#FridayFictioneers – Entity of Cold


PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Tommy’s coffee was not enough to stop the shivers. This winter is ridiculous. How much can I take?

Inside, even shielded from the cutting wind, the cold was there, a living entity, seeping from the brick and mortar into him as he walked to his apartment.

The cold greeted him in his apartment. The radiator sat wrapped in cold against the wall, too stubborn to light. Too cold.

He walked to the window. Slid it open. Why not? Climbing onto the ledge, the wind cut his dry, chapped skin, but it wasn’t satisfied. It slid around his back and pushed.

Why fight it?


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#FridayFictioneers – S’mores


PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

The rain was gone, and the kids wanted s’mores.

“No way,” I called back on the drive home. “Wood’s wet.”

“S’mores, s’mores, s’mores,” came the raucous call from the backseat.

Pulling in the drive I said, “go in. Get ready. I’ll start the fire.” I winked at my wife. There was a little dry kindling hid back. Maybe I could get something going. She smiled back.

They cheered. Then I did my Big Bad Wolf impression, huffing and puffing until a tendril of smoke burst to flame. Extremely proud, I called up to the house.

“Quiet. You’ll wake the kids.”

WC: 100


#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!

#FridayFictioneers – Shiner Car?

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

“What happened Ted.”

“Um, we were hiking.  Saw the car and Susie said maybe it was an old shiner’s car.  They used to run moonshine all through those hills, you know?”  Ted looked at the woman.

“Yes, I’ve heard.  Go on.”

“Well, we checked it out you know.  Thought that maybe there’d be some shine in there.”

“Okay.”

“We didn’t do nothing wrong you know.  Where’s Susie?”

“Susie is with Officer Alvarez giving her statement.  Same as you.”

“Oh.”

“Continue please.”

“We pried open the trunk… and… and,” his voice broke as he said, “that’s where we found the bodies.”

WC:  100


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#FridayFictioneers – Lightning Glass

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The ball sailed through the air in slow motion.  Faster than either of us caught in that horrible time warp of fear.

The cracks in the glass just appeared.  Like lightning shattering a clear night sky.

After staring at each other for an eternity, we set to work with the tape.  If we did it just right, no one would notice.  It was a good job, too.  It must have been.  We used the whole roll of tape before stepping back, satisfied with our handiwork.

Playing in our room we heard mom and dad come in.

“Boys!  Get out here.”

WC:100


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#FridayFictioneers – The Game

PHOTO PROMPT © Priya Bajpal

Rosie wrung her hands and began reaching before forcing a stop.  She leaned back with a hint of a smile.  Her cheeks bloomed red.

The game was simple.  Everyone writes their wildest fantasies, pops ’em into the jar, and shakes ’em up.  Then the “fun” starts.  The fun was figuring out who matched what fantasy, one at a time, until they were all found out.

Rosie glanced at Ken.  He smiled wide in return, a knowing twinkle in his eye.

This somehow calmed her.

“Everyone ready?” Barb asked before emptying her wine.  “Time to play.”

Rosie’s heart skipped a beat.

WC:  100


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#FridayFictioneers – Fences

PHOTO PROMPT © Russell Gayer

“Wait.”  Randell held up a hand.  “Climb…that?”

“Yeah,” I replied.  “It’ll be fun.  Look at it.”

“I see.  I see a fence and No Trespassing signs just back there.”

I shrugged.  “No signs here.”

“That’s not how that works,” Randell said.

“Oh well, I’m a free spirit.  Ever heard that song, Signs?  ‘Put up a fence to keep me out, or to keep all the nature in,'” I sang.

“Yeah, I know it.”

“Besides, who’s gonna know?  You gonna tell?”

We slipped the fence just before three large, rifle toting patches of grass rose up.

“That’s far enough boys.”

WC:  100


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#FridayFictioneers – The Goat

PHOTO PROMPT © Randy Mazie

Lightning streaked the sky.

Randy woke as the thunder crashed to find himself strapped to the cold concrete of the mausoleum.  He wished he could rub his aching back.  Or just stretch, but rough rope cut into both wrist and ankle.  A scream squeaked past strained vocal chords and trembling lips.

The gathered didn’t notice his struggles, their glazed eyes stared into the distance from within deep hoods.

Eyes he knew.  These people bought his goats.

A smiling, dagger toting man approached the mausoleum.

“Wait!  I’ll give you a goat.  A freebie.”

“Goat?”  He smiled.  “Tonight, you are the goat.”

WC:  100


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