Sort Out Your Life

April 17, 2024April 18, 2024 / Dee / 9 Comments

The wardrobe door swung open to display a rack of tightly packed clothes. Bags, haphazardly stowed on the top shelf, shoes jammed on the shelf below the clothes. I am untidy, I admit it.

My husband always said I needed too much of everything.

Listening to the tv programme, ‘Sort Our Your Life’, I stuffed things into a large bin bag. Then found my wedding dress, off its’ hanger, crumpled in a heap at the back. As I held it I remembered that day, all my hopes and dreams. Long before the lies, hurt and final betrayal.

I stuffed it into the bag.

Many thanks to Rochelle for her continued leadership of this great group of Friday

Dream Flight

January 6, 2016 / Dee / 35 Comments

Happy New Year! I hope you all enjoyed the holidays, however you celebrated them. It’s good to be back at Friday Fictioneers Central. Huge thanks to Rochelle for finding time to organise this group in between writing novels, visiting family or icing the odd cake, and my thanks to all who contribute each week making this a fantastic group to be a part of.

Genre: Fiction

Word count: 100

Dream Flight

‘Would you really buy one, if you won the Lottery?’

‘Well it’s on my list. I’d love one. Just think of the freedom, taking off whenever you wanted…’

‘What else is on your list?’

‘A long stay at a health farm, I fancy the one in Arizona where all the celebs go to get their fat sucked out.’

They both laughed as Mel placed the magazine back on the bedside cabinet. She sat on the bed, reaching for her best friend’s hand. There would be no flight or health farm visit; they both knew it, but it helped to dream.

Starting Over

January 8, 2015 / Dee / 37 Comments

I love Chicago! Just thought I would tell you. We went there years ago and spent a week in the city before travelling on to Utah – don’t ask… Huge thanks to Rochelle for continuing to host Friday Fictioneers and supporting everyone who takes part.

Finally, my very best wishes to you all for a healthy and prosperous 2015

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Starting Over

The bag was heavy but Molly dragged it to the station. Her face turned towards the sun, its warmth flowed through her body, easing the pain. Cosmic pain relief, she laughed out loud at the simplicity of it.

On the train she ripped up the left-luggage receipt and gently took out the torn and crumpled letter. It had been hidden, but not well enough. Eventually she had retrieved it. Carefully, she smoothed out the creases until she could read his words.

On the platform she scanned the faces of strangers, looking for him.

He was there, as he had promised.

…………………………….

“Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you.” – Charlotte Whitton

Moonlight on The Ebro

April 26, 2014April 27, 2014 / Dee / 29 Comments

I thought I wasn’t going to make it again this week – apologies to Doug for missing his very intriguing photo prompt last week. I have been attending a conference in Italy – no, it was not lovely, nor was I lucky. The trip went something like this – 2 hour drive – 2.5 hour flight – 2 hours on a bus – 3 hour conference – half hour bus ride – 3.5 hour dinner (no time to change after arriving) 1 hour to hotel – 6 hours sleeping – 1 hour working breakfast – 3 hours of meetings – 2 hours on a bus – 2.5 hour flight back – 2 hour drive back home.

Are you exhausted? I was!

Thanks this week to Bjorn Rudberg for the photo prompt and as always to Rochelle for brilliantly shepherding the Friday Fictioneers into some semblance of order each week.

For some reason, I saw Spanish Civil War…

Genre: Historical fiction

Word Count:100

Moonlight on The Ebro

I remember.

The Ebro shimmered in the moonlight, unimpressed by our consuming passion. We lay holding each other so tight, we could scarcely breathe. The Brigade left quietly, at daybreak.

I taste the saltiness of tears and open my eyes. The music of the street floats in through faded shutters, it stirs memories of ‘Viva la Quinta Brigada’ your anthem, our song.

I am old, tired. I’ve waited a lifetime for my passionate fighter, mi amante.

In the cool evening air, I feel again the pressure of your strong arms. I fall freely, as I did all those years ago.

—o—o—o—o—o

For more information on the Spanish Civil War and of the men who went to fight against fascism in Spain – The International Brigade

A Very Private Dancer

April 11, 2014April 11, 2014 / Dee / 63 Comments

I was very surprised and delighted that Rochelle had chosen one of my photographs for the prompt this week. It was taken at the end of a fiesta in Valldemossa, a lovely little town in Majorca where we spent a very enjoyable day.

It is so good to see the number of writers taking part in Friday Fictioneers increasing week on week, justification, if any were needed, for Rochelle to continue her sterling work.

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

A Very Private Dancer

The dancer moves across wooden boards that shiver beneath his feet. A five-year old boy watches, marrying the dance with the music in his heart.

The crowd holds its breath then finally erupts with cheers and applause.

‘Cristobal, Cristobal,’ their chants escape through the fluttering banners, rising up into the warm night.

Alone in the shadows, the boy makes up his own steps. Stamping and twirling in his own time, imitating the uncle he adores; determination etched upon his serious face.

All too soon the world will learn of his exceptional talent.

For now though, his world is enough.

A Silent Star

April 2, 2014April 5, 2014 / Dee / 47 Comments

Hello fellow Friday Fictioneers, hope you’ve all had a good week. Mine has been hectic, got back from holiday last week (will post about it soon) to a pile of emails – do emails pile? Anyway, there were quite a lot of the little devils waiting for an answer…

Today, once again we bow to the summons from Madame Rochelle – thankfully she is still in charge of the proceedings, and to the photographic skills this week of Kent Bonham.

