Tag Archives: Friday Fictioneers
copyright Jan Wayne Fields
The booth clung to the edge of the fairground like a leech. The owner sat alone, swiping at a futuristic-looking tablet.
“Whadya got?” I asked.
He stood, flashing me a shark grin. “Novelties from lost places.” He proffered a small box. “From the Garden of Eden. Real apple wood.”
I rummaged through the items. “Lost places? Really?” I held up a hat marked CALIFORNIA.
He glanced at his watch. It had no time, just the year: 2020.
“How’d that get in there?” His shark grin widened as he shoved the hat behind him. “Now, how about a T-shirt from Atlantis?”
13 Comments | tags: Atlantis, California, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Garden of Eden, souvenir, time travel | posted in Dusk, Friday Fictioneers
The door closes, coffin-like. The interior is stifling. I’ve trained years for this moment, braving broken bones and lost hair.
A muffled thump and I’m airborne. I’m tumbling freely until I can work the controls enough to level out.
Impact. I’m slammed mercilessly into the unforgiving sides.
Light streams in. Assistants help me outside to wild cheers. I survey the scorched field strewn with other fridges. I’ve gone two lengths further than the Chinese fridge.
My gold medal for the Fridge Nuke around my neck, I go explore the rest of the Hyperbolympics. Maybe I’ll check out the shark jumping.
In case you’re wondering about the inspiration:
Jumping the Shark
Nuking the Fridge
41 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, gold medal, Hyperbolympics, jump the shark, nuke the fridge, Olympics | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light
I am sitting in a hotel room in downtown Hanoi in Vietnam with rain misting outside. Since I didn’t have any meetings today and I happen to be 12 hours ahead of my usual timezone, I decided to write a Friday Fictioneers story right as the prompt was released. This is actually the third story I wrote before I could get one to 100 words. I’ll post the others later.
copyright Roger Bultot
By the time we arrived, the pulpy flesh spattering the walls had begun to harden. The stench of smashed strawberries and fear hung in the air with the flies.
The other berries were scared to talk until a lemon pointed us towards the watermelons. We got a warrant to roll them; my partner retched at the carnage we uncovered.
It was a gang hit. The Amesti family was making a move on the upper shelf and the bigger Allsweets struck back. Two of them were sentenced to suikawari. That’s just life—and death—in the jungle of the Farmer’s Market.
40 Comments | tags: Allsweet, Amesti, detective story, farmers' market, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, gangster, murder, noire, strawberry, watermelon | posted in Dusk, Friday Fictioneers
copyright Dale Rogerson
If you’re going to connect your robotic theater to the Internet, make the password more creative than shakespeare123. It took me ten minutes to hack it.
My mother told me not to cause trouble. She also told me to create art. You can see my dilemma.
It started small, like making Hamlet declare “To pee or not to pee,” then changing every instance of “cat” to “pig” in a certain musical. To be fair, Pigs was sold out for six months.
They caught me eventually, after I added a techno remix to Phantom. The good news I’m on salary now.
17 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, hacking, Hamlet, humor, musicals, robots, theater | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light
Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
“I’ll have the ghost pepper pie,” I said.
The waitress’s expression was that of a cop approaching a rooftop jumper. The words Are you sure? crouched unsaid on her lips.
I glanced out at the bleak Alberta winterscape. The meteorologists were rejoicing at the mid-February heatwave as the mercury rocketed up to -20.
“I just need a little heat in my life,” I whispered.
Twenty minutes later, my mouth was ablaze and sweat poured off me like a monsoon. I closed my eyes and imagined Cancun.
The manager noticed. The next week, they were advertising Mexican vacations, $4.99 a slice.
25 Comments | tags: Alberta, Cancun, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, ghost pepper, humor, restaurant, winter | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light
Happy New Year, even if we are almost a month into it already. In the world of international admissions, this is a very busy time of the year, with students coming in for the spring semester. It’s my job to keep track of them and get them registered and set up with everything they need, while still processing applications that are coming in for next fall. But everyone who is coming for this semester is here, so hopefully things will quiet down a little. I hope to be back as much as I can.
copyright Na’ama Yehuda
Hey, You Never Know
I wrote my number on the napkin and reached forward to drop it on the tray of the cutie in 12B. She didn’t look back.
