FF – After He’s Gone
Here is my little story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields herself!

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
“The house seems so… empty without him.”
Her husband nodded and opened the cupboard.
“Look,” she sobbed. “All the stuff he used to play with. The old clock. He… he… loved that clock.”
He kissed her forehead. “He did. Such happy memories.”
“Gone so fast. I miss him so.”
The doorbell rang. He peeked out the window. “Shit! He’s back! And he’s brought laundry! I told you that college just down the road was too close. Close the curtains!”
“And switch off the lights! Too late. He’s seen us… Hi dear! How are you? Dirty washing, how lovely…”
Pegman – What Goes Around
Here is my story for What Pegman Saw, which this week takes us to San José el Huayate, Chiapas, Mexico.

Copyright Google
Juan gazed at the peaceful scene before him, a stark contrast to the life of violence and death he had left behind.
Recruited into the cartels from an early age, his proclivity for violence had catapulted him to head interrogator in short order. Finally despairing of that life, he had “liberated” a tidy sum and fled.
He’d thought he’d have longer before they found him, he mused as he hung, naked, from a crossbar. He found himself mentally chastising his protégé.
The wires Manuel had used to attach the car battery were far too thin. Everything was too dry to properly conduct the current – it would get very hot. He’d attached the crocodile clip to the wrong testicle.
Not that any of that really mattered, though he was sure having his genitals burst into flames wasn’t part of Manuel’s torture plan.
He’d had a good run, but nobody escapes the cartels. Nobody.
FF – Feeding the Flames
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by J Hardy Carroll.
Here’s a dark and chilling story with a bit of a giggle thrown in. Can anyone guess which book/film my desperate inspiration for this came from? Probably 🙂

Copyright J Hardy Carroll
Head Fire Officer Drochnik laughed as he ordered his crews to turn their hoses on the buildings. Scum! How dare they? The State gave them everything, and still they rebelled. He breathed in the heady scent as the buildings were doused with petrol.
Doors flew open and screaming peasants ran for safety, dripping the flammable liquid behind them. Many carried their contraband, desperate to save what they could. Bags of Mars Bars, boxes of Curly Wurlies, crates of Snickers and there – what was that one carrying? A basket of Twinkies? Disgusting filth!
Drochnik lit the match, ending their wretched existence.

Pegman – It’s Good to be Home
Here is my little story for What Pegman Saw. This week the little Pegman is wandering around Athens, Greece.

Copyright Dylan Watson for Google Maps
“My home, my beautiful home! Ruined!“ Athena looked around. She was not happy.
“Hey, kiddo,” came a familiar voice. “Long time.”
“Daddy!” Athena squealed. “I was taking a nap. What’s happening? Why are you dressed like that?”
“I have a job!” explained Zeus. “Electrician. Suited to it, I thought. The humans neither need nor want us any longer. So we’re making do.”
“But what of the others? Poseidon?”
“Fisherman.”
“Hephaestus?”
“Blacksmith.”
“Surely not Uncle Hades too?”
“He’s had various jobs. Lawyer. Politician. Reality Show producer. He’s decided it’s much more fun tormenting humans while they’re still alive.”
“Oh dear. Maybe if I’d got up when I first woke I could have stopped this, but I dropped off again. I wanted one more millennium in bed. What should I do?”
“’Strategic warfare’ is one of yours, yes?”
“Surely by now humans have abolished war?”
“Ha! Prepare to be very busy, my girl.”
FF – Can we go to Bloomingdales?
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Marie Gail Stratford.

Copyright Marie Gail Stratford
“Can we go to Bloomingdales, Daddy, can we can we caaaaan weeeee?”
“Ooh,” chipped in her brother, “how about ‘Wrigley Field’? Is that where the chewing gum is made?”
“No, son!” laughed Dad. “That’s where they play ‘the baseballs’. Why don’t we try the zoo?”
“Yes, please!” chorused the kids.
Mum left the group, walking from the holographic image suite to look out of a window at the Earth, far below. Was that a small patch of green or just her imagination? Was the planet recovering, sooner than predicted?
Maybe the kids, or their kids, would live to see Chicago for real.
Pegman – Dark Days
Here is my story for What Pegman Saw, which this week sees us in Cordoba, Argentina.
I’m not sure what my story is this week. Is it post-apocalyptic? Dark almost-but-not-quite-humour? A damning indictment of the “haves” and the “have nots”? Bittersweet or just plain bitter? Nooobody knoooows.

Copyright Google
Juan gazed across the city at the skyscrapers. Every city had them – bastions of so-called civilisation amidst the ruins. The global drought and subsequent world-wide economic collapse had devastated the world. It hadn’t rained for three years.
Those few had the money to dig deep wells, desalinate water, grow crops. Not for the likes of him, of course. They didn’t have to drink boiled urine. They didn’t have to eat rat, though even the rats were dying out. That chap from down the street was starting to look pretty tasty.
He could leave the city, but Cordoba was his home. He’d been born here, and he’d die here. Probably fairly soon.
No – he mustn’t think like that. There was life, therefore there was hope! Feeling cheered, he ran across the road, chasing a feral cat.
He never saw the truck. Never felt the first drops of rain begin to fall.
FF – Kidz
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This weeks’ photo was contributed by Sarah Ann Hall.
(For non-UK persons, a “GCSE” is an exam taken at age 16.)
This might be a bit hard to read but I find some kids a bit hard to understand so there you go. Authenticity.

Copyright Sarah Ann Hall
“I wanna makes an impression in da interview so I smashes dis vase an I’s like coz dis one’s fake innit coz I has GCSE Art wot I almost passed an I sees from der faces it woz like a real one…”
Sigh.
“… an I’s like whatevs an dey’s like get out an I’s like talk to da hand an dey’s like priceless Ming an I’s like wot like in Flash Gordon an den dey frew me out.”
“So, you didn’t get the job, then, dear?”
“Nah. An I need an advance on ma pocket money coz dey sending me da bill innit.”
Sigh.






