Maggie’s Choice

November 15, 2013 / Dee / 31 Comments

My story is rather bleak as that is how most things have seemed to me this week, though I have tried for a hopeful ending.

Thanks go as usual to Rochelle for continuing to host Friday Fictioneers. I must admit to slight envy when I read in her post that she will be meeting up with some Fictioneers this weekend, it must be so good to meet up in person with the people whose stories we read each week. I can dream…

Thanks also to Kent Bonham for the intriguing photograph this week.

Genre: Fiction

Word Count 100

Maggie’s Choice

Maggie walked carefully down the dimly lit back street. Her small bag contained the items she was told she would need, afterwards. The house in the back street was her only option, no-one must ever find out about ‘It.’

The bright room smelled strongly of antiseptic; the strange array of equipment on the starched white cloth, looked alien and frightening. Though her body had healed after the violent assault, the nightmare continued. Tom still could not bring himself to touch her and now, this.

She endured the pain and, with her body cleansed, at last felt ready to move on.

For more stories click the little blue froggy thing

Making a Scene

November 6, 2013November 6, 2013 / Dee / 46 Comments

Greek mythology has always been of great interest, I love the way the stories that have been handed down through the generations, are part myth, part magic and part history. The photo this week, courtesy of Al Forbes was always going to inspire one Greek tragedy or another. I decided to take a slightly different view, but I think I have managed to get some of the attributes of Hermes into my effort this week. So, a fanfare for the goddess of Friday Fictioneers Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, as she summons us all once more to the podium.

Courtesy of Al Forbes

Fleeing the Scene

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Waking from a deep sleep I stretch feline-like

And then relax into the deep comforting mattress

Unbidden the memory returns.

The words cut deep, wounding us both,

Hateful bile spilled out of our mouths as we paced the room,

I cursed you for taking my love and trampling it underfoot,

For cheating and betraying me.

You grabbed my arms and roughly twisted one behind me

Trying to force me down onto the floor,

I felt excitement first then fury, that sheer strength could overcome me

Where words had failed

Shaken by your intentions you ran, fleeing the scene

And me

I’ve just found out that this is my 200th post and I have to admit I’m rather chuffed to have got this far.

A Different Life

October 18, 2013 / Dee / 31 Comments

It’s time for Friday Fictioneers again. Many thanks to Rochelle for captaining our ship and keeping us on course, and to Janet Webb for providing the watery theme for the 100 word challenge this week. My story follows the photograph.

A Different Life

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Noor clawed the baked earth around her failing crop; her baby son slept on her back, too weak to cry. Solomon set off weeks ago to look for work, the water he left them was all gone. It was thirty miles to the aid station, Noor knew if her son was to live, she had to make the journey again.

Nora stood looking out, praying for a break in the weather. It had rained constantly for six days. The garden was a sodden mess, no place for the bouncy castle or Disney Princess tent. She considered cancelling the birthday party.

One Child – for Right2Write Prompt 9 Stop Terrorism

September 9, 2013September 9, 2013 / Dee / 2 Comments

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

helenvalentina

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

For Right2Write prompt 9 at http://howanxious.wordpress.com

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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Timeless

September 4, 2013 / Dee / 53 Comments

Suddenly, it’s Wednesday again and time for Friday Fictioneers (don’t ask, just accept it, we do) ~Writers from all over the globe come together to submit their 100 word stories or poems, inspired by the weekly prompt sent out by our lovely purple leader Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. It is her birthday today so join me in sending her the warmest of birthday wishes. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROCHELLE. The photo this week comes courtesy of the lady herself, my story follows the photo.

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Timeless

“It’s just clutter, nothing of value, why can’t I throw it out?”

“That’s my grandmother’s button tin you’re holding. Remember how we used the big buttons to teach you to count?”

Laura glared at her mother and sighed.

“You don’t need any of it.”

“How do you know what I need?”

“I look after you mother, I think I know.”

Isobel watched as her daughter walked around, calculating how many boxes they’d need.

“Laura, you pop in briefly, collect my prescription, get my groceries, but you can’t give me what I need.”

“And what would that be?”

Isobel smiled

“Time.”

Where trees are fallen

August 16, 2013 / Dee / 26 Comments

Another week, another post for Friday Fictioneers. Follow our leader Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, then join our merry band. Thanks this week for the photo go to Roger Bultot.

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Where Trees Are Fallen

“Jarvis,the car! Get me away from these people.”

“They’ve just returned you as their MP, for a second time sir.”

“And what happened to my previous majority?”

