Archive for the ‘Friday Fictioneers’ Category

“Distorted Reflection.”

The below story is short fiction. It is my submission for this week’s Friday Fictioneers 100 word story from the photo prompt provided. It has been a fun writing exercise each week and has helped me improve in areas where needed. As I have said before, the art and craft of writing is an ongoing work in progress and I keep at it, good or bad.  For writers and readers of my blog site, I want to say and emphasize that my fiction stories (long or short) are only fiction, and are not ‘Reflections’, true stories or illustrations, or related to experiences in my life, or anyone else’s life whom I may know. They are never intended to poke fun at someone, or criticize one who may be in a similar situation and is merely a coincidence if my characters or stories find a sensitive nerve in one who reads them. I sometimes create characters for my stories completely different from myself or anyone else, but give them real life situations, or scenarios in their lives where they might experience these things, and will be faced with decisions or choices that could affect their lives, and will wonder just how they might deal or cope with these experiences as they happen. It is interesting that sometimes a story I have written or a non-fiction post I have put up will somehow bring a variety of readers to the site with differing views and opinions. I value the input from all. I sometimes will use the male gender in my stories and in a first person POV (Point of View), or in third person. Feedback and comments on my fiction or even my non-fiction posts are always welcomed as I learn from them and work at improving my writing skills. Thank you fellow writers, bloggers and Friday Fictioneers’ contributors for all the great comments, feedback you have offered and compliments. I appreciate all.      

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Distorted reflection? Over exposure? Whatever it was. The image was me.

They sent me to school, paid my way.

They warned me once, “Son, work hard. Stay focused. The world lies just beyond your telephoto lens.”

I didn’t listen, didn’t care, made new friends, had a good time. I drank too much, studied too little, hung with kids who knew how to party. I just went along.

My captured images, sights and shots of places visited, famous and found should have filled the pages of National Geographic. I was their protégé.

But, no more.

I lay here drunk, homeless, unemployed.

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Posted August 22, 2012 by Joyce in Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction, Writing

Friday Fictioneers 100 word story for August 17, – “Oscar”

Grandpa told the story.

“We’d play near the bull pen. Oscar was the meanest old bull, with big horns on its head. A storm came up spooking ole Oscar. He come charging across the pasture, broke through the fence, then ran towards us. Well, we ran hard too, and climbed that old crooked tree, barely clearing the trunk. Oscar charged up as if he was part cat getting its head and horns stuck. Pa had to shoot the poor critter, for it’d broken its neck. Big black eyes stared up at us. Oscar was good eatin for a long time.”


Friday Fictioneers, August 10, – Seashells

The below story is short fiction. It is my submission for this week’s Friday Fictioneers 100 word story from the photo prompt, provided by Madison Woods.

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SEASHELLS

My bare feet welcomed the cool, soft sand. It was shallow here, the water transparent. Like my heart.

We’d walk the shoreline together carrying plastic bags, looking for seashells, my husband and I.

I walked alone this morning, clutching his urn to my chest, reminiscing.

Forty five years we had together. We built our castle on the sand here, before the surf washed it out to sea, and cancer claimed his life.

I picked up an oyster shell. Like arms spread open, empty of its contents, its sides remained attached.

I opened mine, emptying his ashes into the sea.

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Posted August 9, 2012 by Joyce in Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction, Writing

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Friday Fictioneers, August 3, – The Orchard

 

“Mom, Skippy is sick.”

“Come here, Skippy. Let’s see.”

Skippy whimpered and whined, lifting his paw to scratch at his eyes releasing a discharge. Saliva spilled from his mouth. His muzzle was warm, sweaty.

“Something’s wrong with him. I’m calling the vet. He may be infected with something. Where have you both been today?”

“At the old orchards. There is something rotten, funny looking growing over there. Skippy stepped in the stuff, then licked his paws.”

“Where?”

“There.” He pointed.

Flies buzzed around the biochemical waste site, rotting vines oozing a porous, bubbling mutating slime, consuming, spreading its deadly disease.

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Posted August 2, 2012 by Joyce in Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction

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Friday Fictioneers, July 27, “The Spigot”

 

The below post is a short 100 word fiction story posted for the Friday Fictioneers writing group. A photo prompt is provided and writers create a story to go with the photo. Below is mine.

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The vibration, thumping sound grew louder.

Engineers conferred, checking water pressure levels, testing valves, equipment, analyzing all.

“At this rate we’ll suffer breakdown. A power shortage. The generators are on overload.”

“We’ve examined every square inch in the structure for damage, a leak, or crack. They’ve found nothing.”

“No tremor. No earthquake. Yet, we have tons of H2O being depleted mysteriously from water main lines, and aqueducts feeding off the Hoover Dam? I need answers!”

Red lights flashed. Alarms sounded.

One screen beeped. A picture came up.

“A spigot?”

“With a message, sir.”

“We’ve just drained your well.”

