Friday Fictioneers for May 13th, 2022

Today is Friday Fictioneers’ photo prompt release day, posted two days prior to Friday the thirteenth, an inauspicious Gregorian calendar arrangement in the superstitious minds of many.

Central to Mistress Rochelle’s well-chosen pic from the artistic eye of our friend to the north, Dale Rogerson, is a red rose. “O my Luve’s like a red, red rose/That’s newly sprung in” May; is partly from the famous Robert Burns poem.

What can one do with the flower of love on the most traditional day of western bad luck? My go is below Dale’s photo. My gratitude to both wonderful, bonnie lasses for giving direction to this week’s micro-fiction collection.

Click on Dale’s red rose for a ride over to Rochelle’s rockin’ blog for how it’s done.

Genre: Padded Journalism
Title: Guns and Roses
Word Count: 100

The blonde was his beauty. He was her beloved beast. They struck out for freedom armed with guns and motivated by love.

“We’ll never blend in, Casey. You’re too tall.”

“Vicky, look! It’s them laws. Let’s die like Bonnie and Clyde. We’ll be famous.”

“But dead as hell. Drive fast, Babe. If they get close, they’ll flip us.”

There was a loud bump. Casey’s driving skills failed to keep them from the grassy Indiana ditch.

Her last words were, “I love you, Babe. See you in hell. They could have at least waited until Friday.”

A gunshot, then cops everywhere.


Look both ways when on the run in the Alabama sun.
Mind the gaps and ditches.
Keep in mind that at six-foot-nine, you’re not that hard to find.

Click on Casey & Vicky for your risk free ride to more marvelous stories.

Friday Fictioneers for May 6th, 2022

Na’ama Yehuda’s lovely flower garden picture posted by the incomparable Rochelle, mistress of pools of water and writers was both inspirational and challenging. A rose by any other name is a tulip, even on Friday Fictioneers, right?

 

Click on the flowers to get more info from Rochelle’s. The PHOTO PROMPT by © Na’ama Yehuda.

Genre: Murderous Fiction
Title: I never promised you a
rose tulip garden
Words: 100

We were so much in love, hotly in lust, blindly infatuated—the perfect couple. I decided I could trust him with my biggest secrets. We just clicked.

“Hey Babe, I need to tell you one more thing.”

“Oh, Sweetheart, you can tell me anything. Without trust, there’s no us.”

“I worked as a hooker when I lived in Reno.”

“Okay, Love…that’s over now.”

“I also shot a man there just to watch him die.

“You did what? You’re a murderer? We need to get that mess cleaned up.”

“I’ll be packing tonight. Don’t worry about me leaving. I’m already gone.”


Look both ways to see that no one is perfect, everyone makes mistakes, we can only be who we are. Mind those gaps so you don’t forget that your truth may be none of my business.

***

My story was musically inspired by: (I Never Promised You A) Rose Garden by Lynn Anderson, Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash, and Already Gone (also maybe the line, And there’s some rumors going round, someone’s underground from Witchy Woman) by Eagles (sic).

Click on the flower gun to link up with more marvelous stories by the Friday Fibbers cast.

Friday Fictioneers for April 8th, 2022

Today the ever lovely and charming Mistress of Mystery and lover of history and animals, Madam Rochelle, teamed up with David Stewart to serve up a delicious challenge which she prompted from her recliner throne surrounded by things important to her.

My 100-story follows the prompt photo. Is yours here?

 

click on red land line (or anywhere) in the PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart to go check out Rochelle’s blog for the latest menu.

Genre: Breakfast Fiction
Title: I Got You, Babe
Word Count: 100

They had told me there was another man. She’d soon be leaving me. I’d catch them in the act and kill them, then myself.

I parked a block away, planning to catch them having breakfast. I cautiously entered Big Al’s Restaurant. I saw two meals without coffee. Did she give it up for him? Probably a Mormon.

Her voice, “Hi Babe. Eggs sunny side up, right? Just like you, bright and sunny. I had to get our coffee. Did you drop the kids off? I’m working on that writing prompt you told me about.”

I decided to delay my plan.


Look both ways for drama in your life.
Mind the gaps for reasons to commit fictional crimes
if you are indeed a writer of such.

Click on the wayward children to read other flash stories.