100 words are what is required to enter the world of Friday Fictioneers, what are you waiting for? Join us, we are quite normal – most of the time…

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

A Silent Star

Nora wanders onto the dimly lit set. Everything is different now. She falters then sees the lights. Standing in the bright spotlight of her memory she laughs, remembering heady days of stardom, the fawning of countless suitors.

Eyes wide, she strikes a pose for imaginary cameras, blowing kisses to imaginary fans.

‘My darlings, I’ll come back to you soon,’ she shouts to the empty space as the light fades.

‘Nora, the visit is over, time to go. Come along quietly. Look, your fans are waiting.’

‘They still adore me.’

She darts away, her high-pitched laughter ringing through the building.

*-*-*-*-*-*-

A nod to ‘ Norma Desmond’ the ageing silent star, played superbly by Gloria Swanson in the film “Sunset Boulevard”

Thanks to Rochelle, the Norma Desmond send up, by the brilliant Carol Burnett

100 Nightmares – coming very soon

March 29, 2014 / Dee / 3 Comments

Horror is not a genre I usually feel comfortable with. That said there is something about the writing of K.Z. Morano that draws you in, in spite of yourself. How someone who looks so sweet, could write such gut-wrenching stories baffled me when I first read her work. But she is a writer who can turn her pen to other genres too, and I admire her ability to do that.

She has put together 100 of her stories into a book ‘100 Nightmares’ which will be released very soon. Read them if you dare…

100 NIGHTMARES – COVER REVEAL!

COMING THIS APRIL! — official date TBA

100 NIGHTMARES by K.Z. Morano is a collection of horror stories written in exactly 100 words and accompanied by a few illustrations.

It takes a brief encounter with death to cause enduring nightmares.

A single well-placed blow could maim you for life…

One well-placed word could haunt you forever.

Micro-fiction is a blade—sharp, swift…

Sometimes it goes for the jugular, killing you in seconds.

Its silver tongue touches your throat and warm blood hisses before you can scream.

Sometimes, the knife makes micro-cuts in the sensitive sheath of your sanity, creating wounds that will fester throughout eternity.

Take my 100 words daily like a slow-acting poison or read them all and die of overdose.

Your call.

It’s your suicide after all.

The Author

K.Z. Morano is an eclectic eccentric… a writer, a beach bum and a chocolate addict who writes anything from romance and erotica to horror, fantasy, sci-fi and bizarro fiction. Over the past few months, her stories have appeared in various anthologies, magazines and online venues. Visit her at http://theeclecticeccentricshopaholic.wordpress.com/ where she posts short fiction and photographs weekly.

For more updates on the story collection like K.Z.’s Facebook page www.facebook.com/100Nightmares

Shabby Love

January 8, 2014January 8, 2014 / Dee / 28 Comments

Happy New Year!! Hope you are all well and keeping warm and dry as we battle this dreadful weather.

Welcome to another year of Friday Fictioneers, hosted as always by the one and only Rochelle. You can get more information about how to join our happy band, the rules and regulations etc., by going along to her website here. Thanks for the photo this week to Dawn Quyle Landau

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Shabby Love

Our meeting place has lost its charm.

I happened there by chance, and remembered

How much I loved you, once.

We met often, making plans for ‘sometime later’

Until the day you pressured me for things I could not do.

You lashed out, calling me prude and names

I’d never heard nor understood.

I ran from you in tears, upset and hurt,

Much later realising the valuable lesson learned.

Love is not always kind, or what you hoped for.

True love comes when you are least prepared for it.

The little hut is shabby now, like your supposed love for me.

———–

Click on the little blue froggy thing for more stories

Free

October 13, 2013 / Dee / 29 Comments

There has been quite a lot happening in my life just recently and the urge to write just got up and walked out. I had to have the lenses in my eyes replaced – not as horrific as it sounds I assure you – but a worry nevertheless. My work has also taken up too much of my time and I found I didn’t want to write – anything. I have missed Friday Fictioneers very much indeed; missed the contact with people who had become very supportive friends; missed the exchange with people who are kind enough and interested enough to follow my blog, such as it is. I did try to post something for the prompt last week, then deleted it as it was not much good. I am back to try again.

Forgive the out-pouring, but it matters to me that you know why I have been AWOL.

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

FREE

Beth found the bones at 6pm.

They lay in a shallow space between the overhanging rock face and the old irrigation channel she was working in; she had been clearing stones and old debris from it for the past two weeks.

Rob came over when she called and casually inspected her find.

‘Looks small, a child perhaps?’

‘No!’ Beth shuddered at the thought.

‘Children worked in places like this; the find is not unusual.’

As he gently moved the bones to one side, a soft sigh whispered past them and floated up on the cool evening air.

Free.

At last

Read other stories here

Sweet Revenge

May 2, 2013May 2, 2013 / Dee / 41 Comments

I missed Friday Fictioneers last week. I couldn’t make the deadline and I really missed reading everyone else’s stories. I am back this week in time to submit a story, but then I’m travelling to France for a few days. I will catch up when I get back. Thanks to Rochelle for never missing a beat, what would we do without her? Thanks to Kent Bonham for the photo this week, I’ve been lucky enough to have seen a lot of Gaudi’s work both in Barcelona and in Palma – totally unforgettable.

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

SWEET REVENGE

I stand silently in the shadows, waiting.

A taxi pulls up and a man alights. I quickly cross the road and as he opens the door I slip in behind him, heart pounding. He walks on down the hallway without looking back.

I scan the names on the mailboxes. Elena Avila – Penthouse. My former friend has come a long way indeed.

I slide the small, instantly recognisable gold box inside. It’s been resealed; she will see the expensive chocolates nothing else. She has always taken other people’s things, this time it’s my husband.

I’ve decided she can’t have him.