“Oh my,” exclaimed Lara. “This is ghastly. Ruins the decor.”
Jacob winced. “You don’t understand,” he whispered.
“Understand? What is Franco thinking?”
Franco cringed. A haughty voice carried across the hall. He started in that direction.
“Keep it down.” Jacob scanned the room, noting every attendee. “Please don’t let Franco hear.”
“Please. Surely Franco fires the decorator.”
“You don’t understand, those shoes…”
“Those shoes,” Franco cut in, “made this possible. They walked to school for years. Secured my education.”
Lara turned horrified. “I didn’t know.”
“You came from money. But money can be taken. What those shoes brought me, cannot.”
WC: 100 Continue reading “#FridayFictioneers – What Cannot Be Taken”
Lon tripped, flew through the air, and skid to a halt, asphalt tore into palms, elbows, and knees.
Pushing himself painfully to his feet, he raised his eyes to the massive structure dominating the night sky. The Tower. Too late he realized as the Tower began to glow.
Once charged, his world would be gone. Blasted to dust. So many lives lost. Just like that, and there was nothing to do. Too late to save his world. Not too late to make them pay.
Blood streaked his arms, tears his cheeks as he ran to the Tower.
They will pay.
WC: 100 Continue reading “#FridayFictioneers – They Will Pay”
“Go,” Johnny coughed. “Water.”
Michelle limped the path to the stream and collected a tall cool jar of water.
She was a good wife. Had always been. Never complained.
Back up the path, careful not to spill a drop, she returned. “Here, fresh from the stream.”
Johnny snatched the jar away and drank greedily, spilling water around the corners of his mouth. He slammed the empty jar down. “More!”
“Be right back.”
Grumbling how dumb she was not to bring more in a trip, he watched her leave.
Michelle disagreed. She didn’t want to poison any more water than necessary.
Continue reading “#FridayFictioneers – A Cool Drink of Water”
“Woe! Dude, did you see that?” Cindy looked wild eyed into the sky, lost her footing and fell into a pile of straw.
“What?” Scott asked in a thick voice. He looked around halfheartedly through squinted bloodshot eyes. Shading the sun with one hand, he looked, not knowing what he was supposed to be looking for.
“You see it?”
“The flying saucer dude.”
“Oh! You’re hallucinating again.” Scott plopped down in the straw next to Cindy. “But since we’re both in the straw.”
Cindy pushed him away. Another saucer zoomed past. She screamed, and bolted into the woods.
Continue reading “#FridayFictioneers – Flying Saucers, Dude”
Mr. Jowers sucked in a sharp breath as Jenny’s eyes lit up. Just his luck that she “loved” the most expensive place.
“It’s perfect Daddy!” She exclaimed pointing. “Band there, cake there, …and this dance floor!” She twirled with all the grace of the ballerina she was.
“Yes, it’s nice. But the last place was nice too.”
“That place,” Jenny said crinkling her nose, “was horrendous.”
“B-but the columns.”
“Oh, Daddy, columns are so two years ago.”
With visions of the perfect wedding in her head, she left Mr. Jowers and a smiling hotel manager.
Daddy reached for his checkbook.
#FridayFictioneers is a weekly blog link up hosted by Rochelle over at RochelleWisoff.com. You should check out her sight and perhaps try your hand at writing a 100 word story.
“Pull over Butch. This is the spot,” Ray said ignoring his passenger.
Brakes squealed over the low engine hum and gravel crunch as the long black sedan pulled to a stop.
Ray pushed open his door and stepped out. “Let’s go,” he said looking over his shoulder. “You wanted to talk? Well, now’s your chance.”
Sly opened his own door and slunk over to the table beneath the great oak. He didn’t know how many were buried here, just that it was a lot.
“It wasn’t my fault, Boss.”
“I know,” Ray said. “It’s Nobody’s fault. It always is.”
Continue reading “#FridayFictioneers – Nobody’s Fault”
Brittle brown winter grass crunched beneath the Captain’s booted feet as he stepped from the cruiser and cast a skeptical eye over the scene.
“Sir,” a young man called from down the incline .
The captain cut in. “Why detective, am I in the middle of nowhere?”
“It’s Sarah. She’s gone.”
“Oh come on. She does this sort of thing.”
“Not like this. She would never leave her camera,” he replied exasperated. “And besides that, the photos.”
“Photos?” the captain questioned. “Was she Squatching again?”
The detective slowly shook his head. “Yeah, and she may have had some luck this time.”
Continue reading “#FridayFictioneers – Squatching”