This post is written for Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a compete story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less. My story follows the picture prompt below.
He had everything figured out to the smallest detail. Her bag was packed and stood by the doorway. Gas tank was full. He had made three practice drives to the hospital. The drive was anywhere from six to nine minutes depending on traffic. This would be a piece of cake. All she had to to was tell him it was time.
The expected time arrived . But as they rounded the curve they saw the stalled tractor.
“Plan B. Get out of the car and come over to my side and get ready to deliver your new baby boy,” she cried.
This post is written for Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end using the picture prompt below.
His prognosis had been a devastating blow. The concussions Ben had received during the bombing had left him without any memory. The doctors had tried just about every treatment to recover even a tiny portion of his life before the war. So far nothing had worked.
His brother had an idea. He did a goggle search and found it. Working with the museum curator they wheeled the piece of art to his bedside.
Ben’s eyes suddenly went wide. “That’s my bike!” Ben yelled.
She always stood out in the glow of the darkness that makes up your universe. She can be dangerous. You knew that the first day you met her. The way she looked back at you after your first meeting. She was a magnet for your desires. One would do well to stay clear of her you thought. But she is enchanting. Moving effortlessly across your conscious mind she cast her spell. You are frozen. He flowing soft legs will shortly wrap around your limp body. You knew from the beginning your time was limited.
Winds whipped across the frozen pond. The worst of the winter was yet to come. The journey they had all agreed to had been more difficult then they ever thought possible. Their meager food supply would only last them a few more weeks. Eric wondered if they should turn back. The group decided to stay where they were. Over the next few days nine of the original thirteen either froze or starved to death. Eric looked over his shoulder at Trevek and wondered who was stronger. The ice cracked under his snowshoes as he approached his prey.
This post is written for Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words of less.
She had been planning this “little” get together with friends for the last month. I finally got her to pare her little list down to eight people including Iris. I always liked to invite Iris to one of our party’s because she always has an opinion on every subject. And what I really like about Iris is that she has no filter on her mouth. She’s not a shy one and you better be ready to cover your ears if you are easily offended. She will be the ideal person to try your new juicy pineapple desert.
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.