#FridayFictioneers Flash. Crash. Pop.

I work on poetry at my other blog, A Full Cup of Tea, and dabble in some short stories and flash fiction here with the FRIDAY FICTIONEERS. Every Friday authors from around the world gather to share their 100-word stories based on the photo prompt hosted by Rochelle Wisoff. We offer support, constructive criticism, and encouragement to each other. Readers are encouraged to comment. My contribution for the week follows the photo prompt below…

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Photo Prompt (C) Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

My husband, I knew the weather called for rain most of the day, so we threw the roast in the crock pot and set about watching the games and some laundry here and there. As the aroma of salty meat began to drift from the kitchen into the living room, the thunder crackled closer.

Flash. Crash. Pop.

Followed by a loud thunderous roar is what we heard just as the TV snapped off along with all the power on the block. The dog ran upstairs, and we all looked at one another in the growing shadows wondering what to do for dinner now.

-103 words based on a true story-

#FridayFictioneers Hit the Deck

I work on poetry at my other blog, A Full Cup of Tea, and dabble in some short stories and flash fiction here with the FRIDAY FICTIONEERS. Every Friday authors from around the world gather to share their 100-word stories based on the photo prompt hosted by Rochelle Wisoff. We offer support, constructive criticism, and encouragement to each other. Readers are encouraged to comment. My contribution for the week follows the photo prompt below…

Also counting this as my September Story a Day for the day.

PHOTO PROMPT -© Vijayay Sundaram

PHOTO PROMPT -© Vijaya Sundaram

 

Boom! Pop ! Zizzle! BANG!

A loud bang sounded nearby followed by a red glow and the gleeful voices of children up the street. It was August there should be any more fireworks.

“Hit the deck!” James shouted as he jumped to  the ground and covered his head with the couch pillow. “We’re taking on fire!”

Both he and the dog had taken up sheltered positions behind the recliner before I finished checking out the window. “It’s just the kids up the street setting off the last of their fireworks,” I calmly explained as I turned up the TV.

-98 words-

Veterans, PTSD, and fireworks http://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/military-vets-ptsd-4th-fireworks-can-be-nerve-wracking-n602526

 

#FridayFictioneers Buzzing Terror

I work on poetry at my other blog, A Full Cup of Tea, and dabble in some short stories and flash fiction here with the FRIDAY FICTIONEERS. Every Friday authors from around the world gather to share their 100-word stories based on the photo prompt hosted by Rochelle Wisoff. We offer support, constructive criticism, and encouragement to each other. Readers are encouraged to comment. My contribution for the week follows the photo prompt below…

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Janet Webb

Photo Prompt (C) Janet Webb

 

The glass from the front door shimmered in the midsummer sun.Buzzing terror emerged from the curved cast iron encasing the glass towards the nest resting above the front door. No sale is worth an anaphylactic shock, but Ms.VanDyne has bought thirty cases every year. Maybe I can go to the back door and avoid the buzzing terror; I thought to myself as I gripped my clipboard tightly with a start.

“How many?” I rasped as the EMT stabbed the needle in my leg. “Ms.VanDyne is out of town; a neighbor found you running around screaming in pain,” she replied.

-101 words-

 

 

#FridayFictioneers Hard Landing

I work on poetry at my other blog, A Full Cup of Tea, and dabble in some short stories and flash fiction here with the FRIDAY FICTIONEERS. Every Friday authors from around the world gather to share their 100-word stories based on the photo prompt hosted by Rochelle Wisoff. We offer support, constructive criticism, and encouragement to each other. Readers are encouraged to comment. My contribution for the week follows the photo prompt below…

PHOTO PROMPT © Melanie Greenwood

PHOTO PROMPT © Melanie Greenwood

 

 

I didn’t hear a word the crew said as passengers called out in panic when the plane rocked to the left.  Why hadn’t I paid attention during the safety briefing I lamented as I frantically searched for the safety card in front of me. Where were we I wonder briefly as I looked to my left to see the guy next to me yacking cheap liquor as the plane jolted again to the left. I was thankful I didn’t get motion sickness as the plane lurched forward and then landed with a loud thud on the hard pavement to cars honking.

