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FF – What Could it Be?
Here is my story (not really a story) for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by David Stewart.

What could it be?
An alien landscape, strewn about with energy pods, throbbing with power.
What could it be?
Alien eggs, ready to hatch, stereotypically blue for males and pink for females.
What could it be?
A triumph of modern art, the culmination of a life’s work made real in stark neon colours.
What could it be?
Futuristic travel pods, each containing a single life form.
What could it be?
Stomp stomp stomp KICK!
One of the ovoids sails though the air, flying straight through the centre of the distant circle. Cheers abound.
What could it be?
One-nil, apparently.
FF – Resources
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Anne Higa.

Maddens shone his multi-phasic light across the alleyway. There – tripolycarbo-urethic fuel, leaking from an overflow. Someone had been careless.
Nasty stuff, usually invisible, cuts straight through flesh.
He turned to the proprietor.
“You! Thank the System your negligence dismembered/killed 17 passers-by or we would never have found this! You are arrested, tried and convicted of resource waste (Resources Act 2057). The sentence is death.”
Bang!
As always post-execution, a queue was forming. He turned to the first.
“Yes, madam?”
“A nice bit of thigh and a kidney, please.”
Police Officer Butcher-Judge Mike Maddens grabbed his cleaver.
Waste not, want not.
FF – Rated PG
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Brenda Cox.

Whoooooooshhh!
“We’re here!”
“Why do portals always seem to spit people out in anonymous deserted alleys with foreign writing?”
“It is the way of things. Look, there they are! Take cover!”
Rat-a-tat-a-tat! Bang! Whizz! Pee-ow! Bang! Bang! Rat-a-tat! Hail of bullets! Ka-blam! Rat-a-tat!
“They’re not very good shots, are they?”
“No. They’ve destroyed everything except us. Seems unlikely. Wait a minute…”
“What?”
“Just checking. Ah. I suspected as much.”
“What?”
“We’re rated ‘PG’.”
“’PG’? Oh, man.”
“Yeah. If I can’t grin evilly while snapping someone’s neck I’m not interested.”
“Me neither. I want blood and gore. Let’s portal home.”
“Yep.”
Whoooooooshhh!
FF – Tales from the Tray
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Jennifer Pendergast.

Bit cooler out here.
Woof.
Miaow.
Look at you with your baubles. How crass.
You’re one to talk with that huge green scarf.
Woof.
Why am I upside down?
Miaow.
Do I look a bit burned around the edges?
You look fine, dear.
LOOK YE ALL! A HAND COMETH!
Aaaahhhh, a haaaand
JEFF IS CHOSEN!
Aaaahhhh, he is the Chosen One
(munch munch yum munch)
JEFF HAS GONE ABOVE. HE HAS ASCENDED. HE IS WITH THE GODS.
With the Godssssss
(munch munch buuurp aaaahhh, great cookies, dear!)
I hope I’m next to be blessed.
Me too.
Woof.
Miaow.
FF – The Beacon
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Dale Rogerson.
The Beacon pulsed, on… off… on… off… it was almost hypnotic.
Almost.
For some it was. Completely. Irresistibly.
As he watched, another unfortunate stumbled towards the Beacon, touching it, exploding into bright white ash. The area around the Beacon was knee deep.
Ash. Dead people.
One day it would be his turn.
Population control, they called it. One day you’d hear the call. Then you’d be gone. Boom. Ash.
He was all for population control. Too many people. Too few resources.
A policy of “free condoms for all” seemed less extreme than blasting people to atoms.
But what did he know?











