#WeekendCoffeeShare – Sore Throated Coffee Share

~ Russell ~ 6 Comments

cropped-cappuccino-on-table

If we were having coffee, I’d offer you a cup from the freshly brewed pot just there in the kitchen, and warn you not to get too close.  My throat started hurting last night, and even though I’ve medicated throughout the day, it’s still hurting.  So, grab some coffee or something more to your liking, but don’t get too close.

We have football on the tv, but the sound is down to allow us to listen to some music.  Right now, Alanis is singing “That I Would Be Good,” a nice relaxing but thought provoking tune. Continue reading “#WeekendCoffeeShare – Sore Throated Coffee Share” →

#FridayFictioneers – First Job

~ Russell ~ 39 Comments
PHOTO PROMPT © Jilly Funell

Jake smiled as he read the text.

–coffee shop.  mall.  5–

Excited for his first job since the Army, he showered, dressed, and set out early.  It would be nice to get back to what he knew.

She sat alone sipping from a white paper cup.  The over-sized sunglasses fell short of covering her swollen black eye.

“Sarah?”

She nodded, pulled a bulging envelope from a small pink purse, and slid it over.

***

Jake compared the picture to the black haired man held in the cross-hairs.  It was him.  His breathing slowed melting the nerves away, exhaled and pulled the trigger.

WC:  100

Continue reading “#FridayFictioneers – First Job” →

#WeekendCoffeeShare -Back to Writing, but Not Running.

~ Russell ~ 5 Comments

cappuccino on table

If we were having coffee, I would apologize for the venue just before apologizing for standing you up on our coffee date last week.  We find ourselves in yet another hotel lobby this evening, but the coffee is pretty good.  (At least it’s hot.)  It was the best I could do.  All the coffee shops within walking distance closed early, except Dunkin of which I am not a fan.  So here we are.  Go ahead and grab a cup and I’ll refresh mine. Continue reading “#WeekendCoffeeShare -Back to Writing, but Not Running.” →

#FridayFictioneers – Getting Down

~ Russell ~ 15 Comments
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Billy sat stunned in the grass watching Sally climb.  She was half monkey.  More than half.  She scaled the shear wall, finding invisible holds, ascending the ancient stone with ease.

“Come on up,” Sally called from from her perch atop the wall, receiving a doubtful look in return.  “I’ll guide you.”

Wanting to be like his big sis, Billy placed hesitant hands to stone.  Then he was climbing under Sally’s direction, finding invisible holds until he was too high to fall and too low to reach Sally.

“Help!”

Walking away, Sally called back, “Help?  But getting down is so easy.”

WC:  100

Continue reading “#FridayFictioneers – Getting Down” →

#WeekendCoffeeShare – Almost Normal

~ Russell ~ 6 Comments

cropped-cappuccino-on-table

If we were having, I would be drinking Stok (Pronounced stoke as it’s written with a line over the o) cold brew with milk.  It’s good stuff.  I get the black unsweetened variety and add stuff or not.  Either way, good stuff!  Help yourself to a cup, and doctor it up if you like.

Hopefully you all had a great week!  Mine was pretty good as we inched back toward normalcy.  We still have a little way to go, as there are many in the area that have been affected by flooding.  Not us, but there is some rough places not far from us and some roads still effected by water.  All the roads should be clear by mid-week and we will be that much closer to normal. Continue reading “#WeekendCoffeeShare – Almost Normal” →

#FridayFictioneers – Needed

~ Russell ~ 27 Comments
PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior

“Hallelujah,” Bob exclaimed as the elevator door opened.  He unslung his pack as he stepped into the lobby, computer booting before reaching the table.

It had been a long night driving.  Traffic was horrible.  The kids were wound tight, but were down now with his wife, fast asleep.

He should sleep too, but the story came to him driving, and wouldn’t wait.  Bloodshot eyes locked onto the coffee table.  Just what he needed.

Cold black syrup filled the cup.  The first sip went down with a grimace.  The second was better, not good but needed.

Time to get to work.

#FridayFictioneers is a weekly blog link up hosted by Rochelle over at RochelleWisoff.com. You should totally check it out and perhaps try your hand at writing a 100 word story.

Good luck!

Warriors – Episode 9 – Getting Out of Town

~ Russell ~ 1 Comment

This was written as part of a larger story delivered in a serial format.

Previous episodes can be found here.

Colt stood and pissed in the corner before kicking chamber pot over. Everything he owned went into a leather apron wrapped bundle, which was little more than a single change of clothes and a metal spike, and walked out the door.

He paused at the stairs and looked back over his shoulder. His life had been spent in that room. It was all he knew, all he had besides the small bundle he held tight to his chest. What a waste, he thought as he sat his bundle on the floor. He removed the spike and slipped it into his boot before stepping away from the door.

The darkness of the forge was complete. Heavy wood shutters that propped up to provide shade in the day, folded down providing security at night, keeping any light from star or moon at bay. Colt took small shuffling steps in the darkness, hands stretched out before him, searching for the door. He found it in moments, a lifetime of working the forge let him find his way easily in the dark.

What he was going to do after opening that door, he didn’t know. He did know that it was time to go. Time to step into the outside world.

Colt pushed the door to find it locked from the outside. Of course. He stepped back, kicked, and heard the lock rattle. He kicked again, before dipping a shoulder and charging, but the door was thick, the hinges forged by Colt himself were strong and the lock held firm.

Slumping defeated against the unmovable door, the darkness pressed in on him as he contemplated going back upstairs. Anger welled up in him and his eyes moistened. His escape was ended before it began.

The hope, so strong, that had brought him downstairs, that had allowed him to piss in the floor, had left him broken and crying just one flight of stairs later. Dawn began to seep through cracks in the thick shutters giving Colt’s eyes, deprived of any light for hours, sight enough to make out his surroundings.

Sight brought clarity to his mind. Master Ham would be there soon to open the shop. Not long after Crandall would show up wanting the swordax. The swordax.

He pulled the weapon from the wall and tested the weight of it. It felt right. Like escape. Walking back to the door, he hefted the weapon over his shoulder and swung. Wood flew in chunks as the heavy weapon smashed into the door.

Colt stepped into the emptiness of the city’s dawn. The sun barely broke the horizon but seemed bright to his light deprived eyes. Soon it would climb high, the salt wind would blow, and the street would flow with people going about their business. Master Ham would be one of them. He decided that it would be a good idea if he was gone by then.

Colt ran, not bothering to leave the main road. The world slept around him, their slumber providing cover for his escape.

This is the ninth installment of my serial lovingly named Warriors.  It is my goal to have a new episode every week or so depending on how life goes.  Please bear with me if I’m not as punctual as I would like.  Another portion will be posted soon with a target word count between 500 and 1,000.

If you would like to read the previous episodes, I have linked to the Warriors page at the top of this post!

I hope you enjoyed this portion of our story!  I look forward to seeing you as we continue the journey and welcome any comments you may have.

Thanks for visiting!