draliman on life

Here is my story for Fridy Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The photo was contributed by David Stewart.

This week I went for “gritty reality”. It’s a bit clunky but it’s good to try something other than “humorous dialogue” once in a while.

To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.

Copyright David Stewart

Rusted cars line the curb-side, burnt-out shells long abandoned. A starving tabby scrabbles for morsels in the long grass, forgotten by apathetic owners. Half-dressed women stand on the corner promising excitement with dead eyes while their watchers, dressed in leather and gold, control their next fix, their lives. A young man staggers against an ageing fence, his pockmarked face and spider-veined arms mute testimony to his addiction, the infection in his lungs only hastening his demise.

People look but don’t see.

People hear but don’t listen.

People speak but say nothing.

This is life on Dead End Street.

Here’s my story for Friday Fictioneers, a weekly photo challenge hosted by Rochelle. The photograph this week was contributed by Jennifer Pendergast.

To view the other stories for this week, click on the blue froggy.

Copyright Jennifer Pendergast

Pete, designated “Team Leader”, read the instructions.

“Row across Doom Lake, navigate the Rapids of Certain Death and finally enter the Canyon of Damnation.”

“Um,” said Charles, “this sounds awfully dangerous.”

“These team-building exercises always sound like that,” chipped in Nancy. “It’s fine!”

“Well,” said Charles, “I don’t like the sound of it. I’m not going.” He watched his workmates sail off before going back to his room. He popped a beer, tripped over his slippers and broke his neck.

The moral of this story? Seize life. Because that bullet with your name on it? You’ll never see it coming.

Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was also supplied by our hostess!

To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Samson looked up at the lights in the window and reached for his walkie-talkie.

“They’re flickering, man.”

“But you can’t hear anything?”

“Nope. All quiet.”

“Good.”

“I’m coming down.”

He trudged down to the basement. “I told you we should’a used car batteries,” he grumbled.

“D’ya know how much they cost? It’s an old building. Dodgy electrics. It’ll be fine.” Mason walked over to the table and looked at the man strapped there.

“So, snitch, let’s try this again, shall we? Who’s your contact?”

He twisted a knob and the man screamed, his back arching. Upstairs, the lights flickered.

Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle at Addicted to Purple. This week’s photo was contributed by Claire Fuller.

To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.

Copyright Claire Fuller

“So what’s this you’re demonstrating, then?”

“Well, you know how the little bastar… darlings from Class 7B are always tipping the lockers over?”

“Yeeesssss…”

“I’ve retro-fitted them with special bars that automatically slam down to steady them the moment any tipping movement is detected.”

“Riigghttt… one problem I can see…”

“I’ll give them a shove and you’ll see it in action.”

“…is that there’s a busy corridor right behind…”

Shove.

Creak.

Clunk.

SPLAT!

“Yay! The anti-tipping mechanism deployed beautifully.”

“On top of Class 5C.”

“Some sort of pre-deployment alarm system, perhaps?”

“Go away now, please. Somebody call an ambulance!”

Here is my rather rushed story for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle and with a photo supplied this week by C. E Ayr. Click on the blue froggy for this week’s other stories!

I hate to publish and run, but I’m off to my book club. It’s my turn to bring the biscuits!

Copyright C. E. Ayr

“What’s that picture, Grandpa?”

“Whales, in the sea. That’s to remind us of the days before the particle accelerator accident, when 90% of our seawater drained through to another dimension.”

“Oh. Is that what caused the ruined buildings?”

“No. That was the creatures from the other dimension attacking us because we almost drowned them all.”

“Oh. So why do we still have seas?”

“That was some helpful aliens who delivered water and accidentally drowned 95% of the survivors. But they say bad things come in threes, so we’re safe now.”

“Yay!”

“I’m sure the massive comet currently hurtling towards us will miss.”

“Um. Yay?”

Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, the 100-ish word photo prompt hosted by Rochelle over at Addicted to Purple. The photo this week was contributed by G. L. MacMillan.

A cautionary tale from me :-). Good luck finding spelling mistakes this week – I’ve purposely misspelled almost everything!

As always, click on the blue froggy to see this week’s other contributions.

Copyright G.L. MacMillan

They say, there was these kids shootin’ bottles wi’ thur BB guns, when all sudden like, wi’ RAT-A-TAT! all them bottles ‘sploded. ‘Twere ol’ Jed, survivalist, wi’ ‘is assault rifle. Scared ‘em kids ‘alf t’ def.

Lived in one o’ them bunkers full a’ guns, n’ cans o’ beans an such. Oil gennies, water purifier, the works. World war three? Zombie ‘pocalypse? Na problem.

Then one day, they say, Jed were cleanin’ ‘is sawn-off an’ took both barrels under t’ chin.

An the moral o’ this story? All the prep’ration in t’ world ain’t na use if you’ve na common sense. Yer brains’ll still end up on t’ ceilin’.

Here is my story for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, a 100 word photo prompt hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Dee Lovering.

Don’t forget to click on the blue froggy to read all the other stories!

Copyright Dee Lovering

The residents of Clusterdale awoke one morning to find their little township draped in a thin layer of white.

Children were ecstatic. What fun they would have! Adults looked out of their windows suspiciously. It was too warm for snow, surely? It was mid-summer! Was this the effect of global warming? A new ice age?

Was the End come at last?

Children laughed, not understanding the worried looks on their parents’ faces.

Across town, fire fighters reeled up their hoses. The massive overnight explosion at “Walker Brothers Icing Sugar Packing and Distribution” would be talked about for years to come.