Then I got a text. Who’s this?
13C. Winking emoji.
A minute later: Can I have your Haagen-Dazs? The flight attendant had just gone through, distributing the little cartons of heaven.
I hesitated, then slid the frozen treasure onto her tray.
So, what do I get? I audaciously added a kissing emoji.
My husband might kiss you. He’s in 12A.
I sighed and called the attendant. “Another napkin,” I said sadly. “Plain white.”
12B snickered.
I was actually on a flight that had these napkins. Luckily no one gave me their number.
7 Comments | tags: airplane, Delta, fiction, flirting, flying, Friday Fictioneers, funny, Haagen-Dazs, humor, Ice cream, napkin | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light
“So, who else should be in the club?”
“What about Chad?” I suggested.
Marcus choked.
“Chad?” he shouted. “Chad Shermanburger? Investigated-by-the-FBI Chad? Started-a-forest-fire-testing-his-homemade-rocket-fuel Chad? Brought-a-baby-cougar-to-school Chad? Sold-his-own-version-of-the-Nobel-Prize-online-sparking-outcry Chad? You want Chad freaking Shermanburgar, who somehow sneaked aboard Air Force Two and met the vice president to join the Adventurers’ Club?”
I gulped. “Not at all. I meant Chad . . . Parsons.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Looking back, I should have stuck to my guns. Chad Parsons was boring.
36 Comments | tags: Adventurers' Club, Air Force Two, baby cougar, FBI, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, funny, Nobel Prize, rocket fuel, vice president | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light
copyright Linda Kreger
“Come on, team!” Larry bellowed. “There’s no “I” in Sisyphean!”
“There’s a ‘y’ though,” I said, ignoring the fact that there obviously was an “i”. “As in, why should we try?”
“I’ve got a good feeling about today,” he said, just like every day.
We sighed and started shoving the rock. “That’s it!” Larry screamed as we approached the top. “You’re almost there. Three more feet!”
Ryan slipped. The rock crashed back down.
“Good effort, team,” Larry said. “Let’s break for lunch and try again this afternoon. Just stay positive. At least we’re out here getting exercise, unlike Team Prometheus.”
The Mythological Punishment Olympics is a pretty depressing spectacle. Here are some of the teams in contention:
Team Sisyphus
Team Prometheus
Team Ixion
Team Erysichthon
Team Tantalus
Team Danaïdes
26 Comments | tags: fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Greek mythology, humor, Prometheus, Sisyphus, team, teambuilding | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light
“How do you plead?”
“Not guilty, your Honor.”
“You were caught stealing 200 feet of wiring from a house.”
“I’m an electrician. I went there to install it, but I have this unusual problem. I sometimes get caught in a reverse time wave. I’m seeing a physicist about it.”
“You were caught trying to steal $150,000 from a bank fifteen years ago.”
“I was there to deposit it. Inheritance from a rich uncle.”
“Sure. The trial is set two weeks from today, no bail. If you’re telling the truth, you’ll walk out of the jail long before then, I’m sure.”
23 Comments | tags: arraignment, court, criminal, electrician, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, humor, judge, theft, time reversal, time travel | posted in Light
Jimmy rushed to the airport from his night shift at the I-20 overpass. He took the architecture entrance, trying not to step on any early morning commuters in his haste.
“About friggin’ time,” Tommy muttered, the third shift A15 pillar on Concourse D. They carefully switched places. Pillaring wasn’t exciting, but it was steady work for those cursed to be 100 feet tall.
Jimmy awoke to tiny screams. He was on his knees, the roof sagging above him. He’d smashed the Gate 24 United counter. Again.
He ordered a ventimila* from Starbucks. This was going to be a long day.
*ventimila: 20,000 ounces (about 156 gallons)
42 Comments | tags: airport, coffee, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, giant, humor, job, sleepy, Starbucks | posted in Friday Fictioneers, Light
The Green-Walled Tower 