Tag Archives: micro fiction

Rose

mg-rose-stem

PHOTO PROMPT © Marie Gail Stratford

We entered the house, me in front, followed by Ben, who I knew held the gun.  He couldn’t see my smile.

My partner, Rose, would be out of sight and be able to strike Ben before he knew she was there.

Walking into the kitchen with confidence, I noticed the note.

“Finish the job or I nip this flower in the bud.”

“Rose?” I called out.

“Mr. Ng arrived first,” Ben said.

I turned to him.

“It’s you or her.”  He smiled.  “Partner.”  It wasn’t a nice smile.

I saw the dead flowers as we left and thought of Rose.

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Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © Marie Gail Stratford.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

— — Continue reading

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Partners

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

I stared down the barrel of Ben’s pistol.  Why wasn’t I dead?

“Where is it?” He jabbed with the gun.

So, Ben was double-crossing Mr. Ng.

“It’s in Canada.”

“Canada?  That’s an awfully big country.”

I smiled.  “That’s why you need me.  Partners?”  I held out a hand.

“Partners.”  Ben shook my hand.

I reached for my gun.  “No, you stay unarmed.”  I shrugged.  He needed me.

48 hours later we landed at Mirabel.  We hit the suburbs by midnight.

It was snowing; from sweating to shivering in 2 days.

The house contained my real partner, not the attaché case.

— — —

Word count = 100

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“.

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Note – This is a continuation of last week’s story, On the Run.  Come on Rochelle, why did you have to make it so hard with this choice of photos? ;)

Note 2 – I used to be an Air Traffic Controller and handed planes off to Montreal.  At that time, we called the airport Mirabel.  When I looked it up, the name had changed!  OK, so I still call DCA “National” and will never call it “Reagan”, so I will always call Montreal “Mirabel”…

On the Run

js-brand

PHOTO PROMPT © JS Brand

An unknown town in a little-known country.  It would be safe.

I walked along the quay, heading for the dilapidated hotel.  The rainbow hues of the river were chopped by heavy traffic; the pier’s bustle a conflagration of noise and activity.    At only 9 AM, I was already sweating.

The receptionist didn’t know English, French, or Spanish.  Hard cash, as always, was clearly understood.

I tossed my backpack onto the bed, my .45 Semi-Automatic as well.  I went into the washroom.  Returning, I met Ben, his gun aimed at me.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

— — —

Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © JS Brand.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

Note: this was continued with Partners  and Rose.  I also started a long version.

The Spirits of the Trees

stumps

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Tera laughed all of the way to my parent’s house.  When we got there, though, her face fell.

Opening the back door, she ran out into the field instead of towards her grandparents.

Last time we were there, I had noticed that the two beautiful trees in the field had died.  Now they were just stumps and piles of logs.

Tera approached my mom, tears in her eyes.  “Grandma, what about the fairies?  Where did they go when the trees were chopped down?”

Isn’t she old to believe in fairies?

But Mom knew.  “I planted new trees.  They’ll be back.”

— — —

Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © Sandra Crook.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

New Car

derelict-building-sandra-crook

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

The car was in great shape. It was economical, too.   Gas was getting harder to find.

I went into the building.  It had been a convenience store.  Perhaps I could find some food as well as the keys.

I was out of luck.  The shelves had already been raped of anything useful.

I was just about to open the door, which I hoped led to the upstairs apartment, when I heard a noise.

She was young.  The gun waved uncertainly.

I smiled.

Half an hour later I left town in my new car, captive tied up in the passenger seat.

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Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © Sandra Crook.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

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I am about half way through Stephen King’s book “The Stand”.  Perhaps I was influenced ;) (of course it could set during a war, after a battle, not after the great plague…)

Summer of ’71

amusement-park-jhardy

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

It was the greatest summer of our young lives, wasn’t it?  Riding our bikes into town every sunny day, reading comic books when it rained.  Swimming, laughing and playing the days away.

Remember going to Cedar Point?  We rode every attraction possible.  We weren’t tall enough for the big coasters yet, but made ourselves sick on the spinning rides and cotton candy.

I was surprised when I received the envelope from Marge and this photo fell out.

