Friday Fictioneers — He’s Crazy

Copyright-John Nixon

This post is in response to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers prompt.

His mind was all knotted. The synapses of his brain were truncated. What used to be a free-flowing stream of information, ideas, thoughts, feelings, were being hampered by something the doctors could not diagnose. There was a break between branches of the tree of his mind.

He looked at his wife and did not recognize her. Wait, wait, yes he does. Or did. He sees things but can’t act. She calls him by a strange name. How weird he thinks. And then in a nano of a second he just snapped. He did love her, whoever she was.

 

 

Friday Fictioneers

These 100 words are my entry to the weekly Friday Fictioneers Challenge.

Copyright -Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Then, suddenly, the move went wrong. Paul  had planned the murder with meticulous care. He had set up a “meet” with his main drug cartel rival on the fifth floor of an abandoned building.  The meet was to divide up the city into two separate regions. As his rival and  bodyguard arrived two more of Paul’s gang appeared and using their automatic weapons shot them dead. Now the whole city drug trade was his. Trying to hasten their getaway he decided to use the old elevator instead of the stairs. Halfway down to freedom the elevator came to a screeching halt.

The Long Walk

These 101 words form my submission to Friday Fictioneers.

AdamIckes-boardwalk

She had forgotten her name, but not her feelings. She was feeling sad. They had been mean to her, that she could remember. There had been more than one and they passed her around like a jug of wine each taking a sip. She remembered the hard concrete as her head hit it. They told her that her father would pick her up at the end of the dock. As she looked down the wooden walk she realized it would take all of her will power to reach the end. Then she realized her father passed away five years ago.

Friday Fictioneers

The Friday Fictioneers Challenge can be found here (FF).

Copyright -Sandra Crook

As a young boy  I liked to help my grandfather bale the straw, load it on his tractor  and then drive that old tractor to the outskirts of town and sell to the local crop dealer. He taught me to drive that old Ford tractor before I could drive a car. Some days we had to wait in line before we could unload our tractor. While he waited in line I went inside to  spend some  time  with the other boys my age.  I was having a ball.

But one day,  while waiting,  he accidentally left me there by myself.

Word count = 100

The Bell Lap

This story is written for Friday Fictioneers.

Copyright - David Stewart

born to poverty, living with fear and crime

left the dirty city with nothing and expected the same and not to do time

he bought this farm with his very last nickel

working day and night with some old hammer and sickle

young and fearless, some say reckless, he married his true love and had five children

determined with all his might not to be a lowly pilgrim

where will it all stop he often wondered

 one thing he knew he didn’t  want to live  to be a hundred

his lined face and worn frame indicated the ringing of his bell lap

Highball and Seven Murders

Once again it’s time for Friday Fictioneers with our host Rochelle giving the challenge.

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going a few words over the count.)

Copyright - Janet Webb

“Women just want to have fun, right,” said Melinda to her BFF Jill.

“Yup, let the boys attend to business,” Jill replied.

Suddenly Jill’s German Shepherd, Highball, who was leashed to a truck outside began howling and barking. Rushing into the street they saw a red Cadillac pull to a stop in front of the garage next door. Four men, two dressed in police uniforms with machine guns drawn, emerged and walked inside. The sounds of the machine guns firing was unmistakable. The Cadillac sped away.  Later, the bodies of seven men were found ripped apart.

Friday Fictioneers — On Strike

This post was written for the Friday Fictioneers based on the prompt below.

Copyright -Claire Fuller

Copyright -Claire Fuller

“Your father is in there Tony. They are on strike against the company. The local diner across the street is providing their meals free of charge. And they have elected their own mayor and police to maintain order. Any person who breaks the rules will be given a trial and punishments ranging  from washing dishes to being expelled from the plant. Just like a little city. Look, see the man with the busy eyebrows? He’s the company’s leader. He’s meeting with your father now.”

up against the man

down for right now but not out

brighter tomorrow

Word count 99