FF – Allergies
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Na’ama Yehuda.
Agent 9 took a deep breath and crept closer, picking his way through the flower beds. His target was in sight, a small, unassuming man – no-one would suspect what he carried in the briefcase at his side.
Agent 9 placed a finger beneath his nose, closed his eyes and proceeded. Close, so close… he could almost touch the man now. He held his breath a moment, concentrating, and released… better. He reached out towards the man… closer… closer…
aaaaaCHOOOOO!
The man ran, taking his suitcase nuke with him, ready for sale to the highest bidder.
Hay fever’s a bitch.
FF – The Last
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Carole Erdman-Grant.

He’d seen places like this everywhere. After the bombs fell they’d become havens for the depraved, daubed with gang signs making clear their purpose.
He saw no-one, however. He hadn’t for over a year. Violence, starvation and radiation had taken the world.
Many animals had survived the radiation-induced mutations, but he was the last human.
“I am the last! I am the final living… ugh.”
He didn’t even see the huge, mutated claw which took him. The last human he may have been, but there are worse things out there now than humans.
Welcome to the Age of the Mutant.
FF – Roses
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by David Stewart.
Smiling ruefully, he realised he’d made two lunches again. Sometimes he thought he could hear her. Any little noise in the house, in the garden. Like she was still there.
Sometimes he forgot she was gone.
She had been a good wife. She kept the house well. If only she hadn’t been such a nag. Do this, do that, you’re lazy, lazy!
It was enough to drive a man to murder.
Shrugging, he shuffled over to the back window. His rose bushes were flourishing. Ironically, though she hadn’t been much of a gardener in life, his wife made fantastic fertiliser.
Sharing My World 28-03-2022
Here is my post for Melanie’s Share Your World.
What fictional family would you like to be part of? (think TV shows, cartoon or books or some fictional family that you admire)
Yikes, fictional families are all a bit screwed up one way or another. Otherwise they’d be too boring for TV. So I’ll stick with my own, I think.
Which band or artist would you like to play at your funeral or memorial service? (the artist can have passed on too)
Maybe the song “Fire” by “The Crazy World of Arthur Brown” might be amusing as I slide into the oven.
Preference. Popcorn, M&Ms or other. Choose something you love snacking on.
I don’t really snack. If I eat between meals it’s usually something like ice cream while sitting out in the sun. Otherwise it would be deli stuff – cheese, cocktail sausages, cured meat etc. That’s more of a meal, though!
If you could be any supernatural (fantasy) character, what would you be? (Think Elves, fairies, dragons or whatever)
I reckon an elf. But not some namby-pamby kiddie-style elf. A cool elf who can do magic and shift realms and whatnot.
FF – Stay Vigilant
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Roger Bultot.
According to MS Word, “This language may be offensive to your reader.” You have been warned 😮
Shoes. Comfortable. Keep your feet warm. Take you where you need to go.
But what if they don’t? Occasionally, you get a well dodgy pair. They pull you into a pub, a gambling shop. They force you to kick some poor unsuspecting mug in the nuts.
Some shoes can be right proper bastards.
And what do you do then? You hang them. Hang them by the laces until they be dead.
It may seem harsh, but it’s the only way.
Keep your wits about you. Are any of your shoes right proper bastards? If so, act now.
Stay vigilant. Stay safe.













