daily prompt, writing

Oh, Lucky You!

The year is 2214, and your computer’s dusty hard drive has just resurfaced at an antique store. Write a note to the curious buyer explaining what he or she will find there.  Buyers, Beware? | The Daily Post.

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The Last Scene

friday fictioneers. flash fiction, photo prompt, short story, 100 word fiction

No one noticed the new hire repairing the stage lights – except me. On the ladder, his movements appeared suspicious. With a white baseball cap slung low over his eyes, pudgy fingers rotating out burnt light bulbs, this time I sensed a deleterious moment plunging uninterrupted forward.

“Five minutes, show time…places, everyone,” said the director.

As the stage curtain lifted, the new hire appeared in front of me and with fury in his voice said, “You can‘t leave me, Bitch!”

Then, my ex-lover/manager fled without his cap while the audience applauded the realistic scene. Bleeding, I took my last breath.

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Inspiration: Friday Fictioneers with host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end.

THE KEY:

MAKE. EVERY. WORD. COUNT.

Photo Credit: Kent Bonham

Ultimate Survival Sacrifice

As all forms of water evaporated worldwide, the Oasis, a lush area protected by a massive concrete wall and guard station, offered the final hope for the remaining drought survivors. Judging by the dead bodies strewn across the path near the compound entrance, I assumed the guards were not planning our welcome party today. Pity.

Hearing a desperate request to find a way inside, I speak while reluctantly reaching for a hidden Vodka bottle from my backpack.

“Let me attempt to bribe the guards and once I signal, slip in fast.”

Praying to St. Michael, I quicken my pace forward.

::: ::: :::

 

Inspiration: Friday Fictioneers with host, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end.

THE KEY:

MAKE. EVERY. WORD. COUNT.

 Photo source: John Nixon at The SuperCargo.com

 

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Repairing the Elevator

Reluctantly he handed her the repair note. His wife’s jewel-studded manicured nails scratched across his fingers as she snatched the crumpled paper.

“Just what were you thinking? You knew how difficult it was to get the elevator service technician to commit for a repair date!” She continued, “Oh, don’t tell me you’re capable of fixing it. That’s a joke! You can’t even cook dinner or wash the laundry when I tell you!”

“But, Honey, your dinner is ready and laundry done! I didn’t think you would mind if I tried repairing the elevator myself. I’m the landlord after all…”

::: :::: :::

Inspiration: Friday Fictioneers with Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

THE CHALLENGE: Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. No one will be ostracized for going a few words over the count.

THE KEY: MAKE. EVERY. WORD. COUNT.

Genre: Contemporary

Photo Credit: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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A Friday Fictioneers Affair – Who Done It?

This week’s photograph from the Friday Fictioneers hundred word story challenge intrigued me for some reason. Perhaps the two gossiping station cleaners I observed while waiting for friends to arrive triggered the story.

Who knows?

copyright – Dawn M. Miller

“Such a shame about that rich kid,” she said. “Here his mother built such a successful jewelry store empire, and all destroyed by this murder business!”

“I dunno,” younger cleaner replied. “It may have been the mother. Remember years ago when her husband turned up dead? She hired that hot-shot attorney and got acquitted.”

“Nah, I still think her son felt threatened by mom’s new beguiling lover. He was almost his age you know. Sure good-looking and mama’s boy may have sensed trouble ahead. ”

“Girl, get back to cleaning. Let the jury decide tomorrow who gets the guilty verdict.”

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Friday Fictioneers meets every week. The challenge is to a write one hundred story with the given photo prompt. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, the gracious host, gives the key: “Make every word count.” 

Ligo Haibun Special: Nature’s Way Out

My trembling fingers gently clutch the baby bracelet I have hidden in my dress pocket. I decided, despite Fear holding a rapacious death grip on me, my partner and I would see our first baby born, under the honeysuckle bush, in our back yard. I love being outside. Always have. Unfortunately, our home state prohibits home births.  Clutching the bracelet, I let go of Fear. The contractions are getting stronger, and instinctively, the midwife picks up this sudden change. She follows my partner and me out back. Shallow breathing while walking; my water breaks open.

Pain intensifies. I want to push…now. Much too early; keep breathing, midwife says. I look around our small backyard. What a beautiful sunny day. Given the clandestine nature of our meeting, the baby could not pick a better day to arrive than during the merriment and festivities of an Earth Day celebration. I close my eyes to feel deeply each contraction. I listen to birds chirping, a better alternative, instead of the incessant unnatural noises of hospital beeping monitors. When our little baby arrived, caught in the shallow water by its father, we had a good laugh. The baby boy turned out to be a girl!

kiddie swimming pool
birthing center at home
trusting flow of body

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My offering to the weekly Ligo Haibun.

Thank you ♥