Their Latest Act – Friday Fictioneers

It’s time for a 100-word story with Friday Fictioneers, a writing group hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Thanks, Rochelle for your leadership every week. Thanks to Roger Bultot for providing this week’s photo.

My story follows. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

(Horror: 100 words)

Their Latest Act

The taste of metal tainted her tongue. Laine shook the salt shaker into her mouth. No use. The blood was still there and she spat it out, crouched with her hips off the floor.

Her mother had loved the green parrots who flew in from Mexico. They had watched their mating dance once from her patio, their gentle fluttering of feathers high in the sky. It was a performance for her, her mother would say.

No mother, it never was. They have the power of flight and beaks for pecking your eyeballs of your sockets until you’re blind. That’s all.


For more stories from the Fictioneers, click here.

A Momentary Lapse in the Fun House – Flash Fiction


My leg cramped from sitting at a table with too many people. Our chairs bumping into one another and an occasional knee brushed mine. I could smell the mustard on the leftover sandwiches permeating the stale air of the conference room where we gathered before the start of a semester to discuss budget guidelines and tweak our educational plans from the year before. The sandwiches always smelled and here they were, right on schedule, smelling again. They really needed to refrigeration immediately.

My eyes shifted from the clock to moving lips, clock to beads of sweat and foul body odor, the smell of crusty, dirty socks causing me to tune out periodically. My aesthetics proving most critical when I had the least control over them.

Students can’t get their classes. Poor Jake here had a line out the door last semester. Students even brought their lawn chairs. Isn’t that right, Jake? Jake?

“Huh. Oh, yeah. Right. That did happen,” I mumbled and cleared my throat.

I bet the chicks dig you, that must be it. Larry panned into my face, all nose, smiling from ear to ear. I felt nauseous and the room tipped from side to side. Throughout Larry wouldn’t go away.

I turned my head toward the door, wanting to dash with no one noticing. Trouble was, everyone stared at me, their faces etched in stone, as if I had the winning answer to the billion dollar question. I tried to hide my temporary lapse of daydreaming.


“Tell us how you do it, Jake.” Larry pressed, as if challenging me.

“Well, Larry, it’s just that my class makes everyone feel like an expert. They take my class to try to impress their friends. It always happens in an election year. They want to talk politics. Let me tell you something, my class is not politics. It’s not! It’s government, which is different.” I slammed my palms on the table, not realizing how worked up I was getting.

“Of course, Jake,” said Marla, the Instructional Dean at the helm. “Thank you for sharing.”

Larry’s smile faded and he popped up to help himself to a warm sandwich.

More mumbling and shifting of paper, sorted and passed. A stack of paper landed in front of me with a thud. The little hand on the clock jumped a whole hour or I may have napped, let my head fall. Drool escaped from the side of my mouth, a promising indicator that sleep did occur.

“I’m sorry. What was the question?”

“Your educational plan, Jake. If you’re done with it, you can set it right here.” Marla patted the stack.

“Sure.” I hadn’t looked at the thing since last year.

Linger – Friday Fictioneers

It’s time for Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a 100-word story based on a photo prompt. Thank you to our lovely hostess, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and to J. Hardy Carroll for this week’s magical photo.

All are welcome to join in the fun. Visit the Friday Fictioneers page for details.

PHOTO PROMPT – © J Hardy Carroll

(100 words)


Mowed lawns and watering schedules marked time at Lakewood Cemetery. For Tabitha and Elsa, it was burial plots turned with fresh soil.

“Wait until they leave at least,” Elsa said, behind a tree.

“She looked nice.” Tabitha picked up a bouquet and twirled. “Such lovely flowers. She must be loved.” She stomped on the gravestone.

“It’s her time to rest, Elsa. Be patient.”

Tabitha lay her head in Elsa’s lap, and stared up at her mirror image of blond curls and soft, pink lips.  “I’m tired of being patient. When will Mom and Dad get here?”

“There, there. Soon, sister.”


For more stories for this prompt, visit the Linkup.


Buried – Friday Fictioneers

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, where writers attempt to write a 100-word story based on a photo prompt. Many thanks to the talented author and artist Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting our group each week. Also a big thank you to Connie Gayer, aka Mrs. Russell, for contributing the photo this week.

I had some difficulty coming up with a story for this prompt. I remembered a story I heard on NPR about people who dig up dinosaur bones for profit. It made its way into my story this week. It just goes to show you that you never know what will end up in a story.

