This post is in response to Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end using the picture prompt below.
Sometimes you need a new perspective on your life. Every day you go about your daily activities with little thought of how things change around you. Or do they? If you take a selfie (Oxford Dictionaries chose that word as its Word of the Year in 2013) today and stood in the same place a year from now, how much would change. Same pictures on the wall? Your favorite recliner? The super soft blanket that even Linus from Peanuts would envy?
Would you even be here in a year to take the picture. Yes? No?
This post is written for 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.
“Sorry for your loss.” He hates that statement. They don’t understand the world he now faces without her. She was always the one that was there for you when you needed her. Where were you when she needed you in her last months? She was always growing, expanding her energies for all the things she held close to her heart. He garden was her escape. A place to escape her crazy world.
She left specific instructions of how she wanted to be remembered. Fine to think she can go on being socially useful even after she’s dead. Making plants grow.
It was late afternoon Monday June 8, 1953. As we drive to my grandmother’s I remember seeing a refrigerator in a tree. For an seven year old that didn’t make sense. Her street of old two story homes was now what looked like a messy lumber yard.
There were a few people, some walking, some sitting on the ground, with a daze look in their eyes, rummaging among their damaged possessions looking like the walking dead. The amazing thing was that there was total silence. There was no wind. It was a time when the world stood STILL.
Enjoy your retirement. Those were his thoughts driving to his new “number one rated” over 55 community. After twenty-eight years working in a big city he looked forward to a little peace and comfort.
Turning on the car radio he heard the announcer matter of fact deliver the “breaking news” (wasn’t everything nowadays breaking news?)…”a gunman opened fire on students and staff at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, killing 17 people and injuring 17 others.” Looking up he noticed the highway sign said “Welcome to Florida”.
This post is written for Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a story using 100 words or less that has a beginning, middle and end using the picture prompt below.
We were in the heart of a long abandoned area of the park. The greenness of the area hid the desperation of the inhabitants below. Come nightfall the squatters would come back from their days journey in hell. Dirty backpacks, trash bags containing refundable containers, broken grocery carts filled with their worldly possessions. The daily migration never ended. Each day a few crazed zombies added to the population. The poorest of the poor lived right here, underneath the walking path. Some people who had lost their self-respect called this place home.
This post is in response to Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less using the picture prompt below.
I met Sara at the last meeting. I liked her sad story. She is homeless and sleeps on the grassy area under the highway overpass. We mumble “thanks for sharing” and let our minds wander back to our own pathetic world.
When my turn comes I rattle on about my recent good fortune. Faces turn as I describe my new digs. Suddenly Sara shouts that she is tired of sleeping on the streets and asks if I need a roommate. I give her my address.
This post is written for Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a short story, 100 words or less, with a beginning, middle and end using the picture prompt provided. My story follows that picture prompt below.
Living far from her parents was rough enough in normal times. And this definitely was not close to normal. She regretted now, more than ever before, leaving home. Leaving them so depended on others.
He did not even get the opportunity to see his latest grandchild. Even her mother was not able to be at his bedside when he died. Only the nurse. A nurse who nothing about the wonderful person that lay before her suffering his last suffocating painful breaths.
She received the dreaded last night at 3 a.m.
“Send me something to remember him,” she asked the nurse.
This story is written for Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less using the picture prompt below. My story follows the picture prompt.
His mind wandered in and out of the real world. His twenty eight years working on Amtrak trains occupied his decaying mind at the moment. He had a nightmare that would not go away.
He had to throw a switch.
The switch that would allow his train to enter the siding and allow the Amtrak California Zephyr to pass on the main line on its way to its final destination in Emeryville. He didn’t realize how much the heavy snow would slow him down.
The headline in the San Francisco Examiner read: “Brakeman only survivor in Amtrak train disaster.”
The big event was in full swing and everyone was having a wonderful time. Stories were being shared. Friends they had know for the last fifty years and longer were there to help celebrate their fifty years of marriage.
They had their ups and downs but what couple doesn’t who stays together that long. In fact their marriage has lasted longer than their children’s marriages.
“What’s the secret to a long marriage”, asked his best friend David. “Those famous three words.?”
He smiled to himself. “They have changed a little but the thought is still the same.”