Upward Mobility – Friday Fictioneers

ben-gurion-airport-2

I could see a Samsung store, but the concourse was too crowded. There was no way I could get there… unless…?

I stepped on a gentleman’s shoulder, a bold move. He wasn’t happy about it, but before he could protest I stepped off his shoulder and onto an old lady’s head. She yelled “get off me, you twit!” I pressed on, stepping on someone’s baggage next and then onto a young mother nursing her child. She said, “What the hell are you doing,” to which I thought a mother shouldn’t be using that kind of language, but moved on without saying a word, lest I offend her.

Once at the Samsung store, I looked back at all the people who helped me get there, a monumental achievement I thought, but they looked angry.

And when I came out of the store, they were all gone. And so was my flight.

But at least I had my new phone.

——————————————————————————————————————————

I believe this is my worst offense yet at being over in word count. I apologize. I did edit it down from its original form, but honestly, there is no way William Faulkner ‘killed all his darlings’ either!  😉

Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories inspired by a photo that Rochelle Wisoff Fields posts every week.  This week’s photo courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Advertisements

Dawn In Carolina – Friday Fictioneers

vintage-kitchen-tools-valerie-barrett

The morning fatback sizzled in the pan as little bits of grease jumped and danced, burning her arms. She opened the window, letting the honeysuckle-kissed breeze in. She could hear cicada’s again, that meant her daughter would be turning thirteen years old, somewhere. Her daughter was an octoroon, so maybe she had a chance, wherever that somewhere was. She put her hands over her face at these thoughts of her daughter. The baby cooed in her cradle next to the sideboard and the woman went to her immediately, picking her up gently. “Shhhh, your momma’ll be up right soon,” she told the baby with a whisper, patting her softly on the back. Upstairs, the sounds of the baby’s mother and father rising began. And she took a deep breath, wondering if this day would be a good one, or a bad one.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories inspired by a photo that Rochelle Wisoff Fields posts every week.  This week’s photo courtesy of Valerie Barrett.

2,148 Local Area Residents Missing – Friday Fictioneers

belton-lap-pool

2,148 people are missing after a flash of white light appeared in the sky Tuesday. Area woman Whitney Miser captured the moment on film at Splasher’s pool. “One minute my son was doing the backstroke, and the next he was gone!” she told channel 7 news. “It’s coincidence I took the picture at the exact moment it happened.” She hopes the financial reward for the photo will make up for losing her son. Local resident Leonard Fibber reports every member of his church is missing, though he doubts it was the rapture as a big silver disc fell into his cow pasture the same day. “It’s a big’n,” Leonard says. “Big enough to hold all them people that’r missin’.” Channel 7 is unable to confirm this however, as Leonard has a big rifle and will not let us onto his property.

—————————————————————————————————————————Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories inspired by a photo that Rochelle Wisoff Fields posts every week.  This week’s photo courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Quiet Bias – Friday Fictioneers

roger-bultot-synagogue

I live across the street from a synagogue, and there are days when I can’t find anywhere to park—I drive around for 10 whole minutes looking sometimes! It’s ridiculous! I mean, it’s true the synagogue was here first, but sometimes the streets are simply too full. So I write notes, short messages, letting them know to park elsewhere. I put them on cars. And now they are crying ‘hate crime’! Imagine that! I mean, I love Israel just as any true American patriot would! And just last week I bought flowers from a colored boy on the street—he was one of the good ones, such a nice young man. So to say ‘hate crime’ is just ridiculous! I don’t know what those people think, but somehow I’d like to reclaim my street!


 

Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories inspired by a photo that Rochelle Wisoff Fields posts every week.  This week’s photo courtesy of Roger Bultot.

The Quite Timely Demise of Jack – Friday Fictioneers

cloister

The sun would be up soon, they needed to work faster. The ladies took turns spitting on the bundle when they finished weighing it down, “this is for Mary,” one said, kicking the reddening burlap.

“Alright, let’s get this to the river,” the tallest said. “And remember, we were working the whole night, each of us. Inspector Abberline can’t ever find out.”

It took all of them to carry the package from St George’s down to the Thames, a ten minute walk. And there Jack was dropped in without a word.

