Category Archives: Friday Fictioneers

Frostymandias – Friday Fictioneers

Hi everyone,

the story is below the photo but to those who write Friday Fictioneers stories, do you hate having to log into the Inlinkz site every week to get the code for the “blue frog” button? There is an easier way.

The code is always the same. The only difference is the six-digit number in it. If you save the code in a word document, you can reuse it every week, only changing those six digits. You find them by clicking on the blue frog on Rochelle’s post. The Inlinkz URL looks this:

http://new.inlinkz.com/luwpview.php?id=497352

Those last six digits are the unique numbers for this week’s group.

Here is the code (at least if you have blog through WordPress; the others are slightly different). Replace those six digits with the new ones and it’s good for the new week.


 

<!– start InLinkz script –>

<a href=”http://new.inlinkz.com/luwpview.php?id=497352&#8243; rel=”nofollow”><img style=”border: 0;” src=”http://www.inlinkz.com/img/wp/wpImg.png&#8221; alt=”” />


 

Maybe you already do that, but it’s just a quick way to save a step when you’re trying to get your story up and start being read.

Frostymandias

I cut through Pine Park and came across a slushy stump, the remnant of our winter tyrant, Frostymandias.

After months of winter, people cried out for relief and with the perversity of frost-bitten minds, we made the thing we loathed: a god of ice so that we could beg him in person to leave.

Offerings of icicles were stuck anonymously in the snow, but Frostymandias only glared down, laughing at our puny supplication. He was cold, biting, eternal.

But then spring came.

*   *   *

A bird landed on the stump and dropped some grass: a toupee for a bald and melting god.

The inspiration for this story.


Letter from Camp – Friday Fictioneer

copyright Erin Leary

copyright Erin Leary

Hey Mom and Dad!

So, this is my first letter from camp! It is wonderful here. Say hello to Brad and Margot for me. No point writing twice. 🙂 The food is amazing! I’d get so fat except for all the activities, like 3-leg races. My team has broken the record for fastest time! Kassie was on my team. I’m glad she came or she’d be missing all the fun.

I might not send another letter. Too busy having fun! I’ll help you plant the roses when I get back, Mom. Please don’t do it without me.

Your daughter,

Noelle

 

 

Note: If anyone is reading this on a black and white screen, this story may not make any sense. Just saying.

 


10,000 Miles Straight Ahead – Friday Fictioneers

copyright Dawn Landau

copyright Dawn Landau

10,000 Miles Straight Ahead

My sister Olivia left to ride the rails when she was sixteen. She only told me, but I was 10 and scared. I tattled.

Too late.

Olivia came back three years, 22,400 miles, and an entire lifetime later. She had the best stories. Mom was furious. Dad wiped away a tear and hugged her.

“Stay around,” I said. “For me?”

She nodded, but two weeks later I found the note by my bed.

“That’s who she is,” Dad said.

“Will she ever change?”

“She’s like a train,” he said. “10,000 miles straight ahead, but not an inch left or right.”


Death Maker – Friday Fictioneers

copyright Marie Gail Stratford

copyright Marie Gail Stratford

 

I

make death:

long, beautiful

annihilation.

We all do here

at  the forge,

but  Harold,

who’s a klutz,

makes  axes:

tree   death,

and William

shapes animal

slaughter for

the butchers.

I am the best.

I make human

death. I sweat

at  the  steely

altar of Hades,

heated crimson

like future blood.

My masterpiece was for the king. It took a year to make. The hilt was set with a

fountain of diamonds, like the seeds of mourning lilies.

It won me a

citation. I

cannot read it,

but I know what

it  says.  The

best  death

maker  in

the realm.

 


Paper Dolls – Friday Fictioneers

I am super late this week in posting my story for Friday Fictioneers. There are several reasons for this, including being very busy at work, but one main one is that I am finding Friday Fictioneers stories harder and harder to write. It’s not that I can’t think of a story: I could probably sit down and write a hundred stories in a row for any given picture. It’s just that as time goes on, my standards for myself for originality and quality keep increasing and after 113 100-word stories, I feel like everything has been done. That’s one reason why I play around ways of presenting stories: I feel like I’m stagnating or at least I don’t want to. Sometimes a story that I like comes right to me, but usually it doesn’t and these days, I often agonize about it for days. If you do Friday Fictioneers stories, do you ever feel this way? Is it just me?

copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Paper Dolls

Snip, snip. A line of identical dolls appeared.

Elise picked up one of the crayons from her father.

“Make them colorful,” he’d said. “Bring them to life.”

She left the first one blank; drew a happy face on the second. The third had clothes and hair.

The tenth took all week. Finally, the light glowed off her perfectly shaded face. Her name was Galatea; Elise had ten pages of history for her. She was Greek. And liked chocolate and rainbows.

Elise put down the pencil and Galatea’s arm floated up as if waving, blown by an imaginary breeze.

Elise smiled.


The Labyrinth – Friday Fictioneers

copyright Melanie Greenwood

copyright Melanie Greenwood

 The Labyrinth

For years, adoption was our goal. Every form signed was another step through the bureaucratic labyrinth, until we stepped out into open air and he was ours.

~*~

“Michael is seeing the school psychologist again today,” I told my friend Brent over coffee. “He still starts fights, and fires.”

“It’s hard being a teenager.”

“Did we make a mistake adopting older? Maybe we should’ve gotten a baby.”

“Don’t tell Michael that.”

“I just feel like we’re back in the maze. I don’t know how to get out this time.”

Brent shrugged. “That’s parenthood. You don’t get out, you just go through.”

