Archive for the ‘Friday Fictioneers’ Category
Photo Credit —–Douglas M. MacIlroy
Every Wednesday he sat here and pondered the image on his computer screen. He was not alone in this obsession. People from all over the world made an appearance here.
They all worshipped this divinity. The ONE that provided their inspiration was in session in HER domain.
Their stories were different. Faced with the same problem they came to difference interpretations. Was it a craftsman at his work station? A recluse with plans to take over the world? Why the tattered globe? What were those pliers used for?
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PHOTO PROMPT © Dawn M. Miller
“It was your father’s only way to feed us. Coal was king in this part of Kentucky. We didn’t care about no black lung disease. Lord knows we never heard the words “climate change” and won’t make no difference if we did.”
“When he entered that mine shaft he had no idea it would be his last day on earth. Not only his last day but the last day for 37 other miners.”
“But I tell you one thing boy about your father. I knows you had differences with him but he would be proud that you became an environmental engineer.”
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PHOTO PROMPT © Nick Allen
His grandfather was called the “King” of the sport.
He spent his youth racing cars in western North Carolina. He was expected to win. And he did; becoming the youngest driver to win the National Championship.
Everyone kept telling him he should retire. He was getting too old and his reflexes were slowing down. He wanted one more win. He would win the championship if he won this last race.
On the last lap over his headset he heard his crew chief say “Watch out for oil in turn four.” They were the last words he would ever hear.
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PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
“Yes child, I remember.”
Her horrible memories return nightly. The long lines with whole families lined up together with all their belongins. As she got closer to the end of the line she could see the soldier asking questions and then pointing either right or left. Sometimes the families were split up with the mothers and daughters directed to go one way and the father and sons going another.
Suddenly she realized they were the ones being questioned. Her husband and son were quickly shoved to the right.
“My daughter and I were the lucky ones. We got the water.”
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This post submitted to Friday Fictioneers.
“The illegals live there, officer.” The homeless man motioned ahead.
Here on the southwest edge of the city it was quite dirty and the area under the bridge oozed with feces and muddy water mixed with trash. The people were huddled together in a sprawling mass that covered the entire area shaded by the overhead bridge.
“Stinks like hell,” the border agent said.
“Just the beginning from what I hear. They say many more of their kind are on there way. Fleeing from gang violence and poverty. Can’t say that I blame them. Welcome to my world Amigos.”
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This post is written for Friday Fictioneers.
PHOTO PROMPT © J.S. Brand
His carving could wait. Irving was late for service. Entering the parking lot he heard gunshots.
Rushing into the building he saw David and Cecil face down inside the entrance. The brothers were always first to meet worshipers when they arrived. Twenty feet in front of the brothers was Rosie. “Rosie, Rosie, 97 years young sure to make 101” was the familiar chant that we sang to her. This can’t be happening. To his right were Bernice and Sylvan. They were married in this same synagogue 60 years ago.
Another shot rang out. Irvin never heard it.
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The following short story is written for Friday Fictioneers.
PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
Don’t be afraid. Your not going to be the first for goodness sakes. Thousands of people have survived and lived to tell about it.
I wait until no one is at the desk. The light from the ceiling seems to form a spotlight directly on me. It follows me as I approach the grand circular counter. All the horrors of a Steven King novel come rushing into my mind. I know somewhere behind lies that crazy clown from the movie “It”.
I focus all my energy and utter my request. “I would like to apply for a library card please.”
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