FF – Dude
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The photo was contributed by Renee Heath.
My story hasn’t really got a beginning, middle or end and isn’t really a story as such either, but I’m short on ideas and time 😦

Copyright Renee Heath
“Dude.”
“Dude.”
Puff puff
“This is some good shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s sit here some more and watch our tent. It’s, like, swayin’ an’ driftin’.”
“Dude. It’s multicoloured. What is this stuff?”
“Peyote. All natural.”
Natural? Gotta be good for you then.”
“Dude.”
“Storm coming up. Should we move?”
“Can’t move, dude.”
“Man, this wind is bad. Where’d the tent go?”
“Blew away, dude.”
“Dude. SAVE THE WEED!”
Scramble scramble
“Weed is saved!”
“Dude!”
“Dude!”
“Car’s blown over.”
“Don’t care.”
“We’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”
“Live in the now, dude! What d’ya do?”
“Brain surgeon. You?”
“Airline pilot.”
“Dude.”
“Dude.”
FF – Metaphor For Life
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Ted Strutz.

Copyright Ted Strutz
The car nestled against a tree, headlights smashed, bonnet standing agape, paint peeling, bodywork rusted. Abandoned. Forgotten.
Randall allowed himself a wry smile. A fitting metaphor for my life, he thought. Once hurtling carefree along roads of fortune, city job, gold-digger trophy wife… then cast out to rot and die.
He sat next to the shell, cursing his old alcohol-soaked bones. A curious deer wandered close, bolting as it sensed his eyes on it.
This isn’t so bad, I guess. Nature. Even “dearest” Sophia is here. Say hello to the car, Sophia.
Sophia’s skull grinned at him.
Randall grinned back.
FF – Inner Voice
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Dale Rogerson.
Warning: there are a couple of slightly rude words in my story for comic effect.

Copyright Dale Rogerson
“Great, isn’t it?”
“Beautiful.” No.
“We’ll be the talk of the neighbourhood!”
“We certainly will be.” … a laughing stock.
“Just wait till everyone comes round later!”
“It’ll be simply marvellous!” I feel a headache coming on.
“So, are you happy?”
“Deliriously, my love.” Shoot me now.
“What do you think, Benny?”
“It’s crap, Dad. Why can’t we have a proper Christmas tree instead of bits of sticky tape… shit, did I say that out loud? I meant, it’s amazing, father!”
“Thank you, Benny. A little more practice on your inner voice, please.”
“Of course, Father.” Piss off.
“Much better.”
FF – The Great Mafesto
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Priya Bajpal.

Copyright Priya Bajpal
The Great Mafesto growled. The sink was full of shells again and his favourite cocktail had transformed into an ornament. Those damn pixies, always causing trouble!
The Great Mafesto looked high and low and found the pixie hiding in a corner giggling. He clicked his fingers and the pixie shrieked, bursting into flames. No-one makes fun of the Great…
TOMMY! The toilet’s blocked! If you’ve been shoving shells down the sink again, young man, so help me I’ll…
The Great Mafesto made a hasty exit through the French windows, cleverly escaping the wrath of the Monumentous Magnificent Mother…
FF – Dust Storm
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Russell Gayer.

Copyright Russell Gayer
Jerry stared at the deadly, yet immobile, dust storm. The stasis field, a miracle of temporal engineering, had kept them safe all these years, freezing them in time.
Trapped inside, they had struggled to survive as supplies ran low. Taboos were broken, terrible sacrifices made. People died.
“Can’t stay here alone no more, better off dead,” he murmured, switching off the stasis field, trembling, waiting for the dust to shred him.
There was a whoomp. The dust fell to the ground, the storm long since spent.
“Well, bugger. Could’ve done that months ago. Guess I didn’t need to eat Frank after all.”











