FF – Inheritance
Here is my story for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Mary Shipman. Thanks, Mary!
Click on the blue froggy for this week’s other stories.

Copyright Mary Shipman
“Wow, Dad sure did sell a lot of old trash.”
“Yeah. How much d’ya think we can get for this place?”
“Not a lot. Off the beaten track, and his stock? Well. We’ll sell it somehow.”
“Hey, here’s where you carved your initials.”
“Yeah, I got a telling-off that day! And those… what did he call them… ‘quality vintage undergarments’? Still not sold. I remember when he bought them. Family outing to that antiques fair outside Brighton, remember?”
The brothers fell silent, each lost in his own memories.
“So… you take the counter and I’ll welcome customers?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
FF – Night of Terror
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Madison Woods.
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.

Copyright Madison Woods
“Hurry, they’re coming, string the barbed wire!”
(twang)
“Connect it to the generator and flip the switch!”
(crackle bzzzzzzz)
“I can see them now, freaks, horns, demons! They’ll take everything, nothing is safe, no-one is safe. Inside, quickly! Close the door, lock it. We have seconds, scant seconds! Turn out the light.”
(click)
“Behind the sofa, everyone. They mustn’t see us, they mustn’t see us… they’re here, oh God, they’re here… shhhhh…”
(clomp clomp clomp…)
“TRICK OR TREAT!”
Limerick Challenge – Dark
Here is my Limerick for Mind and Life Matters’ weekly Limerick challenge. I had a hard time with this one but have thought of something at the last minute :-).
This week’s word is “Dark“.
I once was afraid of the night
Vampires gave me such a fright
Now dark tunnels I tread
As I hunt the undead
With my matches I’ll set them alight!
FF – A Costly Mix-Up
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Kent Bonham, and you read the other stories by clicking on the blue froggy.

Copyright Kent Bonham
“I don’t understand, Michaelson. We’ve tried every glyph in this damnable book to no avail, by Gods!” snapped Trenchart in exasperation.
Michaelson regarded the book suspiciously. “Are you sure this book is the genuine article, old man? Three weeks we’ve been at this. Three damnable weeks!”
“Got it off some chappie in the market, cost a fortune. Swore it was the genuine article, what?” said Trenchart. “Same time as I purchased that colouring book I shipped home to my daughter…” He tailed off, and the intrepid explorers looked at the book in horror.
“Damn it all, Trenchart!” yelled Michaelson.
FFftPP – Something Wicked This Way Comes
Here is my story for Roger’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. We get a phrase to use – “What is the peculiar smell?” and a photo, along with 200 words.
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.

Photo from pixabay.com
“What is that peculiar smell?”
“‘tis the stench of death, come for us on wings of deepest black. Forsooth.”
“What? What? What’s he saying?” The other meerkats shook their heads. “Ever since that tourist safari chap dropped The Complete Works of Shakespeare he’s been insufferable.” The other meerkats nodded.
“For ’tis the cruel arrows of fate which approacheth or mayhap a harbinger of doom which cometh on paws of death. Forsooth.”
“Paws of death? I suppose he could mean… a lion’s coming?” The other meerkats looked around, panicking.
“And here he cometh as ‘twere Hades himself risen from the circles of ever fiery Hell our souls to claim, forsooth, our broken bodies…”
ROAAAAR! SNAP!
“… to rip aaaaargh!”
“Well, lads, that comes as a bit of a relief, quite frankly.” The other meerkats, eyes wide as saucers, nodded. “Okay, chaps, RUN!”
FF – Treatment Failed
Here is my story for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The picture this week was contributed by J Hardy Carroll.
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.

Copyright J Hardy Carroll
Josie looked up at the burned out windows as she huddled in the shadow of the broken building. The other kids thought this place depressing but she liked it here. Sometimes she fancied that if she looked hard enough, she could see the ghost of her mother staring down. It made her feel safe.
Her mother had been a “resident” here at Saint Joseph’s Home for the Feeble of Mind until the Great Fire of 1972. They’d been trying to cure her of her compulsion towards arson.
Josie shook her head sadly. Guess it didn’t take.












