Bangers and Mash

This post is in response the Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less using the picture prompt below.

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

The movie set looked realistic. Small boutiques lined the winding narrow cobblestone streets. Mannequins replaced actual customers in the store fronts. The old blue roadster parked at the curb beneath the gas streetlights added a finishing touch to the set.

After my mother died I remember my dad taking me to dinner at Finnieston’s, a diminutive blue building on Argyle Street.  We would take the Argyle Line and get off at the Exhibition Centre railway station. He would order his Bangers and mash. It was an experience a little lad like me will never forget.

“Action,” cried the director.

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Leonardo

Weekend Writing Prompt # 171 Impact

I am finding it very hard to find a job in Milan. I touted my many skills to potential employers. I have mention my ability to design bridges, waterways, cannons, armored vehicles and public buildings. Surely one of those many skills will make an impact on my future.

Perhaps my potential employer has enough candidates better qualified than me. Should I tell him I can also paint.

Buried Treasure

This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less using the picture prompt below.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

My grandmother kept a meticulous record of every family member in her large white bible. Each child’s birthday was recorded in her beautiful handwriting. She lived long enough to record some of their deaths.

Near her death I was sitting beside her as she remembered each one with a special story.

I noticed one entry labeled James that had the same birth and death date. I asked my grandmother about it.

“That was your uncle Jim,” she said crying.

I never knew I had an uncle. “What happened to him,” I asked.

“Your father buried him in the backyard.”

Mona Lisa

This post is submitted to the Weekend Writing Prompt.

Your artist had a very distinctive style.

You would think that you deserve a much larger showcase.

A small picture frame for a lady with the famous smile.

 In a place where legion of foreign tourists used to jostle for elbow space.

Sunshine Yellow

In response to Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge

IMG_2174
Photo Credit === Danny James

It was a hot early morning in Havana.

“Where can I find a ride to the museum?”  I asked the young man eating a banana.

He was a chatty young fellow.

He pointed to the taxi he called “Sunshine Yellow.”

Lend Me Your Ear

This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers

Write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end using 100 words or less. My story begins after the photo below.

palettes
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

It was a warm and, thanks to the blooming bougainvillea’s, a pleasingly fragrant night in Arles France. He saw Paul sitting at their favorite table drinking his glass of absinthe. Paul’s wife was, of course, not there.

He approached the table. He was holding the bloody blade. He appeared to be in a trance. He pressed a towel to his head to staunch the gushing blood. Taking the red soaked towel from his head he turned this head toward Paul.

“What have you done?” asked Paul.

“I gave it to her as a keepsake.”

“I mean really Vincent, your ear?”

Weekly Writing Prompt #166 — Hinterland

Hinterland

wk-166-hinterland

 

The night deepened. They were closing in on him. He could hear the hounds wailing just beyond the trees in the distance. The cacophony of the tracking dogs and horses trampling through the woods was putting him into a sheer state of panic. He was unable to rest or stop. His terror was growing by the minute. Planning for his escape had consumed his thoughts the last five years of his imprisonment. His immediate mission was to vanish into the vast Hinderlands of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

 

Weekend Writing Prompt #165 – Cavalier

Weekend Writing Prompt #165 — Cavalier

wk-165-cavalier

 

“It is just like the flu. Believe me nothing is going to happen to you. Just a few of my friends will be there.  One day we will look back on this and laugh.  Everyone is healthy; everyone is just fine. Put that ugly mask away my faithful friend. Whatever happened to your devil may care attitude?”

I was offended by his cavalier attitude.

Leave It Outside The Gate

This post is written for Friday Fictioneers. 

The rules are simple: write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less. My story follows the picture prompt.

the-gate
PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

He would make him regret firing him. He didn’t waste his degree in Chemical Engineering working for a dummer than dirt uneducated manager who made vague racial comments about him.

His weapon was perfect: a colorless, odorless liquid that even in very low concentrations would cause death to occur within one to ten minutes after inhalation.

Everything was wiped clean so there would be no finger prints to trace. He wiped the sweat from his brow and pulling his latex gloves off he smiled.

He even had the perfect delivery system. Just leave it outside the gate.

Quarantined

This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers.

the-view
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

It wasn’t the way things were supposed to work out. The promise of having friends and family visit was one of the main selling points in moving into assisted living. The ability to maintain contacts would keep him from going insane.

Now it’s just the staff. The same old staff now wearing masks. What the hell has happened. They say the most terrible legal sentence to impose on someone was solitary confinement.

Far beyond the window, at the edge of some tall willows and behind the gate, he can see his granddaughter. Even from here he can see her crying.