It Was A Dark and Stormy Night


This post is written for Sunday Photo Fiction. My story follows the picture prompt. For other stories, far better than mine, just click on the link at the end of this post. Enjoy!



“Come on Jimmy, it’s only a bookstore.”

“Dr. Adler, I know you are trying to help  me but this scares the devil out of me.”

“Just follow me into the store and we will start out just reading a sentence and go from there. How is that? We will just take it one book at a time. Let’s start with this one.”


“It was a dark and stormy night…”

“Please  Dr. Adler that’s scary.”

“Ok Jimmy let’s try this one,  “Call me Ishmael…..

“Yikes, Dr. Adler, let’s stay with books with English names.”

“How  about this one. “Many years later, as he faced the firing squad…..””

“Ahgg…no violence please.”

“One  more  Jimmy and then if you still exhibit these symptoms we will leave and start a new course of treatment. “Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins.””

“Please continue Dr. Adler.”


Your Time Is Up!

Written for Friday Fictioneers.

PHOTO PROMPT -Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
PHOTO PROMPT -Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

He spoke calmly, with a grinding in his voice, explaining that this feeling of being disconnected from my surroundings was a normal reaction for someone with my condition. “Desensitization” he calls it. But I know this crowd will trample me if I don’t escape. The couple in front are both infected with a deadly disease. I start to tremble; the nausea begins; now the sweating. I know the signs all too well. I feel smothered.

I turn to him and plead for my return to sanity.

“Your 55 minutes are up Brad. See you next week.”

Friday Fictioneers — Time’s Running Out

In response to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneer Challenge.

Friday Fict



They said it would only be a matter of time.

“Do you know where you are, Mrs. Taylor?”

“A pottery class. I’m an artist!”

“Who is the current President of the United States?”

“Grover Cleveland. And it’s his second presidency.”

“What is todays date?”

“June 21st, 1991. It’s the day I am to be married. Chuck’s such a nice man. That’s him over in the corner behind those empty bottles. Looks like he’s made quite a mess. He doesn’t mean to be destructive. He just can’t control his anger sometimes. Like the time he hit me with that big pottery pot.”













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