#FridayFictioneers – That’s My Jam!

PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

Scott strutted around the kitchen, head swinging to and fro, red curls swaying in time to the music. “Oh yeah, that’s it,” he declared, throwing out something between a Michael Jackson thrust and a Travolta finger pointing thing.

The toaster popped, and he set to slathering the perfectly browned bread with jelly found in the fridge. His backside kept the beat. Finished, he licked the knife clean and popped it back into the jar.

“Hey, that’s my jam!” came a distressed cry from the kitchen doorway.

“Yeah man. Turn it up!”

“No you idiot, that’s my jam.”

“Oh. It’s delicious.”


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#FridayFictioneers – Bad Business

PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria
PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria

Jack sipped his namesake, then turned up the cheap hotel glassware, draining the contents in a gulp before resting the glass atop his tupperware.

He chuckled at the little stack of plastic bowls. He had meal prepped for this trip with all the good intentions of a habitual dieter. Then the business went bad, and the diet with it. The healthy habits landed in the trash can, while he landed in all the local dives eating slop and drinking worse.

He poured another drink as he packed. There’s always next week, he thought. I’ll do better then.

WC: 97


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#FridayFictioneers – Rose’s Doll

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

Rose pressed in the last bit of stuffing, stitched the final seam, and began to focus on the details.

Cute buttons for eyes, black thread stitched just right for mouth and nose, and most important, the hair.  Long, luxurious curls of black that tumbled from head to waste completed the work.

Everything was just right.  Perfect.

She lay the doll atop a pillow and turned her full attention to the pin cushion.  She selected a long silver prick with delicate fingers, and pressed it through the doll’s chest and into the pillow below.

Somewhere, miles away, a young woman screamed.

WC: 100

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#FridayFictioneers - Huff & Puff

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

“Wow, he really meant it,” Stinky squealed.

“Sure did. Got inside just in time too,” Pinkey said peeking out the window. “Hate to think what would have happened…” She shook her head.

Gray stepped out amid the destruction unafraid, spotting the wolf laid by the street recovering from all the huffing and puffing. “Yep, you’d think they’d learn after all these years. This old brick held up for my Great Grandhog, and it’s still strong as anything.” He patted an appreciative hoof on the brick and squealed laughter.

“One day little piggies,” croaked the wolf. “I’ll get you one day.”

WC: 100


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#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 – 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 – Retirement

Copyright –Douglas M. MacIlroy

So this is retirement, Frank thought., his tools scattered before him.

He had dreamed of retirement for years and all the things that he would no longer have to do once that time came.  Banish early mornings and the workday for starters.  Retirement meant relaxing, or so he thought.  But here he was, up since the crack of dawn, working on this… thing.  And when this is done, there’ll be another thing waiting.

Who knew honey-do lists grew at the speed of light?

“I’ll never catch up,” he grumbled.  “I’ll have to go back to work to rest from retirement.”


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