#FridayFictioneers – A Keeper

PHOTO PROMPT © DOUGLAS M. MACILROY

“Hey Susie, you want to keep this one,” Randy shouted from behind the laptop at the kitchen table.

Susie muted the tv, shushing the talking head and gave an exasperated shout back, “which one is that?”

This had been going on all morning and she had had enough.  It wasn’t fair that she was tortured just because Randy was out of work and bored.

“The one of that bird that flew into your office and crapped all over everything while you tried to get its picture.  Remember?”

“Yes,” she sighed.  “Gotta keep that one.  It cost too much to trash.”

WC:  100


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#FridayFictioneers – To Sleep

PHOTO PROMPT © Jeff Arnold

George sipped his coffee while reading the latest draft not realizing it had gone tepid. He winced.  Probably for the best.  That cup marked the last of pot number two, and his nerves were standing on end.  Sleep would never come. Tomorrow would be misery.

Pushing the cup away, he reached instead for a glass.  One made for his “other” favorite liquid.

Wine flowed around the smooth curl of the glass.  Red essence crashed into itself, crimson waves breaking on an ocean shore.

He sipped and read and felt his jangled nerves untangle.  Perhaps sleep would come tonight after all.

WC: 100


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#FridayFictioneers – Back in Time

Photo prompt copyright J Hardy Carroll

Marty swung the door up on the DeLorean and ignoring the looks at the steaming car, stepped out onto a sunny 1955, tree lined street. He waved at a woman and she screamed before running off.

The diner was just across the road. Just as he remembered it. He never thought he’d come back, but there was nowhere to eat in the future. Everything there had shut down.

He remembered great burgers. And fries to die for. Oh, and the malts! His stomach did a happy flip as he hurried across the street.

He never saw Biff round the corner.

WC: 100

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#FridayFictioneers – Virus

PHOTO PROMPT © Ceayr

Margie sat stiffly on the bench, her satchel placed beneath it, under a cloudless summer sky. Sparrows splashed in the fountain directly in front of her, but her glazed eyes never saw them.

A gloved man in a fine black suit came around the fountain to join her. He took note of her eyes and bare hands. It took all of his considerable will not to pull away.

“Do you have it?”

“Yes,” Margie replied standing and swaying as she found her feet.

She had disappeared before he carefully took the satchel in his gloved hand and left the park.

WC: 100


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#FridayFictioneers – Fruitarian?

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Liam crunched into the apple. Juice ran from the corners of his mouth and stuck in the bit of stubble he called a goatee. “That is so good.” He sat hard on the curb outside the store, held the apple high, and marveled. “I think I’ve found it.”

Emma shouldered her pack. “Congratulations. It’s an apple. You ready? We’ve got miles to go yet.”

“No listen. I read about this fruitarian diet and…” Crunch. “It could be for me.”

“That’s fine. Will’s grilling burgers tonight though.” Emma began walking.

“Hey wait! That’s tonight.”

Emma laughed. “More for us, I guess.”

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#FridayFictioneers – Behind the Curtain

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The papers would all say that it was their greatest performance. One for the ages.

The cast would never forget it.

Devon locked arms with his fellow performers and bowed low. The applause was deafening. Their smiles wide. The curtain fell as they waved enthusiastically to the adoring crowd.

He was found slumped against a wall in his dressing room the next morning. A spent pill bottle on the floor. Vodka bottle clutched in a fist.

A crumpled paper lay beside the stage make-up. He had scrawled one word.

“Sorry.”

The papers reported that he showed no signs of depression.

WC: 100


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#FridayFictioneers – How Much?

PHOTO PROMPT © Dawn Miller

“Just pick one already?” Josh said. “The game’s on soon.” They walked back through the gallery yet again.

Cindy shrugged. “I like them both. What do you think?”

“I’ll go with whichever’s cheaper.”

Cindy rolled her eyes before cutting him a look. “Men,” she mumbled as they neared the painting she was leaning toward. A red barn set beneath a blue sky on a field of green. It conjured memories she thought lost to her, causing tears to well in her eyes. “This one.”

Josh flipped the paper slip up to check the price. He thought he may cry also.

WC: 100


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