PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
Another séance, another summoning, another mystery solved, or whatever. Robert lost count of all the spectral visitations he had performed in order to pay for his modest home in the suburbs (ridiculously overpriced).
The clients and spirits had all left half an hour ago, the candles were burnt out, and he sat back on the patio sipping a brandy. He could already feel tomorrow’s hangover.
Robert had hardly closed his eyes when a new voice disturbed him.
“The gateway to the beyond is closed,” he complained.
“Not for the Angel of Death.” Her words were ice. “This is your time.”
It’s Wednesday and once again time for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ 29 August 2025 edition of Friday Fictioneers. The idea is to use the image above as the prompt for crafting a poem or short story no more than 100 words long. My word count is exactly 100.
Promotional image for the upcoming Starry Eyed Press anthology “Second Wave.”
The photo summoned both a sense of the occult and the mundane, so I set Robert’s weekly seances on the back patio of his suburban home. Being a medium though, doesn’t make you immune to death’s icy touch and being spirited away to the beyond.
To read other tales based on the prompt, visit inlinkz.
The Starry Eyed Press anthology Drabbles: Second Wave is now available, featuring ten (the maximum allowed) stories of humans and aliens living together, each exactly 100 words long. It’s a lot of fun.
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Well… damn. At least he got a few sips in, right?
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Maybe his liver failed. Thanks, Dale.
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This is not impossible 🙂
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Probably not.
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Inventive storytelling, James.
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Thanks, Lisa.
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You’re welcome.
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A great story James 🙌
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Thank you.
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He won’t be scamming any more clients. Who knew it was real?
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Actually, he wasn’t scamming anyone. He really could contact the spirit world, but he’d been doing it for so long, it had become tedious and boring. Now he’s a permanent residence of the other side.
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Well, that was unexpected!
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He never saw it coming, Nancy. Thanks.
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Very good. I like how his connection to the ‘beyond’ crept up on him. No more sham seances for him.
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As I explained to Neil, it wasn’t so much that he was a scammer, but that he’d become jaded to the experience.
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Gave me the creeps.
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Thanks.
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Dear James,
I guess he doesn’t have to worry about tomorrow’s hangover.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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No, that much is true. Thanks.
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Guess he forgot that doors open both ways. Still, with his years of experience he should be able to pop back whenever he wants to. Chilling, though.
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Maybe, though who knows? Thanks, Sandra.
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I bet that sobered him up!
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Like the proverbial Priest on Sunday.
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Great ending. I did not see it coming, but neither did he. I suppose that is the way. Creative story, James!
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Thanks, Brenda.
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Awkward!! That’s a visitor he didn’t want or need.
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And one we will all receive someday. Thanks.
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What a clever ending, completely turns the story around. He was and did the real thing.
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Indeed. Thanks.
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Oh snap!
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