“That’s it, go home,” the tall girl said. “The streets will be safer for us tonight.”


Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories inspired by a photo that Rochelle Wisoff Fields posts every week.  This week’s photo courtesy of Roger Bultot.

Looming – Friday Fictioneers

FF sandras-loom

“If just one of these threads breaks, it disrupts the whole system,” The big man said.

Tommy knew he wasn’t talking about the loom, other people worked on the loom. Tommy was to have a different job.

The big man shoved the gun in his hand. “Here, it’s named after you,” the big man laughed, more rasp than voice, with an edge that sent a chill up Tommy’s spine.

“The factory is just for show, the real money comes from us, our work, and if one thread in our work breaks, we all go down, understand?”

Tommy nodded, sweating, thinking he’d rather just work the loom.


Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories inspired by a photo that Rochelle Wisoff Fields posts every week.  This week’s photo courtesy of Sandra Cook

 

The Spinner – Friday Fictioneers

macrocosm spinner ff.jpg

“Step right up! Enter the Macrocosm Spinner! See where you end up!”

“Oooo, honey, let’s go on this!” she said.

“I don’t…”

She finished his sentence by grabbing his hand and pulling him to the line, her smiling, him chagrined, he just reached for his wallet as always. He noticed that no passengers exited the cars, they only paid and entered.

“Where are the people?” he asked, but she had already stepped right up and was handing over the money.

When the doors to their car opened, there was nothing but cold black inside, a black so thick he felt like he could reach in and grab a handful of it. “Maybe we shouldn’t…” he started, but she took his hand, smiling even bigger, and pulled him inside.


Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories inspired by a photo that Rochelle Wisoff Fields posts every week.  This week’s photo courtesy of Dale Rogerson.

Ivory Thieves

Bear this in mind… I don’t write poetry. But there is something very poetic in this photo, and that something—whatever it is—inspired me this week.

——————————————————————————————————————————

ff piano

The dead of ivory gone

88 keys stripped bare

The white is their treasure

Not the music that soars emotion among heights and depths

Not the sonorous miracle peculiar to this ambitious creation

Not the woodwork that curves beautifully, gracefully strong

They want white whom can only lay lifeless, void of sound or joy on their own.

Those cold and finite thieves steal away the dead,

And leave the bones of the miraculous to grow new life.


Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories inspired by a photo that Rochelle Wisoff Fields posts every week.  This week’s photo courtesy of Anshu Bhojnagarwala

 

 

A Dog Is Man’s Best Friend – Friday Fictioneers

ce3

She knelt down fast, snagging her stockings on the old hard woods and swearing as she placed her cheek to the cold floor, “Tinky! Tinky-Kitty, where are you?” she said, peering under the sofa. Her heart beat faster and her cheeks flushed as she stood up and looked at the clock… already 15 minutes late! “Tinky!” she yelled. She rushed to her bedroom and snagged her other stockinged knee as she searched under the bed. “Tinky!” She screamed this time, sitting up and wiping cool beads of sweat from her brow.

Below the bedroom window, Tinky heard his name. But as he had already eaten breakfast, he settled himself on the back of her scooter for a nice relaxing morning nap.


Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories inspired by a photo that Rochelle Wisoff Fields posts every week.  This week’s photo courtesy of https://ceayr.com/ .

Field Trip – Friday Fictioneers

car ff

“Now, these did not fly,” the guide said. “They would roll the individual along the ground, which took time and used large amounts of fossil fuels, which polluted the environment…”

“God, these field trips are boring”, she whispered to her friend. “I’ve been to this planet every year since 3rd grade, and it’s always lame!”

Her friend giggled, “I know! I hate this place. I bet the humans died off out of sheer boredom! Plus it smells sooo bad!”

“You may notice the air is toxic, this is due to pollutants from the various fossil fuels,” the guide said.

The girls plugged their noses.

The guide went on, “It’s a perfect lesson on the importance of taking care of your environment. Now let’s visit a waste dump.”

The girls collectively rolled their eyes.


 

Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories inspired by a photo that Rochelle Wisoff Fields posts every week.  This week’s photo courtesy of Ted Strutz .