Tag Archives: friday fictioneers

Of Stuff and Muses

fleur

PHOTO PROMPT © Fleur Lind

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“Well, write something about it,” Muse demanded. In such an ordinary setting, her ephemeral existence, blond hair flowing as water-like as her sheer gown, she was so out of place.

I answered in dismay, “Write what? It’s just someone’s family room. I have no idea what the image on the TV screen is supposed to mean except in the literal sense.”

“Hurry up, James. You do this every week. I have a 10 o’clock with another client.”

“It reminds me of…” I looked around my home office. “Everyone keeps stuff no one else understands.”

She vanished in an impatient puff.

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Baffel’s Last Day

wagon

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

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Baffel cautiously walked toward the now antique Conestoga wagon as if it might vanish. He perfectly remembered the wagon train’s journey along the Oregon Trail in 1824.

The families had suffered such hardships. He did the best he could, but he was there to observe and encourage, not to change things.

Nearly a third died of disease and regrettably the hostility of the others whose land upon which they were encroaching. He was ordered not to change that either.

Today, his span was at an end. After 200 years, mankind would have to find their path without the alien android.

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One Pale Blue Dot on Ice, Please

freezing

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

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Another Valentine’s Day alone. Cassandra considered turning the heat up in her small apartment but her rental agreement said she paid for heating and cooling. She pulled the blanket higher around her while watching TV. The big news was that Voyager 1 had sent back what would be the “Pale Blue Dot” photo of Earth.

“Whoopie.” She tucked her freezing feet under her butt. It was no use. The streets were paved with ice so she wasn’t going out. “Screw it.” Cass got up and opened the chest. “Now where did I put those global warming potions?” thought the witch.

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Counting Down From Seven

boardwalk

PHOTO PROMPT © Peter Abbey

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How did I get to be so old? No, don’t answer that. Maybe I’ll just sit on a bench here on the pier. That’s better. Only us retirees out on a Wednesday. What time is it? Says nearly 9:15 a.m. on this funky handheld the alien gave me.

Well, he said he was an alien. Looked human to me when he accosted me in the Safeway parking lot last week. Countdown says seven minutes as of now. I wonder if I should have warned someone like he said? Too late now. Asteroid’s going to hit dead center of this pier.

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The Word

room

PHOTO PROMPT © Susan Rouchard

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Griffith had been searching for the last syllable, the last few letters of The Word for twenty centuries. It was rather anti-climactic that he should find it on a cheap bookshelf in this hovel.

He ran a grateful finger over the binding of the black tome on the lower shelf. The spine contained a letter only he could read. Once he assembled The Word and spoke it, a peace beyond all understanding would encompass the globe.

A sound from the doorway. “You have led Legion on a merry chase, Griffith. Or is it that we let you bring us here?”

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Dinnertime

farm

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Sam grasped the fence post as nausea doubled him over. The throb on this right side spread around to his back. He wondered just how long seventy years of debauchery would take to kill him.

“Can’t be.” He tried to shake off his headache and clear his vision. “It is. But it can’t be. They’ve been dead for over 50 years. The old farm was sold at auction. It’s a damned subdivision now.”

Grandma stepped out of the barn and waved at him. “Sammy. Dinner’s about ready. Come on home.”

The twelve-year old boy scrambled down the path toward Heaven.

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Haunting Ice

ice

PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

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Twelve-year-old Isabella used to resent having to spend two-weeks in January in Dad’s frozen cabin in the middle of nowhere. Two solid weeks of cold, gray suck.

She was in the mud room getting ready to go outside so Dad and step-mom could “try to make her a baby sibling.”

“Disgusting.”

She grabbed her skates. She would never use them again after she almost fell through the ice. Billy saved her just in time. Since then, she went to the pond to talk with Billy every day. He’d fallen through when he was her age. Now he’s the pond’s ghost.

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Not a Good Place to Die

susan

PHOTO PROMPT © Susan Rouchard

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I’ve been looking for a good place to die but this isn’t it. Just some French town, another bunch of tourists, and pigeons shitting all over the street.

At least it’s warmer here than the last place I showed up. I don’t have a lot of control over what part of the planet I land or how long I stay. Sometimes nothing happens, and sometimes there’s an adventure or whatever you want to call it.

But I’m tired of the world and I want a final resting place. This isn’t it, so I guess I’ll stop by the macaron shop.

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Night Justice

muddy waters

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

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They dragged her into the dank forest, foul water and mud clinging to her.

“You still believe that advocating for genocide is a matter of context?”

“There’s a difference between allowing hateful speech and advocating for the act of genocide.” She remained smug even as a prisoner.

He sneered. “There is no redemption for you. For the rest of your life, each night there is only the dream. Step beyond those trees. Tonight, you are Jüdin. The next, Nazi. Go.”

The woman slogged through the mud trembling with cold. There was a clearing beyond the trees and a sign. Auschwitz.

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The Times They Are A-Changin’

the ball

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Trevor shivered in the cold wind as he made his way up W 45th street toward Times Square.

It had worked. Bobby Kennedy had originally supported his brother’s plan to bomb the Cuban missile sites. Fortunately, Trevor Ross was a historian and a time traveler. He blackmailed Bobby the same way Hoover had. Then something went wrong.

Yes, Kennedy had his secret meetings with the Soviet ambassador. However, what happened between them not only averted 1962’s Cuban missile crisis, but had changed everything when Trevor returned to 1980. How had New York City become the capitol of a Communist America?

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