one of ten people short-listed for the Magic Oxygen Literary Prize 2016 and that our FBM Rochelle is busy with her next book and interviews on radio etc., etc., don’t know where she gets her energy from, wish I could borrow some 🙂

Image courtesy of Sean Fallon

The boy stands anxiously in line

Money clutched tightly in his hand

As one by one a box is taken from the pile on the counter

And handed to a mother, sister, grandfather, brother, father

He has none of these.

Nearing the front, he leans forward and tries to see if there is one for him

Then a brightly coloured jar catches his eye

It is full of cars, trains, planes and robots

Tucking it under his arm, he walks out smiling

His guardian waits to take him back to the home

Back to where the old toys are cheering

 

click to read more stories…

 

Grace


Another wet week in Wales, no wonder it’s so green here…… Thanks as always to our fairy blogmother Rochelle and this week’s thanks for the photo prompt, go to the sometimes poetic always interesting CE Ayr

29 January 2016

Copyright CE Ayr

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Grace

Grace shielded her eyes against the glare.  At the end of the track stood the white-washed farmhouse they’d been searching for.  Forty years ago, for reasons that were inescapable, she had turned away from Jack and married Edward.  She had kept their secret all this time, until Edward’s death set her free.

In the lavender fields of France, the powerful scent calmed her nerves.  The long journey was almost over.  Grace saw someone on a tractor in the distance and a moment of panic gripped her, she started to shake.

Amy gently took her hand,’go on gran, it will alright’

 

The First Step


My thanks to our leader Rochelle for being here every week, whether the road is rocky or smooth we follow wherever she leads.

Thanks also to Amy Reese for the photo this week.

15 January

Copyright – Amy Reese

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

The First Step

I smile, accepting their mild applause.  I’ve been out of my comfort zone in front of this class of restless fifth form girls, delivering a talk entitled – ‘Succeeding as a Woman in Business.’ Questions follow. Though I am enthusiastic, questioning their reasoning, hoping to provoke engagement, the poverty of aspiration astounds me.

Struggling to understand their attitude, I walk towards my car.  Tamara, the quiet girl who said she wants to be a hairdresser, stops me.

‘My family’s been out of work for years. How can I be any different?’

I tell her she has just taken the first step.

___________________________________________

I attended a local school, at the invitation of the Head of Business Studies, to speak to fifth firm girls about my story, how I got to where I am. The girls’ lack of aspiration that day still concerns me.

No Free Ride


Happy retirement to our busy leader Rochelle  – more time for writing now… Thanks for the photo this week go to Ted Strutz

Copyright Ted Strutz

Copyright Ted Strutz

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

No Free Ride

In the small, shabby dressing room, Louise tries to pull up the straps of the outfit her mother has made for her debut.

‘Louise, quit messing with your dress.  Hold your head up, smile sweetie.’

‘It’s hard to smile mama, please don’t make me do this.’

‘Baby don’t be so selfish, your sister and I have supported you, now it’s your turn.  There’s no such thing as a free ride in this world sweetie. God’s given you a beautiful face and a great body; get out there and show ‘em what you’ve got.’

Terrified, Louise steps into the spotlight …

 

http://www.lifetimetv.co.uk/biography/biography-gypsy-rose-lee

 

 

Waiting Room


Thanks to Marie Gail Stratford for the unusual photo for the prompt this week and to Rochelle for her unswerving dedication to Friday Fictioneers.

 

Copyright Marie-Gail Stafford

Copyright Marie Gail Stratford

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Waiting Room

Children play quietly with toys in the corner, they look up as a parent or grandparent walks from a consulting room to the x-ray department. I watch them as I wait for you to come back to me.

Not able to sit still, I join a line of worried relatives at the coffee bar. We buy coffee, tea, cake – anything to fill our minds, to give us a moment free from doubt and fear. No-one mentions the word we all dread, but ‘what if’ is whispered and hands are clasped tight.

Then suddenly, you’re walking towards me.

And you’re smiling.

A Bridge Trip


Thanks as always to Rochelle for her sterling work and thanks to The Reclining Gentleman for the photo this week.

Copyright The Reclining Gentlemen

                                             Copyright The Reclining Gentlemen

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

A Bridge Trip

Jerry limped into the bar on North Street and hauled himself onto a stool.

‘You got money this time Jerry?’

‘Not  ‘xactly.’

‘You know the rules, NO credit.’

Lowering his voice Jerry leant in, ‘Ben, listen, there’s a hole in the pavement on Murray Bridge. No sign. Nothing. I sorta tripped and hurt myself. A guy helped me and said I’ll get comperation, that’s cash aint it?’’

He wiped a grubby hand across his mouth, watching Ben pour a beer for a paying customer.

Ben laughed, then pushed a beer towards him, ‘Jerry, you’re unbelievable. Get a job, it’s safer.’

 

 

 

Prussia Cove


Thank you to Rochelle, the hard-working captain of the good ship Friday Fictioneers and thanks also to Jen Pendergast for the lovely photo this week, I’ve kept the connection with boats…

copyright Jen Pendergast

                                             copyright Jen Pendergast

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

Prussia Cove

‘Come away from the window Alice.’

‘Mother, I heard their horses.’

‘You know it’s not safe, come away.’

Alice climbed back into her bed. She drifted back to sleep cuddling Charlotte, her new rag doll.  As she slept, her mother lit the torches in the network of tunnels below their house, before running out to help her husband and the other men from the village. Rolls of silk, packets of tobacco, barrels of brandy were swiftly hidden from sight.

‘The King of Prussia’s’ men had relieved another wreck of its cargo, before the customs men came galloping along the beach.

 

The  house above Prussia Cove

Copyright Halsgrove Publishing

Copyright Halsgrove Publishing

For more information on the self-styled King of Prussia and his family 

… and an extract from  ‘A Smuggler’s Song’ by Rudyard Kipling

‘IF you wake at midnight, and hear a horse’s feet,

Don’t go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street,

Them that ask no questions isn’t told a lie.

Watch the wall my darling while the Gentlemen go by.’