Friday Fictioneers for February 11, 2022

Lover of all things purple (except maybe prose); historian and keeper of dark truths; maven of watercolor and drawings of life; sultry mistress with dominion over her tribe of scribes and Friday littérateurs of fantastic fiction; Madam Rochelle Wisoff-Fields has honored her humble servant by promotion to the elite order of photo contributors.

To wit, I must now contrive some presentable intrigue in fewer than 101 words, discounting this introduction, the preface (title, wordcount, and genre), and my additional postscript.

Click on “old blue” (or green) for a smooth ride on over to Rochelle’s place to glean other rules of literary engagement.

Photo by Bill Reynolds. Click on the truck for a ride on over to Rochelle’s place.

Genre: Texas Gothic
Title: Organic Disposal
Word Count: 100


I met her on the front porch. “Hi Furie, where’s Fenix?”

“She’s inside reading. I’m going to sit on that old rusty truck and write some Texas Gothic. It inspires me.”

“I noticed they moved it and put in a hog pen.”

I could see her wheels turning. “Right, Opa. You know, pigs and hogs are a great way to get rid of physical crime evidence. They’ll eat anything organic, including flesh and bone. And they can be trained to make life difficult for the Sheriff or some dingbat country cop.”

She smiled and waved as the Sheriff pulled up.

Look both ways for fact or fiction.
Mind the gaps and plot twists of creative teenage minds.


Click on “the girls” to discover more Friday Fictioneer stories.

69 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers for February 11, 2022

  1. Dear Bill,

    I’m blushing at that intro. Sultry? Love it. Thank you.
    As for your story…one of my very young coworkers shared that an icicle is also a great murder weapon. It melts, leaving no fingerprints. Or a frozen loaf of bread for blunt force trauma. I didn’t know about pigs, but I can tell you that chickens make most excellent garbage disposals.
    Texas Gothic is a new genre on me. Well done.



    Liked by 1 person

    1. Me too, Mason.
      The porch encounter is true. She was going to sit on the hood of that truck to write. And they did have to move the truck to make a space to raise the pigs. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Being true events makes the story all the more fun. I have a big tree in the woods close to my home. I love to go and climb it and then sit and write in the thick branches.

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Dale. It’s almost all true. The truck, pigs, my step-grand daughters, and she did go sit on the truck and write. They do write Texas Gothic stories.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I didn’t doubt it was true, for some reason. Didn’t think there actually WERE bodies once in the muck…
        Step-granddaughters, eh Opa?

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Yep. When our first granddaughter was in Belgium (where she lives), she called me “Opa in Amerika.” It’s like my name to them. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  2. A great tale Bill. You’re absolutely right about the pigs. We used to fatten them up when I was a young whipper snapper and they were fed all sorts of interesting things including pig swill, basically anything thrown out from restaurants, school dinners, food processing plants.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I’m learning a lot about things I possibly shouldn’t be learning about tonight reading through these responses. I actually managed to finish mine on an upbeat.
    Best wishes,

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Clever tale, Bill. When I was a youngster, we’d raise a couple of hogs a year to butcher. During furbearing season, my Dad would often throw possum carcasses in the hog pen. They disappeared fast.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. The intro and the story both made me smile. And now, I’m thinking of a smile like in the limerick: There once was a lady from Niger. That kind of smile. Maybe. 😉 Fun story and thanks so much for the great pick too!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s