“Yes that’s odd, especially as you were born here sir.”

“We don’t mention that, remember?

“Sorry sir, I thought….”

“You didn’t think, otherwise you wouldn’t have allowed that moron in to rant at me”

“But you altered the route of the new railway. The land had been in his family for years.”

“Tough. It’s called progress.”

“Surely you could have listened sir?”

“I did. Now get the bloody car!

“Sir, about the car…”

Give me a land of boughs in leaf,
A land of trees that stand;
Where trees are fallen there is grief;
I love no leafless land.”
– A.E. Housman

At the moment we have great arguments raging here about the new HS2 train which, if it goes ahead, will cut a swathe through huge chunks of the English countryside. The photo made me think of all the trees that are in danger, the ancient woodlands that will disappear.

Click on Mr Froggy for more stories

Busy Bees

July 31, 2013July 31, 2013 / Dee / 35 Comments

Last week was one of those weeks best forgotten. I did no writing but lots of driving and listening, to mainly boring people, talking about mainly boring topics. I missed my Friday Fictioneers fix, like lots of others I look forward to Wednesday when the email from Rochelle drops in my inbox and I wonder in what direction the photo prompt will take me. The photo this week is courtesy of Jennifer Pendergast -hmmm

Genre: Horror

Word Count: 100 words

Busy Bees

The giant bee at the entrance attracted local newspaper headlines.

GIANT BEE LANDS IN HONEYPOT

HONEY, I GOT STUNG!

Alice ignored them and carried on with her work.

The giant bee was the idea of the PR-savvy graduate, foisted on her for the summer.

Alice ignored her too, and went to talk to her bees.

“She’s a problem, but we can’t have too many questions asked.”

“Buzzzz,buzzzzzzzzzz?”

“Just as you wish.”

That night as Alice drank the golden elixir, which she had done inside one shape or form for three hundred years, the hives were empty.

The swarm was forming.

PS – I needed an extra word, so I hope the hyphenated PR-savvy is allowed.

The Convict

July 10, 2013 / Dee / 46 Comments

This week’s photo prompt comes courtesy of Randy Maizie. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write 100 words on whatever the photo suggests to you. All submissions are scutinised by our leader Rochelle Wisoff-Fields aka Mrs Phelps and enjoyed by all the other Friday Fictioneers. Good luck!

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

The Convict

After eight gruelling months, the Barossa reached Hobart.

Released from their shackles, the prisoners staggered on deck for the muster. Richard stood quietly. There was no escaping the unyielding heat of the southern sun. Briefly he envied those who had died in their chains.

The charge was murder; lacking evidence the gallows were exchanged for penal servitude. He was innocent; friends and family knew it and it pained him to accept that he would never see them again.

He laboured hard, eventually receiving his ticket. His homeland forbidden him, Richard settled in Van Diemen’s Land and died there aged 56.

This is based on the research I have been doing on my family tree. I have an ancestor who was transported to Van Diemen’s Land – present day Tasmania – accused of murdering a special constable who was trying to quieten a mob during a Chartist riot. Richard was found guilty, based on the evidence of someone who remembered ‘a tall lad in a brightly woven cap’. He escaped the gallows only to endure transportation for life. He was 21. Forbidden ever to return home, he made a life in Hobart.

For more information on Convicts in Australia

A Story of Love

July 5, 2013 / Dee / 24 Comments

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.

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.

Musical Memory Lane

June 29, 2013 / Dee / 28 Comments

When I first saw this photo, I thought of the brightly painted camper van that used to park outside our house. It belonged to the boyfriend of the lady who lived next door to us, it seemed a wonderful magical thing to my childish eyes. It was the 60’s, a time of great change in the world, the one that most affected me at the time was the music. Now I had The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, The Righteous Brothers, The Supremes, The Byrds….with tongue in cheek and your indulgence, I give you my trip down a musical memory lane

Musical Memory Lane

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

Hey Mr Tambourine Man, you’re the king of the road and I’ll never find another you. Baby don’t go.

Just once in my life I want to be with the ‘in’ crowd. I’ve got a heart full of soul and you’re like a rolling stone.

Didn’t you hear me crying in the chapel? You’ve lost that lovin’ feeling and I want you back in my arms again.

You’ve got your troubles, but you keep singing the same old song and I’m tired of waiting.

Stop! In the name of love

I can’t get no satisfaction; baby, the rain must fall.

Thanks to Rochelle for conducting the Friday Fictioneers, we dance to her tune each week. Thanks for the great photo to Indira Mukerjee via Scott Vanatter.