~Word Count: 101 Words~

 

#FridayFictioneers : Season of Change

I work on poetry at my other blog, A Full Cup of Tea, and dabble in some short stories and flash fiction here with the FRIDAY FICTIONEERS. Every Friday authors from around the world gather to share their 100 word stories based on the photo prompt hosted by Rochelle Wisoff. We offer support, constructive criticism, and encouragement to each other . Readers are encouraged to comment. My contribution for the week follows the photo prompt below…

PHOTO PROMPT - © Jennifer Pendergast

PHOTO PROMPT – © Jennifer Pendergast

An aging woman with long black braided hair tugged on the canoe and shouted, “Do not leave me!”

“I must go. I am no longer a child; I have to make something of myself,” the young man answered calmly, without looking.

“You can do that here, among our people.”

“Now is the time for changes. These trees are turning from green to red after harvest just as my hair is beginning to fade from chestnut to rust.”

“Where will you go?”

“I will head south. Scouts told of the new army camp set up by the river.”

“Be careful, son.”

–Historical Fiction: 100 words–

Background: The characters in this story are based on my own family tree. My 6th great-grandmother on my mother’s side was a full-blood Cherokee woman of the Long Hair Clan. “Prisoners of war, orphans of other tribes, and others with no Cherokee tribe were often adopted into this clan”. She was married to a Scottish immigrant for a short time; I’m not sure how they met or became married. They had two children before divorce. Her son, my 5th great-grandfather, became and interpreter for the Cherokee Nation and a scout for the United States Army from the information I can find. I don’t know what they really looked like or if they really had any moments like this, but I imagine they had complex relationships and lived in a very dynamic time in history. I obviously took on the Scottish genetic traits with there being some Scotch/Irish on the other side of my tree to produce that double recessive MCR1 red hair gene.

Writer’s Lament

I’m back from taking a break to work on some poetry at my other blog, A Full Cup of Tea, and am now ready t to get back to working on some short stories and flash fiction with the FRIDAY FICTIONEERS. Every Friday authors from around the world gather to share their 100 word stories based on the photo prompt hosted by Rochelle Wisoff. We offer support, constructive criticism, and encouragement to each other . Readers are encouraged to comment. My contribution for the week follows the photo prompt below…

FF_santoshwriter (1)

PHOTO PROMPT – © Santoshwriter

Another grey, rainy day greeted me with a sad smile. Even the dog lethargically stretched with a wide yawn as my coffee dripped unenthusiastically into my mug. This was my third cup, but no amount of caffeine could shake the cold, grey shadows that had crept into my bones. I needed a vacation– desperately– from the rain, from my writing, from this miserable little cabin. I needed some sun, some warmth, and needed it now! Before I lost it, and became one of those writers that you read about in the papers…

Found wandering naked in the woods, mumbling about fictional characters.

—Writer’s Lament: 102 words—

Magic Lost

garden maze

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Melanie Greenwood

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS: EVERY FRIDAY AUTHORS FROM AROUND THE WORLD GATHER TO SHARE THEIR 100-WORDS BASED ON THE PHOTO PROMPT HOSTED BY ROCHELLE WISOFF, OFFERING CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM AND ENCOURAGEMENT TO EACH OTHER. READERS ARE ENCOURAGED TO COMMENT AS WELL. HERE’S MY SHORT CONTRIBUTION…

“The garden will heal you, Colleen,” I told my sister as I pushed her wheelchair into the maze of greenery, “gardens are magic.” She looked at me coldly as I sat down next to her beneath the pecan tree.
“I read it in book. Books are also magic.” I tried to explain to her.
“Hmm…there’s no such thing as magic, Maryanne” she sighed in frustration.
I took her to the garden everyday but she never did believe. As I ran through the garden, thorns grabbing at my black dress, I did not know whether I believed in magic anymore.

–Friday Fictioneers:100 words–