Tag Archives: friday fictioneers

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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Does Santa Claus Climb Down Broken Chimneys?

abandoned

PHOTO PROMPT © Rowena Curtin

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“Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child, Holy Infant so tender and mild…”

Derek crouched by the fire barrel rubbing his hands together while Anna sang Christmas songs to her little girls.

“Another homeless fucking Christmas,” he muttered.

Old Saul backhanded him on the shoulder. “Hush and let those babies dream.”

“It’s all crap,” Derek hissed back. “There’s no blessing being homeless. Fifteen families freezing in this dump. No baby Jesus will save us.”

“You’re young yet, Derek.” Saul’s voice ground like a cement mixer. “Miracles aren’t money. Look around you. Being able to love in this hole is the miracle.”

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One Winter Evening

candles

PHOTO PROMPT © Susan Rouchard

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Soren basked in the candles’ glow as he had for so many years during this season. He neither celebrated the Hanukah lights nor the birth of the “Light of the World,” mercy forbid.

The presentation “Artwork by Candlelight” was a centuries old family tradition and he must leave soon. Explaining his presence would be awkward.

“Hello.”

He turned to the doorway. She couldn’t be more than five. “You are Daphine, the Baron’s granddaughter.”

“Who are you?”

He stared, considering a light snack, but then declined. The vampire came to honor his family’s legacy, not to dine on a distant cousin.

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The Old Shoe

shoes

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

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Alan sat in the laundry contemplating the last moments of his life. It was cold outside, and not just because of the weather.

You see things differently sitting on the floor. All these different types of footwear, all for different occasions and seasons.

They cut off his job, his finances, his friends, family, even his electric car. The people of diversity and acceptance were going to kill him because he didn’t fit in with their politics and dogma.

The door from outside opened. It was Brevoort. “Still time to join us before the end.”

Alan threw a shoe at him.

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Flowers and Rust

flower car

PHOTO PROMPT © Fleur Lind

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Things like the “flower Datsun” weren’t all that unusual, but people seemed to make a big deal over them.

“There’s worse ways to repurpose your old rig.”

He paused on his walk to regard the object. No doubt someone’s attempt at art or maybe a commentary on the environment.

“Plants are wilting and the chassis is rusting. Can’t really help the latter, but if you’re going to keep plants…”

He knocked on the door of the house belonging to the Datsun. No one answered but the hose was right there.

Jerry started spraying down the pots in the engine compartment.

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One Last Look

old city

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Mo lagged behind the tour group being escorted into Jerusalem’s Jewish Quarter. He’d been here hundreds of times over the past ten years but decided he needed to take one last look.

Decades of Islamic terrorism had escalated into war. Netanyahu finally ordered the IDF to excise Hamas from Gaza. It wouldn’t be enough. Soon even the Americans would turn against them.

He would travel back in time as Moshe ben Isaiah, the only name Shaul would understand. Moses had to save the life of the Apostle to the goyim and stop twenty centuries of Anti-Semitic hate before it began.

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Water Me

green jug

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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Ken wasn’t getting any younger or thinner, so every morning took himself out for a walk. Fall had arrived, and he enjoyed strolling in brisk weather.

Then it turned weird.

“Hey, Buddy. Stop a second.”

He was walking past the tennis court. The green watering jug marked Ken’s halfway point. He stopped walking and looked around.

“Who said that?”

“Me, the plant. Gee, you’re dense. I’ve been hanging my jug out here every day but you don’t take the hint.”

“A talking plant?

“I need a little more water before the hibernation thing kicks in. Be a pal, will you?”

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We Won!

light

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

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“The light! We won! The Violet Party won!”

The ballots had been counted throughout the night while the faithful of both parties waited patiently. Then in the pre-dawn chill, the verdict was pronounced. The Violet Party, fighting for Democracy, safety, knowledge, and love had won.

The filthy “yellows” crawled off tails-between-legs. The righteous “violets” cheered wildly in the streets.

Violet One made her expected victory announcement from the high window. “We are victorious. You may be at ease. Go to your jobs secure that we, your servants, shall make all of the difficult decisions. Your only duty is to obey.”

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Among the Living

green door

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

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Halloween, the Day of the Dead all blurred together for Eddie. It stretched from last Tuesday to early Monday morning. The deal he made was better than he expected. Sure, he died. Cancer was a relentless enemy and the reaper was always at his shoulder. But every year for a week he returned to life, free of haunting the house with the green door.

He didn’t realize how depressing life would become. Eddie died on V-J day, September 2, 1945. Right before he passed, they told him we’d won. They didn’t say how much they’d lose almost eighty years later.

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