Fugue State

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PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

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He didn’t remember how he got here. It was some sort of posh restaurant. He was alone, although there were two menus on the table. An unknown appetizer was sitting in front of him looking particularly vile.

The taste of his soft drink made him want to vomit. He tried to act calm, then realized not only did he not know where he was, he didn’t know who he was.

He started to get up when a fairly attractive young woman approached.

“Hello. I’m Joy, your server. Welcome to your first day at cognitive depression treatment clinic. Shall we begin?”

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The Fallen

beit shan

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Mastema watched Tancred’s ascension as Prince of Galilee over Beit She’an with hidden glee. This ancient city of the Hebrews had passed through many hands before falling into those of the Crusaders in the year of their Lord 1099 C.E.

It was well that Tancred did not know the true name or origins of his faithful adviser, because Mastema had his own reasons for coveting the city in the Jezreel Valley. He divined that men in ages to come would find sacred and mystic Egyptian artifacts. There was one he must take that would render him master of the dead.

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Strings

amanda

PHOTO PROMPT © Amanda Forestwood

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14-year-old Stace McPherson was drawn to the musician’s unusual stringed instrument. The backyard wedding reception was over. He was supposed to be helping clean but he wanted to touch it. The musician, no one called him anything else, had played the most amazing tunes, like from another world. He looked around. Just the last few guests. The musician was saying good-bye to the bride and groom. He had to do it. Stace let his fingers glide across the strings. As he did, something creative entered him. Ten years later with his own guitar, he accepted the best new artist Grammy.

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Hell’s Harlequin

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PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

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“There must be some kind of way out of here, said the joker to the thief.”

Jester pretended to play a game on her cell’s frayed bedsheets with a worn deck of cards. The old Dylan tune running through her head seemed too cliché, even for her. She didn’t know how to play solitaire, but it mollified the guards while she planned her escape.

The thief was out there, the one who sent her to Hell. But Persephone hadn’t helped Jester escape Hades’ clutches just to be jailed for shoplifting food she again needed to eat. She would find him.

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Hunter

rose bay

PHOTO PROMPT © Rowena Curtin

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Rose Bay was one of those posh Sydney suburbs great for tourist shopping and loaded with outdoor activities. It had golf courses, tennis courts, and of course, the beach. Walking down the narrow alley splashed with color, Demetrius Lauer was not entertained. This was the way he went. Unless Dem could surprise his prey, it would get messy.

Despite Aus’ gun laws, he’d managed to buy a Colt 1911M from a “collector” he knew. Ethan Keating was a dangerous serial killer and fugitive wanted in five countries. The bounty on him was dead or alive. Dem didn’t care which.

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Grandma’s Birthday Party

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© Jennifer Pendergast

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The table had been set with elegance but was overwhelmed by the rather bizarre lighting appliance hanging from the ceiling.

“Do you really think Grandma will like it?” Karla’s voice carried her doubt.

“You know how the old girl adored the Avant Garde.” Cornelius had been the favored grandchild, so he had made all the arrangements.

“Mom, Dad, and the rest of the family will be arriving soon. Grandma aside, I don’t think they will like it at all.”

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My Personal Ecclesiastes

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© Miles Rost

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There is no me. There’s just doing the laundry, paying the rent, riding the bus, going to work, going to school. You know. Nothing that’s important. So here I am feeding coins into the washers and dryers at the laundromat, trying to read a book and realizing that I don’t enjoy it. In fact, I don’t enjoy anything. Not a damn thing. I eat good food. I mean, I live in San Francisco, so there’s a lot of good food. But so what? I’ve considered suicide for a long time. I walk out of the building and into traffic.

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Take Me Out to the Ball Game

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© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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A ball game’s a ball game even at “The K” in Kansas City.

Jeff scored a hot dog and watered-down beer and relaxed back into his seat. The Royals were playing against the Texas Rangers but that didn’t matter much to him. It was kind of strange to be watching baseball in February, but it was in the low 50s, so he thought a light jacket would do.

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Specter

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© Lisa Fox

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The building was old enough to have a fire escape. It was perfect. Now that Brian’s divorce was final, he was free to move back to the heart of old downtown and be nurtured by urban variations. He was so close to finishing that best seller he had always wanted to write. The sum he would be offered for the film rights alone would throw his ex into a spasm. He sat at the keyboard and tried to put his fingers to work. Nothing happened. A mist slowly seeped through the walls. The alluring ghost said, “Perhaps I can help.”

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Feelin’ Groovy

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© Roger Bultot

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Used to be called the 59th Street Bridge but that was long ago. Now they call it the Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge, whoever he was. At least one thing didn’t change. Like in the old days, someone painted a heart on this bench. It’s nice to see.

I’ve been walking up and down the Eternity Road a long time, but not seventy years’ worth. Sure I’m almost seventy myself, but how long…since I was forty-five or so? All my friends are dead, but if I go back, I’ll be so old to them. Being a time traveler is a pain.

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