Shore – Photo by Sue Vincent
I looked at the faces around the dinner table. There wasn’t a spark amongst them, they all looked tired and about ready to fall down on the spot. It had been rough going and the future didn’t look any easier.
That was it. Something had to be done to keep everyone upright. After dinner I sat and thought about it.
It was obvious that we as a family were unstable and likely to collapse, and that we as individuals were almost as bad. I knew that I was pretty close to that point where the gravity of the situation might take over. I needed something to hold myself together, to prop me up. I knew that if I was stable, it would be the first step in keeping us all upright. One solid beam could do it.
But how do you fix the foundations of a person and a family? Continue reading
PHOTO PROMPT © Magaly Guerrero
Margret talked about her Great Aunt Isabel from the day I met her. The matriarch of her clan had done everything, been everywhere. Her family lived in this larger-than-life character’s enormous shadow. Perhaps “great” was a title or description, not a generational mark.
I was nervous when I finally met her. As we waited in the parlor, I noticed the stacks of oversized books here and there, and the random platform shoes tossed carelessly about.
When the giant of Margret’s family arrived, I went into shock. She could barely see the table top, even seated on her stack of books. Continue reading
Tortor was a warrior and understood how the world worked. He shook his head as he looked around the earthworks and the stones. He approached the man who was obviously in charge.
“Hey you, what’s your name?”
The man slowly turned and studied Tortor as if he were an insect.
“They call me Tim, Tim the Enchanter. What do you want, Tortor the Stonehead?”
Tortor’s mouth dropped. It wasn’t just the insult, but he had no idea how the man knew his name. Regaining control, he tried to drill holes into Tim the Enchanter with his eyes. Failing that he said, “Look here, Tim, I know a thing or two about defense. The ditch needs to be on the outside of the earthwork, not the inside. What good is this going to do when the defenders can’t reach the wall and the attackers will just climb right over it as if they are out for a Sunny-day picnic?” Continue reading
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
I knew there was trouble when she left a message that she was celebrating our 15th anniversary.
It had been 15 years since the divorce, not the marriage.
Hey lady, we split because you had the affair, not me. If my second marriage worked and yours didn’t, well, I’m sorry.
She didn’t answer or return my calls. That was bad.
I used my spare to key to enter her apartment. It was filthy.
I found the partially eaten pizza with the powder on top, the empty medicine vials and the half bottle of wine. Then I saw the body.
Word count = 99
Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © Dale Rogerson. Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.
PHOTO PROMPT © Jellico’s Stationhouse
Mom tried to hide her tears when she was in my room. I only smiled.
It was spring. I knew Mom had gone down to the park for her walk. I’m sure the park was filled with kids with their kites and balls and bikes. I could imagine them playing and running and riding.
With my eyes I could only see the blank ceiling, but with my mind I could see more, the shadows etched in heart. I knew what Mom saw as well; a shadow of my forever empty, lonely bicycle, the one that I’d never ride again.
— Continue reading
PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria
The sign said, “Harbour Cruise on a Pirate Ship!” The three-master seemed out of place amongst the huge cargo ships, but we had to do it.
I was surprised that before we reached open water, the captain steered us between two hulking vessels. We were soon surrounded by skiffs, the masked crewmen all carrying AK-47s.
The passengers were taken out, distributed in the small boats and then blindfolded. The skiffs motored around for a while before returning us to the pier, where blindfolds were removed.
By the time I realized my wallet was missing, the ship and sign were gone.
— Continue reading
Consciousness slowly flowed into Seb, like the tide over the sand flats. Nothing is there, and then you notice the waves coming closer. Eventually the water is at your feet. Seb noticed the glow long before he became aware that he was awake. Hearing and feeling, like his consciousness, faded in a bit at a time. First it was a numbness that admitted “numb” was not necessarily “nothing”. It slowly grew to cold and pain, while the slight ringing in his ear grew to a ringing roar.
In the back of the roar Seb could hear the continuing battle. He could feel the ground shake from the concussions.
“But Mother,” Seb said, “You always say things like that. You call me special, and yet every child of every mother is special. If we are all special, then none of us are.”
“Ah, but to a mother they are all special,” she said. “And you are. You, Seb, are extraordinary.”
“No, I am a nothing, a nobody, like everybody else.”
Seb thought back. He tried to understand how he ended up face down in the cold field. Continue reading
I awoke at dawn, as always, even though his alarm obviously didn’t go off. I wasn’t hungry, so I did my morning walk through the wisps of the dying fog on getting up. Breakfast could wait.
The fields, ever my friends, called my name and welcomed me as I forged a path through the dew-damp weeds. The wet cold of my shoes kept me cleanly in the present, forcing me to take in the splendors of the new day. The distant trees, still a mirage only glimpsed as the sun burned away the mist, for some reason reminded me of him. My heart beat faster, as my brain told me lies.
“He is out there, just over the next little hill, behind that little splash of woods. He’s there. Hurry, you can catch up,” my brain seemed to say, against all logic. Continue reading
PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
I had previously only seen the mansion from the road, the faded glory only a glimpse behind the fence and trees. I knew that back in the day it was meant to be seen as a sign of wealth. We were sneaking in the back way.
“Are you sure nobody watches this?”
“Positive. Nobody will mess with their security.”
We entered the mansion in the pitch dark.
“You contradicted yourself there.”
“So, if nobody watches the place, what’s their security?”
A glow met us at the end of the hall. It resolved itself into a decomposing woman.
— — — Continue reading
PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast
Jason explored the park. Everything was fresh and new to his four-year-old mind. I couldn’t have been happier sharing this with him.
I soon realized we were being watched. I said ‘hi’ to the old lady. I could see the past in her eyes as we talked. When it was time to leave, she told me to enjoy these moments while I could.
I laughed. Life from the vantage of age must be bleak.
Wasn’t that just yesterday?
Today, as Jason said his “I do”s at the alter, I thought of the lady and the moments now lost in time.
— — — Continue reading