THE MEETING

Posted on January 3, 2016 by hafong

It is Sunday of the new year. I’m a little late for the ball but what the heck. Better late than not showing up. So here’s my story for the Friday Fictioneers. We are storytellers of 100 words or so. We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. Here’s this week’s photo prompt.

She saw the coffee shop as soon as she emerged from the subway station. It was exactly where he had said. She stood for a moment then walked to the door. It was now or never.

She scanned the room quickly. The faces were all blurry. Her breath was ragged and her heart thumped.

“Slow down. Take your time.” She scolded herself.

“May I help you?” A waitress came up.

“I’m meeting someone.”

“Do you want to walk through to see?”

“Thank you. I don’t know what he looks like. I haven’t met him before.”

The waitress raised her eyebrows.

EYES AND SECRETS

Posted on December 17, 2015 by hafong

Another week, another story as Friday Fictioneers gather here to tell the tales of 100 words. Our host is Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. Thanks for this week’s photo prompt, Rochelle. I love windows and kitchens. Kitchens are good places for story telling.

PHOTO PROMPT- © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

If the eyes are the window into the soul, windows are the eyes into the universe for her. She loves sitting here in the mornings. The world is still asleep but the darkness is lifting. First a faint grey, then a haze of soft buttery yellow. Now the orange is streaking through.

The kettle is whistling. A breeze comes in the window. Contentment sighs through her. She makes her tea and takes it over to the table. She gathers her pens and pads. She is ready. Ready and willing to tell the story. The drama, lies and all the secrets.

ON THE BLOCK

Posted on December 11, 2015 by hafong

So here it is, another Friday, time for Friday Fictioneers. I’m slow to show this week. Such a busy schedule being retired and all! But here I am with my 100 words. We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. We like to tell tales according to a photo prompt.

PHOTO PROMPT © Luther Siler

Two pairs of arms lifted her up, one at her shoulders, the other at her feet. She was light as a feather. What was happening? She felt limp. Her head was all fuzzy.

She felt the arms lowering her. It wasn’t soft, that’s for sure. It wasn’t wide either. She felt her arms dangling down both sides. Oh, yes, she was in the OR for her surgery.

“I feel like a slab of meat!” She giggled.

Blurry faces in green masks loomed above her. “It’ll be over soon” She recognized her doctor’s voice. “Start counting to ten.” Said another. One…

LEAVING CITY LIGHTS

Posted on December 4, 2015 by hafong

It’s Friday and time for another story for Friday Fictioneers. We like to tell our stories in 100 words or so. We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. You can join in the fun if you are so inclined. It’s very therapeutic for letting off steam. Here is my story according to the photo prompt below.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

He turned his back to the city. Straightening his head and shoulders, he zipped up his jacket. There! He was done.

He had enough of the city lights. Enough of the glaring and angry eyes. Who did they think they were anyways? Treated him like shit. Kicked and spat on. Worse than a dog. Thought he hadn’t noticed. Well, he HAD.

Now it was their turn. See how they like that. He chuckled under his breath. He turned the key in the ignition and drove off into the desert. Behind him angry eyes exploded into shards of glass. Payback time.

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE

Posted on November 26, 2015 by hafong

It’s Thursday. I had a day of rest yesterday from writing but I’m back today with Friday Fictioneers. We make up stories of 100 words or so to a photo prompt. As you must know by now, we are hosted by the gracious Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. Here’s my 100 words. I hope they are worthy of your attention.

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

She was at crossroads. She surveyed the situation. She had tried. Even read Brene Brown’s Daring Greatly. It was a steep climb and a slippery slope. If she fell….

Oh, the pain! She shuddered and shook her head. Not going there, she muttered under her breath. She paced. Back and forth. Back and forth. Yes! No! Yes again.

Did she have what it takes? Was she a coward, hiding behind her nonchalence? Why take risks? She could hurt herself. She could be humiliated.

Exhausted, she sat down. She had to do it. She had to write even if she fails.

from brenebrown.com

NO TWITCHING ALLOWED

Posted on November 18, 2015 by hafong

It’s Wednesday, the start of another week of Friday Fictioneers. We are led by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. Our assignment is to tell a story of 100 words according to a photo prompt. Here’s my 100 words of make belief. My mission here is to have fun and s-t-r-e-t-c-h my imagination and let the words flow.