And then I saw her note.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there to say goodbye, but we will always have the summer of ’71.

— — —

Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © J Hardy Carroll.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

Note – Cedar Point is a large amusement park in northern Ohio.  Back in the 70s it was more of a local and regional favorite, but now is known all over for its roller coasters.

Letter Home

sarahs-spider-web-potter

PHOTO PROMPT © Victor and Sarah Potter

Hi Mom and Dad,

The bananas arrived fine.  Luckily there were no problems with customs.

I have to tell you about my new home!  It is spacious as all get out.  Huge.  I find it slightly sterile, but there is some life here.  I’m settling right in and have picked out my favorite corner.

But I have big news.  Are you ready?

I didn’t know it, but when I left I was pregnant.  Isn’t that great!

Last night I laid about 20,000 eggs.  I can’t wait for my brood to hatch!

My children will dine on human tonight!

Love,

Araña

— — —

Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © Victor and Sarah Potter.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

The Beautiful Stars

Milkyway

I must have been about eight at the time, maybe nine.  I had never left the city farther than some of closer in ‘burbs, and here we were camping in the open in the middle of Montana.  I was so mesmerized by the stars that I couldn’t sleep.  I just lay on my back, staring straight up.

I watched those same stars, eyes wide open.  Only this time they were brighter.  Although I knew the small differences that could be created by position of the planets was totally insignificant compared to the light years that lay between my and those stars, they seemed closer, infinitely closer.

With my first real taste of space from the big sky of Montana’s thin air, I knew that I couldn’t stay in the city forever.  And even the mountains out West were too confined.  I had to explore.  I had to go out There.

And I did.

As I watched the glorious stars, I thought back on how I had pushed myself.  I followed the standard path set up so many years before I was born.  I studied mechanical engineering but got a Masters Degree in Physics.  I went into the Air Force and flew fighter jets.  I became a test pilot.  Finally I was chosen to be an astronaut.

My third trip up was to explore the “dark side” of the Moon.  Of course there is plenty of light, it is just facing away from Earth.

Or there should have been light.

We crashed in the shadows just shy of our destination.  There was no Earth in our sky and no sun, just stars.

I say “our”, but I was the only one to survive.  And that, just barely.

But I am content to wait out these last few hours, unable to move, laying flat on my back, staring at my beautiful stars.

A Temporary Exhibit

roger-bultot-art-exhibit

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

“Looks like a setting for a Frank Baum book,” Dad said of the outdoor exhibit.

“Cool!  It’s a pirate ship!”  Jim said.  Mother held his hand, or I’m sure he would have been up in the rigging in a minute.

“Someone left their underwear on a clothesline,” Mother said.  “See-through negligées.” Sue blushed.

I didn’t say anything, but watched as the dark clouds rush in.  Trees bent as the front hit.

We ran for the door, a surreal dance surrounding us.  Dodging the flying fabric, we made it inside.

I finally had my word. “I guess it’s heading for Oz.”

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Word count = 100

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © Roger Bultot.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.

(In case you had forgotten, Frank Baum wrote the Oz series)

To a Different Time

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PHOTO PROMPT © Björn Rudberg

“That was great,” Jen said.  We’d just finished our lunch at a small brew pub that served only locally sourced foods.  Before lunch, we’d visited their little brewery to see how the beverages were made.

I agreed and felt more in the mood to shop with her.

We went into a store full of hand knotted goods and then to a place selling locally made glassware.  Shop after shop of locally made and artisanal goods greeted us.  Expensive, but worth it.

Scott had teased us about going to “Hippieville”, but I was curious.  I believe I have seen the future.

— — —

I have read that besides a handful of occupations in healthcare, almost every job in the world can be automated away.  I firmly believe that what will save us in the end aren’t the huge corporations trying to make us all wear the exact same cookie cutter outfits and watch the same insipid brain-dead TV shows, but in the small handcrafted items and artisinal goods.  I think it is the wave of the future, not a window on the past, as too many see it.

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Word count = 100 (Not including editorial ;) )

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt is here and uses a photo provided by © Björn Rudberg.  Read more or join in by following the InLinkz “linky“.