If you’d like to participate, please visit the Friday Fictioneers page.

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

Genre: Mystery/Suspense (100 words)


“Who’s tearing up our land like a bunch of feral hogs?” He had dark slits for eyes that cut like knives.

“I let him in, Pop. We won’t have to sell,” Jessup said, gripping the newspaper. “They dino hunters. We get ten percent of any bones they sell. We’ll be millionaires.”

His father pinned him to the floor in a choke hold. “No one digs up our land.”

But they unearthed dinosaur bones. And human ones, too. Jessup finally understood why the only dead relative on the mantel was Aunt Nora.

Hidden in plain sight, but not for long.


For more stories based on this prompt, visit this Linkup.

Cooped Up – Friday Fictioneers

This week marks Rochelle Wisoff-Fields‘s third anniversary with the Friday Fictioneers. Congratulations, Rochelle! Hats off to her leadership and dedication she has given to this group. I enjoyed this community and have watched it grow, not only in number, but in the strength of its writing. I want to say thanks to everyone for making it such a great part of my writing journey. September marked three years with this group, and I was having so much fun I didn’t even realize it. Yay!

As allowed, I re-running a story. The timing couldn’t be better as I have a busy couple of days ahead. I promise I will get to reading stories. However, it may have to wait until the weekend. It’s kind of nice to come back to a story and think, “Yeah, I liked this story.” It’s a nice feeling. I just changed one word, even though I’m over the 100-word limit.


(105 words)

Cooped Up 

Sweat, soap, aftershave, and a piercing, spicy floral pervaded the air. I slid my way down the aisle, each step unveiling a nod, a smile, or a distant gaze.

The promise of a sixteen-hour journey influenced my choice of a traveling companion.  I sat next to an elderly lady with her head in a book, hoping I might pass the time with sleep. Directly across from me sat a man with a cage hidden under a towel. Wisps of feathers escaped onto the grimy floor.

Cluck. Cluck. He shook the cage and offered me a toothy grin. Am I the only one who’s hearing this?


My original story can be found here.

For more stories from the Fictioneers, click here. 

Top Down – Friday Fictioneers

This is an edition of Friday night Fictioneers. Thanks to our lovely hostess, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and to Ted Strutz for the magical photo.

I’m a diet, and as I said it’s Friday night, so I have to have my fun somehow. I suppose this is an adult version of an amusement park ride. Have fun. Be safe.

Here’s some other exciting news. This is my 400th post! I’ll celebrate with some green tea. 🙂 Have a great weekend.

If you like to write your own 100-word story, join in. All are welcome.


Top Down 

Genre: Humor (103 words)

Top Down. It’s the little red sports car. In the hands of Raina, Jill is along for the ride.

Sunshine beams rest on their shoulders, their skin basking in the sea-salt spray. Raina weaves in and out, and hugs the corners. Jill flirts to passer-byes, her eyes moist, singing and eating her flyaway hair.

Raina throws her head back. Faster and faster she goes. The siren glows and squeals.

Tops off. Raina tosses her bikini over her seat. The wind takes Jill’s top.

“Is there a problem, officer? Am I going too fast?”

Hanging in the balance. “Um. No.”

It works every time.


For more stories from the Fictioneers, click here.

Before Social Media – Friday Fictioneers

I finally got my act together and put together a story for Friday Fictioneers. I love this prompt, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, who also the lovely hostess of Friday Fictioneers. It also happens to be Rochelle’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Rochelle! I hope you’re enjoying yourself and relaxing. Rochelle’s book Please Say Kaddish For Me was recently published. It’s getting great reviews. Check it out!

The challenge is to write a 100-word story based on a photo. Why not give it a try? All are welcome.

PHOTO PROMPT – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

(100 words)

Lana loves to put on a show. Ivy and Alex put on shows for each other. William, a student, hides behind drawn blinds. Octavia, lost in her own apartment, is on a strict pill diet. Lloyd, the overachiever, wakes before dawn with his stocks and treadmill. Sheamus, this guy never leaves his apartment, never sleeps. He’s always watching; across, below, inside. Conveniently across from his vantage point, a reflective window shines light on their misery.

It’s the perfect mix of joie de vivre and desperation. With penthouse views, Lloyd sips his brandy, watching the watched. Misery is calling his name.


For more stories from the Fictioneers, click here.