 


Lighting the Way Home – Friday Fictioneers

I am intrigued with story tone, how just a few words can make all the difference to a story. So, for this story, I’m going to let you choose the tone. This story has four endings, all written in white font. Click the text with your left mouse button and drag to block the hidden text and reveal the ending of your choice. Then vote for your favorite.

copyright Ted Strutz

copyright Ted Strutz

Lighting the Way Home

There is a switch in the basement unconnected to any circuit. I always leave it on, hoping that somewhere, it is connected to a light that will lead Brad back to me from beyond.

*

I am sitting in bed, the silver moon fluorescing the room through the window, when the door opens.

“You came back.” I can barely breathe from joy.

“I saw your light,” Brad said. He kisses me, but his lips are cold and I taste decay.

_____________________________________________________

1. Scary

“I came back for you,” he whispers. I jerk awake, gasping, and run to the basement, clawing at the accursed switch.

_____________________________________________________

2. Sad

“Are you real?” He doesn’t answer. I reach out and he starts to recede. “Brad!”

I wake, tears soaking my pillow.

_____________________________________________________

3. Quirky

“Are you still dead?” I ask.

He smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. Can I come to bed?”

“Fine. Brush your teeth first, though.”

_____________________________________________________

4. Silly

“I love you, Beth,” he says.

“My name is Heather,” I say.

“Shit, I got the wrong house again.” He disappears.

_____________________________________________________


Tidings by Tide – Friday Fictioneers

No text this week, just pictures. Still 100 words exactly though.

copyright Georgia Koch

copyright Georgia Koch

Tidings by Tide

Tidings by Tide 1

Tidings by Tide 2

 Tidings by Tide 3

FF111 newspaper


Stare – Friday Fictioneers

copyright Jan Wayne Fields

copyright Jan Wayne Fields

Stare

Adam stood by his tenth story apartment window and stared at the woman across the road, their gaze locked as tight as lovers’ lips, their expressions as vacant as the honeymoon suite at Hotel Cholera.

Suddenly, two pigeons collided between them. Their beaks locked together and one tried to fly up while the other went down. Back and forth they went, the commotion resembling two mimes having a screaming match in a washing machine.

Adam’s mouth twitched.

His phone buzzed.

“Hello?”

“You smiled.”

“Dang it! How did you not?” He looked away and blinked his tired eyes.

“Another round?”

 


The Summer of Subtraction on Sixty-Six – Friday Fictioneers

copyright Jean L. Hays

copyright Jean L. Hays

The Summer of Subtraction on Sixty-Six

It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime ideas: five guys driving Route 66 from Chicago to LA.

Dennis didn’t even make it out of the gate. After a 5-hour delay, we said screw him.

Marcus fell hard for a greasy spoon waitress near Carthage, Missouri; named Dido, no less. After a bitter battle, we sailed, another man down.

Aziz got drunk and fell into Oologah Lake in Oklahoma. He was busted up so bad they had to air-lift him to Tulsa.

John got bad news about his grandfather and flew home from Albuquerque.

I drove on. Best summer of my life.


The Elephant's Trunk

🐘 Nancy is a storyteller, music blogger, humorist, poet, curveballer, noir dreamer 🐘

Thru Violet's Lentz

My view, tho' somewhat askew...

The New, Unofficial, On-line Writer's Guild

Aooga, Aooga - here there be prompts, so dive right in

Just Joyfulness

Celebrating joy

Tao Talk

You have reached a quiet bamboo grove, where you will find an eclectic mix of nature, music, writing, and other creative arts. Tao-Talk is curated by a philosophical daoist who has thrown the net away.

H J Musk

On reading, writing and everything in between ...

Clare Graith

Author, Near Future Sci-Fi

Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha

Musings and books from a grunty overthinker

Rolling Boxcars

Where Gaming Comes at you like a Freight Train

Lady Jabberwocky

Write with Heart

Fatima Fakier

Wayward Thoughts of a Relentless Morning Person

Life in Japan and Beyond

stories and insights from Japan

The Green-Walled Treehouse

Explore . Imagine . Create

One Minute Office Magic

Learning new Microsoft Office tricks in "just a minute"

lightsleeperbutheavydreamer

Just grin and bear it awhile

Linda's Bible Study

Come study God's Word with me!

Haden Clark

Philosophy. Theology. Everything else.

Citizen Tom

Welcome to Conservative commentary and Christian prayers from Mount Vernon, Ohio.

The Green-Walled Chapel

Writings on Faith, Religion and Philosophy

To Be A Magician

Creative writing and short stories

My music canvas

you + me + music

Eve In Korea

My Adventures As An ESL Teacher In South Korea

Luna's Writing Journal

A Place for my Fiction

Upper Iowa University

Center for International Education

Here's To Being Human

Living life as a human

jenacidebybibliophile

Book Reviewer and Blogger

yuxianadventure

kitten loves the world

Strolling South America

10 countries, 675 days, 38,540km

It's All in Finding the Right Words

The Eternal Search to Find One's Self: Flash Fiction and Beyond

Reflections Of Life's Journey

Lessons, Joys, Blessings, Friendships, Heartaches, Hardships , Special Moments

Ryan Lanz

Fantasy Author

Chris Green Stories

Original Short Fiction

Finding Myself Through Writing

Writing Habits of Elle Knowles - Author

BEAUTIFUL WORDS

Inspiring mental health through creative arts and friendly interactions. (Award free blog)

TALES FROM THE MOTHERLAND

Straight up with a twist– Because life is too short to be subtle!

Unmapped Country within Us

Emily Livingstone, Author

Silkpurseproductions's Blog

The art of making a silk purse out of a sow's ear.