Friday Fictioneers for April 1st, 2022

Sheriff of the Friday Fictioneer’s photo-prompted story telling tribe, the legendary Mistress Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, dons her purple Converse All Stars, the color of the brave, and leads her army of writing spirits into another battle with our hidden, internal creative imaginations in the face narrative challenges armed with only one hundred words. Today she teams with a Roger Bulot prompt photo of an urban scene for us to draw our pens and to drum on our keyboards as we begin our final March march of extraordinaire flash fictioneering into April.

Click on the PHOTO PROMPT by © Roger Bultot to taxi on over to Rochelle’s fabulous footwear and curly hair care blog to get the straight skinny on how to join up with these crazy cats.

Genre: Funny Fiction
Title: A Big Lie
Word Count: 100

***

“Gregor, why dem kicks up dare?”

“Dem’s cuz last night was second new years eve, Julie. Ya makes a wish and trows up yer J-jays”

“Second new years? Never heard ‘bout dat. Today is second new years day?”

“Oui, bae. Today use’ta was new years till dey changed calendars, yers to myin.”

“We had our own calendars? Cool! Ima gunna trow deez old sneaks up for good luck.”

“Dems yer all-stars, Jules.”

Barefoot Julie hung her shoes, first try. “Now, we have lots-a luck. Happy new years.”

“Yeppers, bae. Same. Taday also been April fool’s day fer near five-hundred years.”


Look both ways and practice wise skepticism this Friday.
Mind the gaps for a joke or a hoax.

Click on the Cabernet Sauvignon infused Jordan to read other fine fiction.

Gloss: (if you need it) April Fools’ Day goes back to 1582. France switched from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar, ala the Council of Trent in 1563. People slow to get the news or failed to start a new year on 1 January and continued to celebrate it during the last week of March through April 1 became the butt of jokes and hoaxes. Pranks included having paper fish placed on their backs and being referred to as poisson d’avril (April fish), said to symbolize a young, easily hooked fish and a gullible person.

Friday Fictioneers for March 25th, 2022

Our Friday Fictioneers Mistress Rochelle has conjured up an inspirational prompt photo of her own, which sent my muse back to the beginning of it all. My story follows Rochelle’s picture.

Click on the photo prompt (© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields) for a magic carpet ride to Rochelle’s purple palace.

 


Genre: Travel Fiction
Title: You Again?
Word Count: 100

***

I saw the snake, backed away, and warned Sarff.

“Is it poisonous?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

A feminine voice said, “I’m not poisonous.”

Sarff said, “A talking snake. How cool. What’s your name?”

“I’m Petra. You’ll be okay. Just watch your step.”

I said, “Snakes can’t talk. It’s a trick.”

“You’re such a skeptic, Ormr. Read the Bible,” said Sarff.

Petra said, “The pomegranates at the top of the hill are yummy this time of year.”

As we climbed up. Sarff said, “Thanks. I love pomegranates.”

I said, “It’s forbidden to eat the fruit here.” They laughed at me.


Look both ways when reading fact or fiction.
Mind the gaps for hidden serpents.

Click on the pomegranate bush to read more inspired stories.

Friday Fictioneers for March 18th, 2022

Throughout history, Anonymous has produced some of the best known and loved poetry, art, crime, and mystery. Also, cadavers (aka, John Doe) and AA members.

I’ve considered publishing my next book (also my first) under the Anonymous nom de plume to benefit from his/her/their great success and notoriety. Sometimes, events in my life made me want to be that person: Anonymous.

Today, Her Royal Craftiness, The Princess of Prevarication, Mistress of History, and Duchess of the Storied Squares, Madame Rochelle Wisoff-Fields has teamed with the formerly unknown, but now revealed, Brenda Cox, photo contributor to tempt us into the gated domain of Friday Fictioneers story telling.

Click the pic for a fantasy ride to Rochelle’s castle to learn how to play by her rules. Can you tell your story in one hundred words or fewer? Try it if you dare.

Prompt photo by Brenda Cox. One click away from the Rochelle’s purple world.

Genre: Dark Fiction
Title: My New Home
Word Count: 100

***

Vlad was my goth-looking guide into the witness protection program. As we approached the old ramshackle house I asked, “What is that horrible smell?”

“That’s cadaverine. We spray the perimeter with the ptomaine to keep people away. Only harpies and vampire groupies like it. The death odor attracts buzzards but keeps cartel soldiers, nosey lawmen, and reporters away. You’ll get used to it.”

When I opened the gate, I was struck by the sweet odors of hyacinth and incense. I saw the casket and glared at Vlad.

