Friday Fictioneers – A Tale of Conquest

21 03 2013

Hi folks, back again for another stab at making a worthwhile contribution to the melange of prose that is the Friday Fictioneers. 100 words or thereabouts based on a photo prompt, all ably organised by the indefatigable Rochelle.

(c) Doug MacIlroy

A Tale of Conquest

Ask any elite performer – retirement sucks.

When you’re forced out at the top of your game, you inevitably feel unfulfilled. Regardless of fame, there’s always the sense of never having finished your career if you miss out on The Big One. When I stood there and watched as my three brothers galloped away into the distance, it was just gut-wrenching. But what’s a horse to do?

So here I stand, brilliant white coat faded to grey, dreaming of what might have been.

Oh, by the way, my original name was Conquest, but you might know me better as Pestilence.

= = = = = = = = = = =

Authors Note: According to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s excellent book Good Omens, Pestilence was forced into retirement in 1936 after the invention of penicillin, and was replaced by Pollution.






Friday Fictioneers – Found

14 03 2013

Hello all. Welcome to another Friday Fictioneer bonanza. 100 words based on a photo prompt. Far too many entries to read and comment on I expect, but I promise I’ll try and do better this week. If you’d like to know more, visit Rochelle and she’ll tell all.

(c) Lora Mitchell

Found

Catherine stared in abject horror at the flowers, heart pounding. The Limardi family always sent white lilies before a hit. After eighteen months, and three different safe houses, they had found her, and wanted her to know they were coming.

With trepidation, she uncurled her clenched fist and stared at the florist’s card.

Card

With a quiet sob she let the crumpled card fall to the carpet.

In a strange way it was a relief when the door buzzer sounded. She calmly opened the door. It was not quite who she expected.

“Aunt Lily!!”







Friday Fictioneers – A Late Night Tale

7 03 2013

Hello all you lovely people! Time for another dose of Friday Fiction, a wonderful opportunity to try out new ideas, themes and styles in a 100 word composition based on a photo prompt. If you’d like to know more, visit Rochelle’s blog. Join in, it’s fun and sometimes even educational!

This week I have mostly been thinking about long-distance hiking. But enough of that, read on … if you dare.

(c) Jennifer Pendergast

A Late Night Tale For Those That Like That Sort Of Thing

Ring-a-ring o’ roses.

The sound of a young child singing echoed down the wide stone stairwell. I edged cautiously upwards, hand sliding along the icy metal handrail. The light crackled, flickered and died.

In total darkness I flattened myself against the wall, hands pressed against cold stone.

The singer started to descend the staircase, edging ever closer. I held my breath and prayed that my pounding heart wouldn’t give me away.

Suddenly the light returned, driving away the shadows. Of the singer, there was no sign. But the last notes of the song lingered in the air.

All fall down.







Friday Fictioneers – Surprise!

1 03 2013

Hello again from grey, cold West Dorset. I’m not a winter person, I’m really looking forward to the return of the sun and a bit of warmth! You’ll be pleased to hear that I’ve finished painting the local library, and so hopefully will get a bit more time to read all your wonderful stories this week.

So, without further ado, here is my latest contribution to Friday Fictioneers – 100 words of fiction related to a photo prompt. Have a go!

Copyright Beth Carter

 

Surprise!

After risking my life night after night in a freezing B-17 over Nazi Germany, I thought I deserved a decent homecoming. All I got was a surprise Dear John letter taped to the door.

She’d taken everything: my furniture, my car, my memories. All she left was a pile of rusty junk out back.

I suppose I’m lucky to be alive; but I’ve got no job. I still have my old house; but no girl.

So here I sit, with my pile of rusty junk. Piecing it together bit by bit. Building myself a patchwork car for my patchwork life.