FF – Eternal Vista
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Bradley Harris.
He gazed out over the beautiful vista before him, feeling his heart rate decrease, his blood pressure lower as he found serenity. The lapping waves, the sun shining off the bottom of the clouds, the lush, green grass. The corpse at his feet.
Oh, mate. When I said ‘what’s mine is yours’, I didn’t mean my wife.
He’d bury him here, he thought. Such a lovely view to enjoy for eternity.
Don’t worry, mate, you won’t be stuck here all alone for long. I’ve brought company.
With that in mind, he returned to the car to fetch his cheating wife.
FF – Role Reversal
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Brenda Cox. It took me forever to think up a story this week.
Hand-painted art was all the rage. And why wouldn’t it be? Since the attempted takeover of the world by intelligent machines (well done, Sci-Fi, you were right), that’s all there was.
After all the scientists and engineers were blamed, put up against a wall and shot (it was presumably a very big wall), creative types were all that were left.
In a completely unexpected reversal of roles, poorer countries became the new “Silicon Valley”, while those left in the actual Silicon Valley, bereft of devices, were left trying to rediscover how to make a pencil work.
Who’d’a thunk it?
FF – It’s Christmas!
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Dale Rogerson.
It’s Christmas!
Lights, colours, buying gifts.
It’s Christmas!
Boisterous antics, late nights at the pub.
It’s Christmas!
Bringing home the tree, hanging the decorations.
It’s Christmas!
Even Baz had treated himself. An extra couple of newspapers padded his sleeping bag and he’d pulled it below the overpass to keep out of the worst of the snow. He wasn’t supposed to be under here, but he knew he’d be okay for a week, no-one would move him on until January, because…
It’s Christmas.
FF – End Up Like Cunningham
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. She provided the photo this week.

Cunningham took a moment to smile at the festive scene. He half expected Santa to zoom “ho-ho-ho-ing” across the sky.
He turned his attention back to the man in the back seat, still futilely trying to strangle him. He’d got the angle all wrong.
Amateur.
Shrugging nonchalantly, Cunningham flipped the rear ejector button on the dash of his tricked-out car. The man shot into the air, taking with him Cunningham’s head.
The moral? “Don’t rear-seat-eject someone while they have a garotte around your neck?”
Seems a little specific.
Perhaps… “don’t get cocky or you’ll end up like Cunningham.” We’ll go with that.
A Homonym Too Far
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Rochelle herself!
I apologise in advance.

“This wine cellar is so small. I can feel my claustrophobia coming on.
“Why can I never find anything? There are so many bottles. They need organising.
“It always smells so musty down here.
“Here’s my Chateau Lafite 1869. I want to drink it so much but it cost so much money.
“I can’t cope with all this. Why me? Oh, God, WHY ME? Aaaaargh!”
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“Hi Margo, where’s Tarquin?”
“He’s down in his whine cellar.”














