For the first Friday (or is it Wednesday?) of this November in the year twenty-twenty-two, our Princes of Purple Passion and fantastic facilitator of fictioneers, her regal wonderfulness, Rochelle, has drawn and dealt to us a photo by Brenda Cox with which we are to stimulate our personal fictional muses to compose, each of their own, a story and all its parts within the lane lines of one-hundred words.
To check the map and find your way, click on Brenda’s pic for a ride into the center of Rochelle’s blog, where growing-up is optional and all the whys and wherefores a laid down. The first story of the week sets the example.
Genre: Clutch Fiction
Title: Run, Rabbit, Run
Word Count: 100
After killing the eighty-year-old PM, two morons, graduates of the Come and Take It Academy of Finer Creative Conspiracies, ran to the getaway car.
Louie said, “Great green color, Shell. Easy to find. You are smart.”
“I’m Shellby, Louie. Pass me the car key.”
Louie handed Shellby the key. The doors were locked. “Where’s the clicker thing?”
“Just use the key in the door handle.” When both doors were unlocked, they bumped heads getting in.”
“Uh oh, man. Unless you know how to drive a stick shift, we got a big problem. They didn’t teach clutching use at the academy.”
Look both ways.
As they say, see and be seen.
Mind the gaps and plan well for your great escape.
I cannot think of an escape without recalling this movie.