Time to Move Out
It’s time for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the lovely and talented Rochelle. The idea is to write approximately 100 words in response to a photo prompt. And 100 words is not a lot, let me tell you 🙂
This week’s photo is of a staircase in an old building, and was supplied by Rochelle herself! You can read all the stories submitted for this week’s prompt by clicking on the little blue froggy.

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Harold wheezed, out of breath, as he reached his apartment block. A sharp sound – crack! crack! emanated from a nearby alley as he unlocked the front door.
“Damn gangbangers!” he muttered as he stepped over the semi-conscious junkie in the doorway and went inside. Fifty years ago this had been a nice, quiet neighbourhood.
As he approached the stairs he heard a scream and a body crashed down, bouncing off the grill lining the stairwell. Harold took a quick look. That pusher from next door.
He pulled out his phone and called his daughter.
“Honey, is that room still going spare?”
Storybook Corner – Pulse
Here is my submission for February’s Storybook Corner. This is a 300-500 word photo prompt hosted by talented fiction writer Adam Ickes. Here’s the cool logo.
Why not give this a go yourselves – you still have a couple of hours left for February! The word limit gives a little more scope than many of the photo prompts out there. You can read all the submissions by clicking on the little blue froggy below.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside
This week’s Photo Challenge from The Daily Post wants a photo which says “Inside”. I have two photos which show inside and outside!
When it’s a bit chilly outside (even though the sun has come out)…
… it’s nice to snug up nice and warm in the living room of my new house with the gas fire on (and watch Dr Who).
Double flash reflection and a finger in the way! I am such the photographic professional 🙂 .
Everything Changes
Hello and welcome to my Friday Fictioneers entry, which is hosted as always by Rochelle and this week features a photo by Friday Fictioneerer Adam Ickes.
I wrote this story on Thursday, but only now have time to post it! To read the other entries for this week, click on the little blue froggy.

Copyright Adam Ickes
Shelley summoned her courage and approached the little wooden bridge. The new varnish gleamed – one could never tell that it had been damaged.
Edging forward she looked into the gulley, a run-off for melting winter snow. A tear stung her eye as she cast her mind back to last week when everything was all right, everything was normal. The buzzing of the little dirt bike, the laughter of her brother, his excitement as he tore onto the bridge.
A tiny miscalculation. That was all it took to change everything.
Forever.
She placed the flowers next to the bridge and walked away.
His Favourite Place
It’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted as always by the talented Rochelle. This week’s picture comes courtesy of Danny Bowman – my (roughly) 100 word story follows.
Have a look at all the other great entries here, and why not give it a go yourself?
Andriy mopped the sweat from his brow as he looked out over the stunning landscape.
What rugged beauty, he thought. Much like my native Ukraine.
He had emigrated to this land years ago, quickly finding work in a job he was eminently suited to. It was these moments of solitude however, surrounded by such incredible views, that he lived for.
Bracing himself, he dragged his burden to the edge of the cliff and pushed it over. For a moment he wondered what the poor sod had done to deserve such a brutal end, but then shrugged and settled down to enjoy the view.
More Haste…
I have completed my house move! Well, I have yet to re-assemble my bed, and I can barely move for boxes, but still… I missed last week’s Friday Fictioneers but I now have my internet connected. Fibre at last! Call me Mr Speedy.
So without further ado, here is my submission, written to a photo submitted by Fictioneerer Sandra Crook. As always, Rochelle is hosting the whole shebang, so be sure to check out her website, and you can also read the other submissions here.

Copyright Sandra Crook
I don’t believe it. Another tractor! Can’t these farmers move their straw in the middle of the night or something? What’s he doing? Fifteen miles per hour? Ridiculous. What about my dinner?
Ah, I think I can slip past… no! That was close. Damn cars coming at me. Maybe in a minute, I think there’s a straight bit. Here we go… oops. Dammit! More traffic. I can’t believe this. Pull over, moron! I’ve had enough of this. I’m going past. There’s never anything on this stretch. Foot down, yes! No! NO!
Jim Preston. Loving husband. Father of three.
Idiot.
Dead.













