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Highly Strung
It’s Friday Fictioneers time! And I’m actually posting on a Friday for a change.
For those of you new to Friday Fictioneers, our wonderful host Rochelle posts a picture and the rest of us write a (roughly) 100 word story, poem or whatever about it. This week’s photo was donated by fellow Fictioneerer Janet Webb. Thanks, Janet!
To read all the other stories, click here.
I have to admit my story is 107 words. I already cut a load out and I honestly can’t see how to cut out another 7 words without compromising the story. Sorry 😦 .
Copyright Janet Webb
Detective Turnbull looked around the gallery. He couldn’t decide if the sprays of blood adorning the art were an improvement. He shook his head.
“Not your thing, detective?” asked a uniform.
“Art? Huh. So, what happened?”
“The artist went nuts. Sliced some kid to bits with a palette knife, if you can believe that.”
“Do we know why?” asked Turnbull.
“Kid grabbed a sangria from over there. Apparently it was part of the ‘piece’. Bit high strung, this artist.”
“Okay.” Turnbull turned to the gallery owner. “We’ll get this blood cleaned up.”
“Are you mad? This is live art! I can sell this room for a fortune!”
My Heart’s Desire
It’s Friday Fictioneers time, folks. Hosted as ever by Rochelle, a hundred or so bloggers write their 100-ish word take on a photo prompt which this week has been supplied by fictioneerer Dawn M. Miller.
To see all the other contributions, click here.
Well folks, I have nothing! Therefore I have composed a “poem”, using a slightly spurious link with the photo – lamps-light-fire. It has no twists, no comedy or dark humour and is, I suppose, vaguely romantic-ish. Not something I do, but since I don’t want to miss out on a week I’m going to publish it anyway. Then we can all just move on.
And weirdly after I finished it I found it was 101 words. What a fluke.
Copyright Dawn M. Miller
Candle burning in the dark
It calls to me, it calls to me
Sulphur bright, the Devil’s spark
She calls to me, she calls to me.
Eyes like fire, she beckons me
Towards the light, towards the light
My heart’s ensnared, no longer free
Within her light, within her light.
Closer now, I see her face
A face divine, a face divine
Desperate now I quicken pace
To make her mine, to make her mine.
At last she holds me in her arms
Consumed by fire, consumed by fire
No more sorrow, safe from harm
My heart’s desire, my heart’s desire.
Workshop at the End of the World
It’s Friday Fictioneers again! Doesn’t time fly? Hosted as always by Rochelle, a bunch of us get together to write roughly 100 words to a photo prompt, supplied this week by Claire Fuller – thanks Claire!
I had a spot of bother with this one. I toyed with a couple of ideas but none of them seemed to work, or were based on visual gags. I finally fell back on old faithful – post-apocalypse. Last year I was obsessed with slaughtering people, this year it’s the end of the world. Just once I’d like to write a rom-com.
I also had major words count issues so it doesn’t flow as nicely as I’d hoped, but that’s the challenge, isn’t it?
You can view other people’s entries here – have a read!
Copyright Claire Fuller
Zed knew the structure to be a workshop – he had a stash of old books and had seen pictures. He had even deciphered some of the scribbles.
Inside he could see… machines? lying dormant. They would ever be so. They needed sparkfire to run, he remembered, and the knowledge to harness this was lost in time.
He gazed at the scribbles over the entrance. “No… smok-ing” he sounded out. Why would one wish to catch fire inside to require such a command, he pondered? Chuckling, he went in out of the sun, took a seat and lit his favourite pipe.
A New Patio
It’s Friday Fictioneers time, hosted as always by the lovely Rochelle. A hundred plus eager writers get together to offer their own interpretation on a photo in around 100 words, and this week the photo has been supplied by fellow Friday Fictioneererererer Björn Rudberg!
Other entries can be found by clicking here.
So, without further ado, here is my contribution to this week’s fun.
Copyright Björn Rudberg
Zeke’s sigh was lost in the rumble of the cement mixer. What a waste of time this was! They were out in the middle of nowhere. Anywhere would do, but his wife was a traditionalist. It has to be done the right way, she insisted. You always hide them under the patio, she argued.
He threw another dismembered corpse into the concrete and sighed again. They were perfectly alright where they were before, feeding the grape vines.
A flash of light caught his eye – sunlight glinting off binoculars far below in the valley.
Ah, lunch!
He reached for his hunting rifle.
The Constant River
It’s that time of the week again – Friday Fictioneers time!
Every week a bunch of us write 100 words (or thereabouts) in response to a photo prompt, which this week has been supplied by Erin Leary. The talented Rochelle is our host – why don’t you give it a go?
This week’s other entries can be found by clicking here.
This is something a bit different from me this week. There’s no humour and nobody dies horribly (sort of). I’m not sure I like it, it makes me melancholy. Hey ho 🙂
Copyright Erin Leary
The river flowed sluggishly through the lowland fields beneath the weak light of a watery sun. It had been birthed high in the mountains. It would become part of the great water.
In its travels it saw many things. Trees and grasslands. Mountains and plains. Four-legged beasts and man-things.
Its waters ran red now, red with the blood of many man-things upstream. The river cared little for such things. It was forever. It was constant.
The man-things were temporary. Inconsequential.