“Appearances. Protecting people like you is dangerous. Living quarters are underground. Welcome home.”


Look both ways.
Be alert doing good or evil.
Mind the gaps for major life changes.

***

The vampire mansion is a hotlink to inlinkz and more mico-fiction stories.

Friday Fictioneers for March 11, 2022

Star aquatic endurance athlete and mistress of the micro-fiction, flash-splash, Friday on Wednesday, the magnifico Rochelle has paired with Lisa Fox to push a prompt for our creative muses to produce 100 words or fewer, from a genre of our choosing, and to write a story for the world to read.

Click on Lisa’s photo to fly over to Rochelle’s Purple Maze and get read-in on the top-secret life of global fictioneers. My story follows the prompt pic.

PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox (click for Rochelle’s blog page)

Genre: Spy Fiction
Title: It’s a Living
Word Count: 100

***

“That’s it, Ted. The ad said five hundred a month.”

Bill pointed toward the house, “Interesting antennas. The owners are either aliens or spies. Nice metal roof though. The wooden one burned when the old lab exploded. They’ve added electrical and plumbing.”

“It needs to look like the lab’s back. We’ll piggyback with the comm towers on the house. Nobody suspects a counter intel op in an old garage slash meth kitchen.”

“I’ll go sign the lease. You call in and arrange equipment delivery for tomorrow night. Forecast thunderstorms will provide cover. Spies spying on spies. Hell, it’s a living.”


Look both ways with skeptical eyes.
Mind the gaps in all intelligence.

Click on the CIA floor logo to link up with more fun stories.

***

I need to watch this movie, don’t cha think?

Friday Fictioneers for March 4th, 2022

Mistress Rochelle is on a twisted tantrum with tilted photos and pictures of leaning towers in the swamplands of Italy. If this photo, supplied by Anne Higa, inspires you to write a story on the straight and vertical, click on the Pisa Plaza picture to gondola over to the Maven of Purple (Rochelle) for the rules and regulations and how to post your square right over there.

My unholy semi-fib follows the photo.

Click the PHOTO PROMPT © Anne Higa to open Rochelle’s blog page.

 


Genre: Historical Fiction
Title: Holy Land for Pisa
Word Count: 100

***

“Drudo, tomorrow we sail for the Holy Land.”

“Good, Gotto. I’m sick of this damn tower. The world isn’t impressed. Every tower in town leans. Merda!”

“We’ll return with holy cargo from Calvary in Jerusalem for this Square of Miracles. Pisa will be famous. The excursion is funded with riches we took from Sicily.”

“We’ll never be known for our towers, Gotto. What bounty shall make us heroes?”

Gotto grinned. “Fifty-three shiploads of dirt.”

Drudo whines, “We battle for riches. We spend blood-won bounty on shiploads of dirt for a cemetery in a swamp. The tower is a better idea.”


Look both ways.
Historical truth need not make sense.
Mind the gaps in the foundations of towers.
Fame comes as much from failure as from success.
(It could have happened like that.)

Click on Superman straightening the tower to read other creative stories.

About one year after his birth, Galileo was baptized in the Pisa Baptistry of the Square of Miracles in 1565. And yes, it is historical fact. 53 shiploads of dirt from the Hill at Calvary in Jerusalem for the cemetery.

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.

Friday Fictioneers: January 28, 2022

Rockin’ Rochelle tempted me with another of her personal pics to inspire this Friday Fictioneer micro-fantasy. In keeping with my bad boy image, I decided to make it a deal.

Click on her foodie (prompt) photo to buzz on over to her place for the good stuff.

Click the PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for a trip to Rochelle’s blog.

Genre: Micro-Fiction
Title: Family Business
Word Count: 100

I’d had a good day at the restaurant. I met some sweet ice and tips were awesome. I decided to visit Cowboy on the way home.

When he opened the door, “Hey Cowboy. How’z it hangin’, Kemosabe?”

He looked both ways. “Don’t call me that. It means idiot. Get in here. Cash only until this virus shit is done. You got green?”

I smiled, waving two bills. “My green for yours, amigo. What you got fer me?”

Someone banged on the door. “Open up. Police.”

I said, “Well, fuck!”

Cowboy said, “Nah. It’s my cousin. The man don’t never knock.”


Look both ways and learn the ropes, cliché or not.
Mind the gaps and lock the door.

***

Click on Matthew McConaughey in “White Boy Rick” for transport to all the fantastic fiction you’ll ever want to read, in a flash.