FF – Natter Natter
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Ronda Del Boccio.

Copyright Ronda Del Boccio
“Ooh, look down there!”
“Yes, look down there!”
“Take a selfie!”
“I will take a selfie!”
Click
“Ooh, such fun, more Champagne?”
“Ooh, yes please…”
Natter natter chitter chatter blah blah…
The burners exchanged a look through their empty, soulless eyes. An unspoken agreement passed between them. As one, they tilted forward. As one, their valves rotated. As one, they belched forth cleansing flame, incinerating the noisy humans.
Lacking pilot, rudderless, the balloon floated on.
It would likely crash soon. And it was somewhat charred and smelled of barbecue.
The burners didn’t seem to mind.
They liked the quiet.
FF – Attack
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Ted Strutz.

Copyright Ted Strutz
Jeff twisted and turned, but still they came. They were getting closer now, braver. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.
Sensing movement, he ducked towards a wall. Too late. A rush of steely wings slammed into his face. Onwards he ran. Safety, so close. Only 20 metres away he could see his wife, beckoning.
Too slow.
Something crashed into him, scratching his hand. He looked down sadly. Two crinkle-cut crisps and half a picked gherkin where once had been an entire Happy Meal.
He raised his face to the skies and screamed.
“BLOODY SEAGULLS!”
FF – Angry Crowd!
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by David Stewart.

Copyright David Stewart
The angry crowd moved down the mall towards the Presidential Palace, smashing as they went. Doors, windows – smashed. The freaky purple modern art installation, which had cost the starving country millions, exploded into shards.
Shouts of “kill the murderer!” and “food for the starving!” echoed through the streets.
The blood-thirsty crowd reached the main entrance, murder on their minds. A note was taped to the door.
“Due to the current COVID crisis, this residence is closed. Please call back in July, or email dictator_fernando69@autocrats.absolutepower.com.”
Disheartened, the angry mob made a note in their diaries and went down the pub instead.
FF – Absolute Power – How To Handle Those Little Issues
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by C.E. Ayr.
I couldn’t really think of anything this week. Very busy with work and then I spent the evening on a long walk so time got away from me!

Copyright C.E. Ayr
“And so, children, the blast of sound from the speakers blows the sand off the beach, thus leading to loss of land mass.”
“Sir, my mummy said it’s to do with The Climate Change, and…”
“FALSE NEWS! Go and stand in the corner!”
“Yes, Sir sniffle sniffle.”
Later…
“We can’t have this, Mr Trimp. I know your third cousin is a big shot in the States, but even so… if nothing else, your bright orange skin is scaring the kids.”
“Grr…”
Ring ring
“Hey cuz, I have a problem needs “handling”… Headmaster annoyance… yes, make it look like an accident again…”
FF – Still a Kid
Here is my contribution for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The photo was contributed by Jan Wayne Fields.

Copyright Jan Wayne Fields
“Look, babe, just what I need!”
“A straw hat.”
“Yes! Just right for my Revolution!”
“Your revolution.”
“Aloooohaaaa! Power to the People! The government shall fall!”
“That’s not what ‘Aloha’ means.”
“No?”
“No. Love, peace, an all-encompassing force…”
“That’s it! An all-encompassing force!”
“… which holds together existence.”
“Oh.”
“We’re supposed to be on holiday. I’m having an ice cream.”
“There’s ice cream? Can I have one?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Nice! Then we can find me a more suitable revolution hat.”
“Yes, dear. (This would be cute if you weren’t 51. I married a child. My parents warned me, did I listen?…)”

