The river understood this as it flowed indifferent to Man’s inhumanity toward Man, continuing its long journey to the sea.
No Smoking
It’s that time of the week again – Friday Fictioneers time (regardless of the fact that it’s not Friday – boo 😦 ). Hosted by the amazingly talented Rochelle, a bunch of us get together to write a (roughly) 100 word story in response to a photo, which this week comes to us courtesy of Dawn Q. Landau.
To read everyone else’s amazing contributions, click here!
I’m in an odd mood this week. I’m not sure if my story is funny or tragic. I suspect it’s tragic but I find it quite amusing. I wonder if I need to seek professional help?
Maybe you should judge for yourselves…
Copyright Dawn Q. Landau
“No Smoking” in the gunpowder store was a given, but Samuel had been doing this job for ten years and he’d never had an accident. The cigarette dropped to the floor as he fell asleep.
The whole top of the mountain blew off.
Newlyweds Sally and Jeff walked hand-in-hand along the beach.
“Is it me or is it getting darker?”
“I think it is. I hope it doesn’t rain.”
“Me too. What’s that whooshing sound?”
The remains of the gunpowder store drove their mangled bodies into the sand. It’s still there to this day. So are Sally and Jeff.
Look At Me!
Smashing – it’s time for the first Friday Fictioneers of 2014! Rochelle is our host, and this week’s photo has been supplied by her daughter-in-law!
How did the doggy get up there?
All the other amazing entries can be viewed here.
As a special “treat” since it is the first Fictioneers of 2014, I have popped one of my infamous DraliDoodles at the end so that you can all gaze in awe1 at my amazing2 artistic skills3.
Notes:
1 – “awe” is an unlikely emotion when viewing DraliDoodles
2 – “amazing” is an incorrect term when used to describe DraliDoodles
3 – “skills” – this word has been used incorrectly in this instance
Copyright – Rochelle’s daughter-in-law
Look at me! Look at me! I am at the top of the tree, oh yes. On top of the world!
Ruler of the planet! Bwahahaha!
Gaze upon me from the ground far below, tiny human child, for I am supreme! I cast my eye over the whole of creation, and I shall rule it all. The grass, the trees, the humans, my fellow canines – all will bow down and pay homage to me!
I am King of the… wait, what’s the female human bringing out? Are those… dog treats? Oh boy! Make way, coming down! Clear the way! Woof!
“Look at me!”, a DraliDoodles special edition for Friday Fictioneers
Broken World
Hello one and all – I hope you all had a wonderful holiday time! However, the holidays can’t hold back Friday Fictioneers which, as always, is hosted by Rochelle. Today’s striking photo was supplied by fellow Fictioneerer Douglas M MacIlroy.
If you would like to join in, click above for Rochelle’s site. You can also view all the entries (updated during the week) here.
Copyright Douglas M. MacIlroy
The high-intensity beams shone out like the eyes of some fantastical creature. The tower’s atomic cells had powered the lights for centuries, as they would for centuries more.
The beams cast eerie shadows across the endless miles of desolation, legacy of the mismanagement of the latter decades of the twenty-first century. The light glinted off rivers running thick with toxins, flowing through empty miles dotted with the petrified remains of vegetation. The sun’s rays, no longer attenuated by ozone, had bleached the skeletons white.
Above it all the tower stood guardian over a poisoned world, mute testimony to the folly of Man.
Dry Clean Only
It’s Friday Fictioneers time again, this being Wednesday and all! Hosted by Rochelle, near on 100 people have a go at writing 100 words in response to a photo which this week has been supplied by Jean L Hays.
Entries are added all through the week – check here to view the other entries.
I’ve gone for a bit of silly dialogue this week 🙂 .
Copyright Jean L. Hays
“Wow, that’s amazing! The colours are so vivid. It’s like being there!”
“What’s that?”
“Your hanging glass decoration thing. With the dolphin. It’s like being there! Wait, where’d the dolphin go?”
“Oh, that. That’s not a picture, it’s a portal. I expect the dolphin swam off.”
“For real? A portal? Wow, is there nothing they can’t do nowadays?”
“It’s actually quite old, as a matter of fact.”
“Cool. I’m gonna stick my hand through. I can feel the sea!”
“Watch out for the…”
“Aaargh!”
“…sharks.”
“Aaargh!”
“Hey, point your arm stump some place else. This suit is dry clean only!”
A New Life
It’s Friday Fictioneers time again! As always it is hosted by Rochelle and this week’s 100 word photo prompt has been provided by fellow Fictioneerer Adam Ickes.
You can see other entries here – more are added every day, or have a go yourself – it’s fun!
That looks to me like a Native American in the background – if it isn’t, it is for this story!
Copyright Adam Ickes
They’d broken away from their tribes, eschewing modern technology. They wanted to recapture the lives of their ancestors. Over a hundred had gathered in a remote valley to live according to the ways of a long-gone age, following a history gleaned more from John Wayne movies than from textbooks.
From time to time backpackers wandered into their valley. Waste not, want not. Why just take a scalp when the entire body is covered with good, useful skin?
Of course in this modern age they needed money, so they sold their products in town. Their best-seller?
Hiking boots, 100% quality leather.
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I totally didn't win!
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