Friday Fictioneers — Carla Is Sold


Copyright - Björn Rudberg

Copyright – Björn Rudberg

Dementrio viewed the men as they approached his little shack. Both were wearing  bandoliers. He knew the time had come. “Bring Carla to me,” he calmly directed his wife.

As the two bandits approached, his son Fausto clutched his ragged pant legs and asked his father, “Why Carla father?” Dementrio could not tell his son theirs crops of bananas and sugarcane had failed to produce any money this year. “The men bring money so we may survive. For that we give them your little sister. Her life will be better. You are lucky Fausto as they only want girls.”

These 98 words constitute my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.

I Have a Tingling I Can’t Explain!

“I have a tingling I can’t explain. Would you please help me? You’ll know it when you find it.”

No silly, not there, it’s something about my feet. Pick me up and look at the right foot.”

“Nothing there my dear,” he replied.

“Put me down then. Now pick me up and look at the left foot.”

“Sorry my dear, but nothing there.”

“Well then put me down again.”

“Ha, I see what is wrong with your feet my dear. They don’t touch the ground!”

Charlie Corporate

This is my first post for the first Haibun Thinking – a new Haibun Writing Challenge. The prompt I chose was:

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
– Ferris Bueller’s Day Off


His rise through the ladders of work left him breathless.

Time out for marriage that was for sure.

There were kids his wife assured.

No one mentioned this unfairness.


One more time he had to check this corporate allure.

Corporate Gods before all.

Up, up towards that impossible goal for sure.

With all this some say he had a lot of gall.


Once there, everything had been left behind.

But no one was there to see him now.

He thought he was a gift to mankind.

But in the end he wasn’t even the cats meow.

a rose for my love

i wish i could play again

one more chance to smell

Trifecta Week 110 — Quaint

My Old School

My Old School

This is my old school.

First grade on the left, second grade in the middle,  third grade on the right made it pretty cool.

Some say it’s old and quaint.

I say all it needs is a coat of red paint.


These 42 words, based on the third definition of the word ’quaint‘ , constitute my entry into the Trifecta 110 writing challenge

CARPE DIEM “Little Ones”

In this weeks Carpe Diem Haiku Kai Special challenge “Little Ones” we are asked to create an American Sentence. Created by Allen Ginsberg to make an “American” form of haiku, the sentence follows the same syllable count as a traditional haiku: 17. Written left to right vs vertically.

Inquisitive face, wagging tail, pleading their case, wishing beyond hope.

Picture It & Write

In response to Ermilia

face in a mop

I have come in peace. Take me to your Lizard!  The wet mops and the dry mops have united into one Global unit call MOPS (Mops On Prescription Steroids). My name is Matt Steward (I think, or was that my father)  the original inventor of the mop. That was before the great schism that split our brethren into the wet and dry factions. That led to a “wet” or “dry” mop civil war. The two mop factions were engaged into a great civil war, determining which mop, the drys or the wets , were best suited to rule the mop world. Many wet mop families have seen their sons fight for the dry mops. They have seen their sons and daughters discarded and left for dead after just a few years of service. It is hard for an old mop to see his children used, abused and throw away by a society that does not recognize their true value. But now we are MOPS and we will rule the world!

The union of the wet and dry mops will cease to become a trusted  fixture for your homes and businesses. The MOPS (our new name capitalized for emphasis) will now rule your homes and places of work. You, old humans of the world, will now be our followers and follow directions from MOPS.  Some of these directions include, but not limited to:

  • No more Dumb Blond mop jokes
  • No more jokes about how many mops does it take to screw in a light bulb.
  • No more jokes that start with ‘a mop walks into a bar’ jokes
  • You are forbidden to use the word mop  heads!

Mop up your too many pathetic tears and obey our commands or we will mop you up!

MOPS rules!!!!!!!!!!

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Five Sentence Fiction — Jack


Lillie McFerrin Writes


American Sentence

I was lonely, a nerd, a recluse, never fitting in, pimple faced little runt and needing someone, really anyone to understand me.

We were friends from high school, where we were first introduced.

He was a good friend that would always cut you some slack.

Being with him was like being seduced.

In conclusion please let me introduce you to my very good friend Jack.