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Posted July 26, 2012 by Joyce in Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction

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Grapevines

The below story is fiction. Each week writers from all over create a story to go with the photo prompt provided by Madison Woods for the Friday Fictioneers writing group.  This week’s photo prompt is,  ‘Grapevines,’ and this is my 100 word story.

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He sat, sipping a glass of wine, but knew it would not last.

Preparing to fend them off, he loaded the magazine, and waited, determined to protect his investment, his irrigation rights, and the grape harvest.

Demonstrators marched up the road, chanting, “No water for wine!! No water…!”

The drought covered the country, much like the blight years before, ruining crops.

No rain for months, people were desperate, violent.

The riots had become ugly.  

Closer they came, with machetes, whacking at plants, torching the vineyards.

Now, they came for him.

Grabbing up his M-16, he fired. 

What have we become?!

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Posted July 18, 2012 by Joyce in Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction

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Friday Fictioneers, July 13, “The Buzzard”

The below story is fiction, submitted for the Friday writers’ group, Friday Fictioneers based on a photo prompt. This week’s photo prompt is, ‘The Buzzard,’ provided by Madison Woods.

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The Buzzard

Blackened, burned, nothing remained, but ash and debris. What do I do now? All was gone.

Like everyone else, warned to get out before the flames roared through the canyon, devouring everything on the mountain. Even the wildlife scattered.

A lone buzzard perched on a spindly branch in a knurled black tree watching me with its beady eyes, waiting for my demise too. I watched him too, angry, hungry! It had no right to be here, to wait in pursuit of its kill. I was the victim.

But, not this time! He would be mine!

Bang!

I’ve got dinner.

Posted July 12, 2012 by Joyce in Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction

Friday Fictioneers, July 6, ‘Pecos’

The following is my story for this week’s Friday Fictioneers. It has been a fun writing project each week as we come up with our own 100 word story to the photo prompt, provided by Madison Woods. This week’s photo prompt is ‘Pecos.’

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‘Pecos’

“You idiot! You picked a swell place to go exploring. Out here, in no man’s land.”

“Look! It’s an Indian dwelling of some kind. Let’s check it out. Our GPS doesn’t even show this road, or any residential around here.”

They walked carefully over dried brush, dodging cactus, and snake holes.

A loud whisper echoed across the desert landscape ricocheting off canyon walls.

“You trample on sacred ground, the great spirit of the desert warrior, Chief Pecos!”

“What was that!?”

Shaking, they turned around, slowly.

A huge, old man stood, his weathered hand raising a tomahawk.

Posted July 6, 2012 by Joyce in Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction, Writing

Friday Fictioneers, June 29, – The Raspberry Patch

“Mama! Look! Raspberries!” Pudgy bear said, plucking a handful, stuffing his mouth full.

“You did good, son. Your hunting instincts have improved. Now save some for your sister.” Said mama bear.

“She can find her own. You told us to find our own food, and eat all we find.”

“But she is smaller than you. She needs more. This time, you share.”

“Grrrr!” Pudgy growled at his sister.

“I’m littler than you.”  Sweetums bear said.

Goldilocks crouched down, hiding in the trees, holding her breath, and her basket of berries.

I should have listened to my mama, and stayed home!

Posted June 28, 2012 by Joyce in Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction, Writing

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Friday Fictioneers – June 22, Melon Felon

The below story is my 100 word Friday Fictioneers story submitted for June 22, in Madison Woods Friday Fictioneers: Thank you Madison for the opportunity to be a part of Friday Fictioneers, and providing the photo prompts to use for the inspiration. Here is my entry for this week. Got it right to 100 words again, and has sure  been a lot of fun. Feedback and comments are welcome.

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“I have stomach pain. My head feels hot. Chills, headache, nausea. I hurt all over.”

“What did you eat?”

“Just some cantaloupe.”

More questions.

“Where?”

“The farmer’s market.”

I overheard their quiet discussion, something about a shipment of cantaloupe. It’s exposure to infected… flies? Carrying what?

Cantaloupe? I loved it. I thrived on fruit during my weight loss, to get the weight off… to get healthy.

Can’t hold up my head. Feeling faint. So dizzy. Don’t remember anymore.

Drifting, in and out, everything, everyone, fuzzy.

Shadows, forms rushing around me.

“Quick! The paddles.”

“Hurry! We’re losing her.”

“Good! She’s stable!”

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Posted June 21, 2012 by Joyce in Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction, Writing

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Friday Fictioneers – WHERE ARE WE?

Friday Fictioneers 100 word story (June 15, 2012) – “Where Are We?”

