Category: writing

Friday has rolled around, the Fictioneers under the auspices of Rochelle Wisoff Fields and wth photo prompt provided by C.E.Ayr compete to present a story, beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less.

A quick search of history provided this information, Sep 1 Future Baseball Hall of Fame 1st baseman Lou Gehrig hits his 3rd grand slam in 4 days & 6th homer in consecutive games in NY Yankees’ 5-1 win v Boston Red Sox

And here we go: September 2, 1931

The door knob! The pain! Ranger shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs.

“What the?” Nothing was right. The derelict house was new painted, the lawn mowed, fence intact. He shook his head again.

Looking toward Main Street, it wasn’t HIS Main Street. “Where am I?”

“I’ve seen cars like that. Ah, Grans living room!”

He saw a boy race by, carrying a newsbag filled with papers.

“Hey Jock, you’re late! Lou Gehrig hit another grandslam. Can you believe it?”

And Ranger remembered. He lived here, so long ago.

He grabbed his glove and ran.

Friday the 13th

From a photo prompt a story in 100 words or less is the challenge. Here is mine in less than 80 words.

“Dare you!” Ranger yelled, racing along the picket fence to the corner. “Scaredy-cat!”

The taunts hit Jarod like licks to the gut, he knew he had to do it. Ranger raced back, shoving Jarod to the gate.

Slowly, Jarod pushed the gate open, sidling to the porch and up the stairs. As he pushed the door open, bright light flashed and he disappeared.

“Ha!” snapped Ranger, “Another one! I wonder where they go?”

Much has been said over the past week about playing the ‘woman card’.

Today’s news showed us the one ostensibly carried by a political candidate. I found it to be lacking, but that is just my humble opinion.

A friend mentioned we all could use one, listing some of the attributes we feel make us who we are. After all, we are lifetime members of the unique guild.

And then, why not a ‘Man Card’ for the rest of the world? Let’s not be guilty of bigotry, all lives matter!

I present mine here: One of my photos and a few words, quite simple.

the woman card

What would your card say?

Once again, the charming Rochelle, path finder extrordinaire, has issued a map, the challenge for Friday Fictioneers.  This week the prompt is from one of my photos.

Here, in 100 words, is my little walk in the park. Lane and Jemma have appeared before and seemed to want to wander back.

Wedding Dress

Arrive Taras. gHOST TOWN 092

“Thirty five cents a yard,” The clerk was impatient. Leaving Jemma looking at the calico print, he turned to another customer.

Jemma glanced again at the ready made dresses hanging  in the rafters. Oh, to have twelve dollars to spend.

After all, it was a wedding dress!

Lane had offered  half his pay, ten dollars, but they needed that for the new house and she must have dishes, pots and pans.

Teaching school for fifteen dollars a month and board would not  stretch enough.

Counting carefully, she sighed, “I’ll take seven yards.”

“That will be $2.45”.


Other players have taken different paths, to see where they went click here.


Once again, Wednesday has arrived, and with it our fearless ringmaster, Rochelle has donned her red coat and top hat, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls”, she announces with a crack of her whip. Issuing the challenge to join her at the circus known as Friday Fictioneers. Under her discipline we climb to the high wire to present a story in approximately 100 words.

Other acrobats have posted, their back-flips and somersaults can be found here:


ff4-15-15 kent Bonham

This week’s picture courtesy of Kent Bonham led me down a path that my grandson walks each day.

Brett is autistic, although reading and writing are skills he has not mastered in his 21 years, he can speak, articulating some of the effects of his condition.

April is Autism Awareness Month. I dedicate this little tale to Brett and all who deal with Autism, in its many guises. Maybe it will raise awareness a bit as well. I can hope.


Sound Prison

“Sensory overload” the therapist calls it, “meltdown” in layman’s terms.

People gather around, invading the circle of ‘personal space’, gesturing, talking.

Afraid to approach.

But too near and too loud for the boy.

No matter what, he hears it all. There are no filters.

No way to block the beating

The words have form and substance, invisible,battering.

They swirl around, floating shapes, sweeping in, crushing.

Rhythms pound, hammers in his mind.

Varied tones stab like knives.

He has to close it off! It has to stop!

And so, he sits on the floor, rocking.

Withdrawn, locked in his alternate universe,

Forced to submission by the weaponry of sound.