Photo Prompt – C. E. Ayr

Samatha’s nose itched like the dickens. She wanted to twitch it so bad but she had promised Daren.

She could see into her neighbour’s kitchen window. Her heart ached for Cindy. Such a nice and hard working girl! That awful stepmother treated her like shit.

Wait! She could call up her aunt. Clara would be glad to help out. Samatha smiled as she folded her arms across her breast. With a brisk nod of the head and a blink of the eyes, Aunt Clara stumbled through the kitchen door.

“W-w-what happened?” She muttered, dazed, hair on end. “Where am I?”

********

The shoe brought up Cinderalla’s slipper and the ball. I like to believe in good witches. Thus my story.

IT’S OVER

Posted on November 11, 2015 by hafong

Here it is Wednesday and time for the parade of stories from the Friday Fictioneers. We like to concoct tales of 100 words or so from a photo prompt. We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. Here’s my story of exactly 100 words. I’m opened to any constructive criticism. I’ll try not to take anything personally. 🙂

PHOTO PROMPT – © J Hardy Carroll

The letter trembled in her gnarled fingers. She knew its content. Still her heart hammered and her hands shook. It was as if he could come back and give her misery. All these years she had shovelled his history beneath the layers of her consciousness. He was buried but not dead.

He haunts her always, though sometimes just barely beneath the surface. She is tired of him popping up at her. Today she is putting him to rest. She dares to look into the enevelop bearing the Royal Mail postage. Registration District: Merton. Cause of death: Smoke inhalation.

It’s over.

WHO’S SORRY NOW

Posted on November 4, 2015 by hafong

It’s Wednesday again and time for Friday Fictioneers and their tales of 100 or so words. We’re hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. Here’s my 100 words inspired by the photo prompt. I’ve been reading murder mysteries. It might have affected my imagination somewhat.

PHOTO PROMPT – © Connie Gayer …(Mrs. Russell)

He had made a mistake. He could see that clearly now. If he could hang on and figure a way out of this, the bitch will pay – big time. He had underestimated her. She was awfully lucky or smarter than he thought.

He better not struggle too much, no sudden moves. It would be disastrous. He took a slow breath, trying to relax his arms and shoulders. Yes, that’s a bit better!

Perspiration ran down his forehead. His eyes stung from the dust and sweat. His throat was dry and scratchy. He was sorry now.

“You’re too late!” She yelled down.

MURKY WATERS

Posted on October 28, 2015 by hafong

It is Wednesday and good enough for Friday Fictioneers. We gather each week with our stories of 100 words or so, inspired by a photo prompt. We are happily hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. Here’s my story to the photo prompt from Dale Rogerson.

Dang! Wanda swore to herself. The lake was getting harder and harder to swim in. She wished people wouldn’t be so careless. It used to be so good here. The water was pure and clear. You could see to the bottom. You could drink all you want. It was that sweet.

Now look at it! Full of junk and algae. And the smell. Never mind the taste. She could just gag. She hope that they would wake up soon before it was too late. What could one do? She swims away from debris.

Oh dang! She’s snagged her fin again.

THE LAST BUS

Posted on October 23, 2015 by hafong

It is Friday again and time for Friday Fictioneers to tell their stories of 100 words or so. We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. This past week marks her third anniversay as host of this group of fictioneers. Thank you Rochelle for your dedication and hard work. And now, my 100 words inspired by this photo from Ron Pruitt.

The line inched slowly forward. She hoped there was room for her. She craned her neck to see ahead of her. Please! She whispered to herself. She shifted her weight to one crutch, then to the other.

It was hard, but she had to get away fast. She glanced furtively backwards. Someone tried to move in front of her. She quickly thrust her right crutch out.

“No, you don’t!” She cried out.

Finally she was there. She felt arms behind her. Good, someone was going to help her get on the bus. Then she heard his voice.

“No, you don’t!”

onethousandandtwo

Looking at Infinity

Tag Archives: Friday Fictioneers