draliman on life

It’s Friday Fictioneers time again. Every week Rochelle supplies us with a photo prompt and we get 100 or so words in which to write our story. This week’s photo was supplied by Roger Bultot.

Here’s my rather dark story for this week, and to read all the other stories you can click on the little blue froggy.

Copyright Roger Bultot

“Can you tell me why, Jimmy?” The doctor, notepad in hand, looked at the young man sitting across from him.

“Don’t you know? Don’t you feel it too?”

“Feel what, Jimmy?”

“That rush, that surge… elation! The flames live.” His eyes became dark, furtive, his voice suddenly hushed. “They need to live.”

“And the people you’ve hurt?”

“The fire must eat. That is why the fire exists.” Cold now, dispassionate.

“Tell me about your family, Jimmy. I understand they died in an electrical fire when you were seven?”

Jimmy’s eyes gleamed. “My first. You never forget your first!”

Recommend continued psychiatric detention. Advise police reopen case 104723/A – “Matthews fire 1998”.

It’s Friday Fictioneers time, hosted by Rochelle. Here’s a rather silly story befitting quite a mad photo, which came to us from Lauren Moscato by way of Amy Reese.

You’d think I’d have a million ideas for this photo, but no. Or perhaps the problem is that I have a million ideas but no decent ending. Here’s what I decided on in the end.

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

Copyright Lauren Moscato

Sitting in their van, the builders watched as a dog shot out of the doggie door, pedalled its legs comically in mid-air and then crashed to the ground.

“When he said ‘add a second storey’, d’ya think he meant ‘on the top’?” asked one.

“Dunno,” said the other. “If that’s what he wanted, he should have said so. I taped a sign to his door, just in case.”

“What’d it say?”

“Mind the step.”

“Nice.”

The door opened and a very irate owner stared out.

“Did he pay up front?”

“Yup.”

“Good. Let’s get out of here before he finds a ladder.”

Here is my contribution to Friday Fictioneers, the weekly 100-ish word flash fiction challenge hosted by Rochelle. This week’s picture comes from David Stewart.

I’m still in a weird mood but here’s a bit of odd dialogue for you. I had a whole run of comedies and then recently it’s all gone a bit sombre. Hey ho.

For this week’s other stories, click on the little blue froggy. Here he is!

Copyright David Stewart

“The horn player’s out of tune.”

“He is a bit. You’re right.”

“That used to be me, you know. Before my lungs began to fail.”

“I know. You were good.”

“I was. I was good. Not like that fellow.”

“I’m sure he’ll improve with time. You weren’t always good, were you?”

“I suppose not. Will there be a brass band where I’m going?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you know? You’re an angel.”

“‘Facilitator’. I told you. I help you move on. That’s all. Where you go is a mystery to me. But I’m sure you’ll find your brass band.”

It time for Friday Fictioneers, the 100-ish word photo prompt flash fiction challenge thing hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by long-serving Fictioneerer Sandra Crook.

It’s a great photo – I’d quite like to be there in person – but weirdly my story this week is rather, well, depressing 😦

Warning – this blog has suffered a (temporary) humour-ectomy!

To read the other stories, click on the little blue froggy.

Copyright Sandra Crook

Julio sat and stared numbly at the vodka and pills. How had it come to this? He didn’t even really care any more. He felt empty inside, like a frost had worked its way into his soul.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to die. He was sure he no longer wanted to live like this – if one could call this living. He flipped the top off the pill bottle.

Through the window the rising sun illuminated the trees in shades of gold, and seeing it he felt a tiny glimmer of warmth deep inside.

Hope?

Dropping the bottle, he reached for the phone.

It’s Friday Fictioneers time, the weekly 100 word photo prompt writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Erin Leary.

To read this week’s other stories or to contribute your own, click on the blue frog.

Copyright Erin Leary

The two Space Troopers peered down the Great Wooden Cliff of Trevellis Prime at the QzzQarg flying saucer invasion fleet far below.

“Target lock, fire one!” announced the first. The Great Ball of Destruction hurtled downwards, smashing into three of the saucers. Pieces flew everywhere.

The Troopers celebrated.

Another moment and the final two saucers disintegrated.

“Boys…” came a voice.

“Message from the Commander!” said the second Trooper.

“… stop playing with your football and come inside! Dinner’s ready. And bring some of those mushrooms next to the fence, they’ll make a nice garnish.”

The Troopers looked down at the devastation.

“Oh, crap.”

Hello everyone, and welcome to my contribution to this week’s Friday Fictioneers, a weekly 100-ish word flash fiction photo challenge hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo comes to us courtesy of Dawn Q. Landau and features some people walking up a railway line with a dog trailing behind.

They could be on a Sunday afternoon stroll or… or… well, if this photo doesn’t scream “post-apocalyptic dystopian future” I don’t know what does!

To read this week’s other entries, or to add one of your own, click on the little blue froggy.

Copyright Dawn Q. Landau

Julie trudged along the railway. The others were far ahead, but she was tired, so very tired.

Once there were trains running along these tracks, she thought. Before the Pulse, when there was electricity, there were trains and computers and… food.

At that thought, her stomach twisted. How long since her last meal? Two days? Three? She rummaged around, stuffing the crumbs she found into her mouth.

How far is this promised “sanctuary”, anyway?

How much longer could she last without food? She looked back at her beloved dog hungrily.

One day you’ll perform one final sacrifice for me, old friend. But not today.

Here is my contribution to Friday Fictioneers for this week. This is a weekly challenge hosted by Rochelle and this week the prompt photo was contributed by Marie Gail Stratford. Thanks, Marie Gail Stratford!

To view the other stories or to contribute one of your own, click the blue froggy.

Copyright Marie Gail Stratford

It had existed since the beginning of time, its crystalline shell holding safe its essence. It had seen stars explode, planets burn. Many of these cosmic catastrophes it had caused, for it was bored and spiteful.

Now it had found a new victim for its amusement. The planet Earth.

Hiding in plain sight on a mantelpiece in a small terraced house in Catford, it gathered its will and made ready to strike…

… and smashed on the floor, its billions of years of existence and hatred shattered.

“Timmy! What have I told you about playing football in the house? That was a wedding gift.”

“Sorry, Mum!”