This week’s Friday Fictioneers Challenge is brought to us by Rochelle Wisoff Fields and I really recommend you go to to read the rules and find out more about our quest to tell a story in 100 words or close to it.

This week the photo is provided by J. Hardy Carroll and a sinister and mocking photo it seems to be…ff 2016-04-08 J Hardy Carroll

A Touch of Terror

Sarah stared through the veil of trees at the dark empty eyes of the old hotel.

Years ago, the center of the town, dinner and dancing, one night stands.

She’d heard the stories, Gyp had told them often enough.

He’d seen it, the fire, the bodies, so many lost!

Old man, trying to frighten the young with ghosts!

Foolishness! All the dead are long buried, fifty years gone!

She knew better, sure of herself, she moved forward.

A cold hand touched her arm, or was it just a branch?

She turned, shrieking, ran.

I might have hit a record, my tale is a mere 91 words.

To read more stories and see where the photo takes other minds click here:

Fellow Fictioneers, Lupus has raised its ugly head this week, fogged brain, pain, recalcitrant joints. Will try to read and at least ‘like’ all the posts.


It’s once again time for another exciting episode of Friday Fictioneers. The challenge to write a story in approximately 100 words. Our great hostess is Rochelle, follow this link to read other entries and play along.

The prompt is a photo by Marie Gail Stratford.

ff3-31-16 Marie Gail Stratford

I have to admit, this week the challenge was pretty difficult. But I finally managed to tell my story in exactly 100 words.

Thunk, thunk, the chopper blades rattle, our bird comes in over the street.

“There, Charlie, that’s our target.”

“Ray, can you get down? I don’t have a clear shot.”

Turbulence rocks the chopper as Ray tries to bring us lower between the buildings.

“Charlie, they’re on the move, hurry!”

“A little more, I can’t get it!”

The chopper tilts at an angle.

“I got them, Ray!”

A magazine slaps into place, perfect shot, thumb to automatic, press the trigger!

“Charlie Counts, CRCT, here with a live report on the suspects fleeing down Elm Street.”




Today’s photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers is brought to us by the talented and sagacious Rochelle.

The goal is to write a ‘story’, beginning, middle, end, in 100 words more or less.

Several thoughts ran through my head when I saw it. Maybe in yours as well?

Ideas from other folks can be found by clicking here:

“Beauty in Ashes”

Coming home, done with a late night shift, she drove past the burned out hulk. Finally, demolition is in progress.

Appliances, fixtures, boards and tiles, scattered debris, stark and ugly, waited for pick-up.

Remains of someone’s home to be carried away.

Nostalgic and a bit melancholy, as she is this sunny morning.

The workers have not yet arrived to finish the job.

The sorting, recycling still to be done.

Impulsive, she stops and places a flat of bright pansies in the empty commode.

A simple gesture that brings a smile.

Hope is planted.


It’s Friday once again and time for another great episode of Friday Fictioneers brought to us by a photo prompt  from Sandra Cook. For more information and the ‘rules’ you can go here:

That is also the location to find links to other stories.


FF 2016-02-19.png


“What’s that?” asked Kam.

The object spun and danced in the still air, turning the weak sunlight to sparkling rainbows. A soft shushing sound seemed to come from the center.

“I dunno!” Jacko moved, reaching toward it. The sound louder now, a singing Siren song as he approached.

“Stop! Stop!” Kam tried to yell over the wild music.

“I can get it! I will!” he cried, mesmerized by flashing light

“No!” Kam screamed as Jacko touched the spinning circle.

One touch, Jacko faded into nothingness and Kam stood alone in the oppressive silence.


(98 words)


Recently a college student contacted me. She needed a ‘Senior Citizen’ for an interview in one of her classes and I agreed.

I was telling the daughters about this. One of them said something about how did the girl define “senior Citizen”. That gave me a moment of thought. In our little community, I counted 5 people who are ‘older’ than I am, there are 7 or 8 in my age group, everyone else is a good bit younger.

She brought out a copy of the interview protocol, I read it over and still agreed. THe protocol asks for a biography and some of the major world/national events you remember. Due to distances and time constraints, I offered to start answering the questions and type up my responses before we do the actual interview later this week.

I really expected I would have maybe four pages. Well, I was wrong! I have ELEVEN pages typed up, and am not through yet.

When I think of  all the events that have happened, all the new technologies that have come into play? Hard to believe all this has occurred in my lifetime.

Oh, my I was just reminded of something else! Back to the typing!