#FridayFictioneers – The Party’s Over

The Johnson’s checked out early Sunday morning to return home in preparation for the week ahead.

“What a weekend,” Ronny yawned to his wife as he unlocked the door and swung it open.  The stench hit them full in the face.

PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior

“What the…,” Fran exclaimed peering over Ronny’s shoulder.  She couldn’t believe her eyes as Lil Ron lay passed out on the couch amid a mess of bottles, overflowing ash trays, and was that vomit on her new carpet!

Ronny took it all in before stomping over to his son.  “Wake up boy,” he shook him roughly, “The party’s over.”

WC:  100


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#FridayFictioneers – Ready To Go

PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

Rob lifted his head above the top step and looked through the planters at his old life before laying back again in a spreading pool of blood.

Jen screamed nonstop curses from the window above as he lay there, his life leaking onto the brick.  She threw his phone.  Plastic and glass shattered inches from his head, peppering his face.

So much for calling 9-1-1, he thought closing his eyes.  It would be over soon.  Will that be so bad.  

Curses fell from above like rain along with drawers full of his clothes.

I’m ready go anyway, he thought.  So ready.

WC:  100


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#FridayFictioneers – Healing Table

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Aunt Mabel was the best healer ever.  She was constantly mixing things, whatever it was that grew in her garden on her table that wasn’t really a table at all.  It was more of stuff stacked on stuff, but it was her table and her most prized possession.

Whenever we would get a cut or scrape, she would grind away, rub her concoction on the wound, and in no time, we would be right again.

Maybe that’s why I’ve come back here at the end, looking for some of that old magic.

I fear even Aunt Mabel couldn’t help now.

WC:  100


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#FridayFictioneers – A Good Husband

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Frank was a good husband.  He loved his wife of 44 years, his family, and the time they spent together, mostly on the water.

Maude held him close, as she and her boys stepped on the boat lined dock.  Memories floated up through the waters of time, and filled her eyes with tears.

Her boys hugged her tight until they came to Frank’s Joy, where they helped her board.

Dark water lapped beneath as they dangled feet over the bow, talked of good times, and laughed until Maude pulled the top from the urn.

“Goodbye my love.”

WC:  96


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#FridayFictioneers – The Wall

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

“Is this safe?”  Todd looked at his brother who lay on the roof with the rifle.

“Sure.  There’s the wall.  It would take a ton of them to get through.  I’ve only ever seen a dozen a day.  And when I see ’em…”  Gabe squeezed the trigger.

Crack!!!  The rifle reported, Todd covered his ears, and across the wall a zombie’s skull exploded.  It took two steps before falling.

“High five little bro.”

Todd slapped his hand and pointed to the treeline.  “Gabe, the trees are moving.”

Countless zombies tumbled out of the trees.

Gabe exhaled and chambered another round.

WC:  100


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#FridayFictioneers – Trick or Treat

PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young

It was a glorious night.  Timmy had more candy than he could eat in weeks and he didn’t have to go all over the neighborhood to get it.  The little kiddies did that.  He had just had to wait.

More were on the way.  He heard them coming.  Wiping chocolate on his pants, he readied for his next take, but there were too many of them.

This isn’t the plan he thought as they stuffed him in the cage and took their candy back.  “I’ll get you next year,” he screamed as they laughed and ran away into the night.

WC:  100

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#FridayFictioneers – Some Gave All

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

It stood alone in the plaza, just outside the theater, across the street from the Cold Stone in plain view.

Many walk by turning their heads in shame, some do worse.  They don’t even know why it is there, and wouldn’t know why if they did, they never even glimpse it.

History has faded, and so when we tell them the sacrifice it represents, they are horrified.  When we say that they were the lucky ones, they scoff.

“How is it lucky to lose a limb,” they say.

And so we explain how “All Gave Some, but Some Gave All.”

WC:  100

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