Note: First off, I can honestly say that this sixth story of mine is once again exactly 100 words, except for a title I added. Second: The below story is true, not fiction as all the ones prior to this have been. This event happened exactly as told,  exactly at this time last year in June (2011) when my husband and I were vacationing in Glacier National Park, Montana. To fill in a little bit more on what really happened I will add a few of the details. We started out on a trail after parking our car and got lost for over two hours in the rain. The fright at being lost, and maybe running into a grizzly bear was as real as can be imagined. We had already had one encounter with a black bear two days prior when one ran right out in front of our car while driving down the road. I am a believer in the power of prayer. I depend on God for his divine protection and mercy, every day.  It is my faith that keeps me strong, focused. So, I take nothing for granted.  When Madison Woods posted the picture prompt for this week’s Friday Fictioneers story,  it was like experiencing this adventure all over again. The picture was so much like the ones I took  while on our trip  that I am going to post mine here instead of re-posting Madison’s. I don’t know where her picture was taken, but mine here were taken in the Glacier National Park the day we went on that hike when hiking through the forest, an adventure I and my husband are not likely to forget.

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“WHERE ARE WE?”

With every step, and thump of my walking stick the bell jingled, loudly. My eyes anxiously darted around every tree, rock, bend in the trail. Do they smell me, hear me? 

Grizzly bear habitat, Glacier National Park, Montana. The rain continued, cold.

“We’re lost. There’s no path. We don’t have our map, nor a compass.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get us back. Wait here. I’m going to look for our car.”

I waited alone, praying, scared. God, where are we? Where is he? I’m going. I can’t stay here. Please help!

I walked on.

There he is.  Our car. We’re safe.

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FRIDAY FICTIONEERS 100 word story, June 8, “BOMB SCARE!”

Superbowl, Sunday.

“What?! Did you say bomb? Confirmed? Where? The blimp? How can that be…?”

I looked up. It hovered over the stadium, the object of impending death and destruction.

“Evacuate? There are over two hundred thousand seated in this stadium. OK, sir. Right away. We’ll get started, but send me more officers. It will be pandemonium, chaos.”

People ran, pushing, shoving, climbing over seats, over people, desperate.

“Get out of my way!”

“Move!”

Every seat, now emptying as people merged into the swarm rushing at the stairwells, elevators, ramps.

I jerked, waking up. Again! Dreaming the same dream.

Posted June 7, 2012 by Joyce in Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction, Writing

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Friday Fictioneers 100 word story, June 1, – ERUPTION

Breathing is difficult, the air thinner. We estimate the mesa just another few miles. Closer now, we gain momentum, our excitement building.  We approach the last rise. Nearing the edge we feel heat generating under the earth’s surface, hot to the soles of our feet.  Snow runoff forms puddles, then mud, sliding into our boots.

Why is it so hot? Something isn’t right.

We’re here! Peering down we stare into a deep cavernous cauldron. Whooshing, boiling, sulfuric acid white clay rising, spinning, up the mammoth mouth it comes, towards us. An eruption, eminent.  No protective cover. No time to run.

Posted May 31, 2012 by Joyce in Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction, Writing

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# FRIDAY FICTIONEERS, Massacre at McDonald’s – 100 word story, May 25

The place is closed now, deserted, a sign posted with large ugly moths looking for entrance. I can’t forget that horrible day at McDonald’s. Nine people were killed, six wounded. A crazed maniac walked in, pulled out a gun and shot at random. I was working my 4-11 shift at the pick-up window when I heard ear-splitting screams, running, yelling, “Get down!” I hit the floor, crawling around, pulling others down with me, even as some fell after being hit. Some said he was a former “disgruntled” employee. It’s been a year now. I’m still grieving. Where is the healing?

“RAINBOWS” – 100 word story for Friday Fictioneers, May 18

Ribbons of pastel stretched across the sky in a half-moon. Sunlight poured out of heaven covering the meadow in a warm blanket. Trees and plants suddenly looked greener, fuller after the summer rain. Robby stood staring up at the rainbows, his mother beside him. “See, mama? They came to cheer you up.” he said. “Don’t worry.” But, his daddy still had no job, and often got grumpy, mean. His mama cried a lot. They had no money, hardly any food left. Robby said a prayer. A short time later, his father burst through the door. “I found a job!”

Friday Fictioneers – The Storm – 100 word story from picture prompt

The below brief story is one I wrote for the ‘Friday Fictioneers’ writing group, based on the picture prompt. It is a writing exercise I enjoyed, and had fun doing. If it were to have a title I would just call it, “The Storm.”  It has exactly 100 words, the required amount. I plan to add more fiction soon, but will be another chapter to my novel, “Where Lies the Truth.”

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The Storm

Hail pelted my head. The wind’s furry bucked my efforts as I struggled to get back.

It was a  stupid decision to set out on a late night run down the road, away from camp.

When I started out there was only a sprinkle. Breezes blew the leaves around. Then the moon disappeared behind dark clouds. I could barely see. The forest’s trees stretching upward succumbed to the winds’ howling strength breaking off limbs, falling near my feet. I panicked.

“Help me, God.”

The rain turned to a drizzle. The moon opened before me, giving me light.

I’m home, Safe.

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Posted May 11, 2012 by Joyce in Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction, Writing

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