FF – Poisoned Air
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by J Hardy Carroll.
He watched as the fields raced past. Plenty of greenery, that had recovered quite nicely. But no people. No birds. No animals. Only plants.
This wasn’t life. Sitting at the carriage window every day, watching the remains of the world rush by.
The Train. A blessing or a curse?
He walked to one of the Termination Cubicles. Tapping in the required codes, he accepted the warning and the external window opened.
In seconds he was dead, the poisoned air searing his lungs. Once the air was recycled, he would be too. Nothing wasted.
Maybe one day people might survive outside again.
Maybe.
FF – Tree Man
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Sandra Crook.
In the following story, names have been changed to protect any real (or imagined) businesses who may or may not be good/bad/indifferent to the environment 🙂

Tired, the man sat on the trunk, not noticing the peeling bark, the mottling on the wood. The stump was diseased.
Spores penetrated his skin. His arms, his legs, his whole body was growing bark, leaves!
He was becoming… Tree Man!
He would become an eco-warrior without equal!
“What happened Dad, what happened?”
“Well, son, just as he began his eco-campaign someone chopped him down to build a MacDoonald’s.”
“Aw, Daaaadddd!”
“Go to sleep, son. And remember my words.”
Years later, the son became one of the world’s premier climate change campaigners. Until someone unfortunately bulldozed him over to build a Burrgerr King.
FF – Dedication to Duty
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Russell Gayer.
I couldn’t really think of a story but I didn’t want to miss a week.

“Send in the report, Haversham.”
“But there’s nothing to report, Sarge. Can’t we go home?”
“We were told to conduct surveillance on this area, Haversham. That’s what we’ll do.”
“It seems like we’ve been here forever. I’m sure there used to be more cars and people and less forest outside when we started.”
“Ours not to reason why.”
“I never used to be this old. And look at Ken. He’s all skin and bone. Well, mostly bone. I think they’ve forgotten we’re here.”
“We do our duty, Haversham. We’ve got movement. ‘Squirrel in tree 90 metres north of location.’ Note it down, man, note it down!”
FF – One to Doomsday
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Brenda Cox.

It happened overnight.
There was no wind. No storm. No vandalism.
Two of the three trees simply fell down. Ripped out by the roots.
Once upon a time (as all good fairy tales begin) they called these ‘The Peace Trees’.
‘As long as the three stand, the future is assured,’ so the story goes. Or words to that effect.
Two down, one to go.
One minute to doomsday?
But the old stories are gone and no-one even suspects. Except maybe old Granny Wilkins. She has “the sight”, they say.
But no-one ever believes her.
Until it’s too late.
FF – Cabin of DEATH!
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Alicia Jamtaas.
“Welcome back to ‘Forest Cabins of Horror’. It’s quiet… too quiet? What will we find? A strangled hobo? A mutilated college student? The castrated corpse of a cheating husband? Let’s open the door…”
Creeeeak
“…and we find… nothing! It’s empty. Well, this is a real ratings killer. Fred, come here!”
“Coming, Bob, what do you need? What are you doing with that knife? No… no… aaaargh!”
“Jeez, Bob, you killed him! You… bleurgh!”
“Jeff, stop vomiting and pick up the camera. Action! …and inside we find the fresh body of a young male. He appears to have been stabbed only moments ago…”











