A Slight Delay

This post is written for Friday Fictioneers. 

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PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Dear Ginger:

Sorry my love but I be slightly delayed for our marriage ceremonies. Weather here is dreadful. Not sure when the next flight to Detroit is but you can bet I will be on it. Thanks again for allowing me some time to get myself together. I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to commit to a lifetime together.

Wait! They are announcing my flight. Wonderful news!

Heading toward the gate I hear my salvation. “Announcing the boarding of flight 656 non-stop to London will begin in five minutes.”

 

 

Closes at Midnight

This short story is written for Sunday Photo Fiction.

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Photo Credit: Terri Smeigh

He knew the restaurant closed at midnight. It said so on the sign on the front door. He knew that for a fact because he had spent the last two nights across the street observing that even if there were no customers the place closed promptly at midnight.

Tonight would be a busy night. There should be plenty of cash on hand. He knew they did not have a safe because he used to work there. Once he entered the place he knew he would not have much time to accomplish his mission.

He waited until tonight because he knew Karl would be closing the place.  Karl his previous manager. Karl who had fired him. Karl the prick. Karl needed to die. It was payback time. Karl would not make the next opening of the store. He hoped there would be no collateral damage.

Look out Karl he said to himself as he waited patiently in the parking lot as the sun went down. It would be worth the wait. Thoughts of how Karl would die drifted through his mind as he fell as he into a deep sleep.

Suddenly there was a knock on his car door.

The Last Lap

This post is written for Friday Fictioneers.

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PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Light was fading fast outside when the terrible thing happened.

“How long was he in the water before you found him.”

“Not more than 15 minutes inspector” answered Erick. “I saw him on my last round.

“No witnesses I assume?”

“He always swam late at night and always alone. Except last night.”

“Except last night Erick? Who was with him last night.”

“It was a lady. There were lots of laughs and horseplay. Then I heard angry shouts and then silence.”

“Erick, do you think he was having an argument with his wife.”

“Inspector, I know one thing. It wasn’t his wife.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waiting For The End

This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers.

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PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

It was a cold March day. Patches of snow still remained from the harsh winter. That was nothing new here in the desolate southwest desert. Living conditions were hostile for plant and animal life. The lack of vegetation had exposed the the ground to extreme denudation.

Dirk had made this his home for the past three years. Existing on trash thrown from passing vehicles on the nearby highway or occasional forays four miles away at the interstate exit where the giant green dumpsters were like dining at five star restaurants for him. The end was near and he knew it.

 

 

 

The Water Can Kill You

This post is submitted to Sunday Photo Fiction.

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Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

It was four years ago this month that the horror began. She began to smell a foul odor when she turned the water on in her dirty apartment on Flint’s east side. Her two small children began to show red rashes on their faces.

In September city officials warned her to begin boiling water before using it. E-coli and coliform bacteria were found in the city’s water supply. Those were new words to Rhonda. They soon became part of her daily vocabulary.

In October, the city’s largest employer, General Motors, stopped using Flint’s water because it corroded engine parts. At times Rhonda thought the state was more concerned about GM’s water than they were for the residents of the city.

By January 2015, residents were being told that the water contained high levels of byproducts from water-disinfectant chemicals—chemicals known to cause kidney, liver and nervous system damage.

Today Rhonda sometimes waits for four hours to get two free cases of water at a time. But mostly she buys water — five cases on Monday, five more cases on Thursday — so she and her kids can cook and bathe and brush their teeth like any other ­American family.

 

Guten Morgen

This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers. 

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PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

German class started at 8 a.m. I hated it! The old building seemed an appropriate place to learn this old European guttural language. Even the architecture suggested a dark and troubled time.

It took two years of German classes to receive my degree.  It was that or take the equivalent number of hours in mathematics. My instructor for the entire two years was Herr Blumenthal. He stood an unimpressive five foot one, always smoked a pipe, and wore had the same tweed jacket for the entire two years.

My days started with the same words “Guten Morgen Herr James!”


					

A Naughty Dog

This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers. 

The challenge is to write a complete story with a beginning, middle, and end in 100 words or less. My story follows the picture prompt below. Other stories can be read by clicking HERE.

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PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

I know my my time is coming to an end. I can hear him shouting in the distance. Once I escaped I kept quiet as I ran through the tall grass enjoying my first taste of freedom. But nightfall is going to be my downfall. I’ve never been outside after the sun has set. I see the headlights of his car closing in on me. I am ready to return. There he is! I know I have caused a great deal of trouble.

He should have thought about that when he took my leash off.