It’s Just Like Riding a Bike – Friday Fictioneers

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to our wonderful host, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and to Jellico’s Stationhouse for the intriguing photo.

The challenge is to write a 100-word story, based on the photo prompt below. My story is semi-autobiographical.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jellico’s Stationhouse

(Personal Fiction: 100 words)

It’s Just Like Riding a Bike

Emily wobbled while her siblings breezed past. Soon, the Rathbone family would return the borrowed bikes to their vacationing owners.

“Eyes ahead. Don’t look back,” said sister Marianne.

Emily sailed by unattended, like a trapeze artist with no net.I’m doing it!” Then Emily looked back.

Crash. 

Later, Emily attended a college swimming in bikes. Not since her childhood had she ridden one, but her body remembered and into the sea of pedaling students she went. Sweat dripped from her temples as she approached the hit-or-miss intersection.

Crash.

Their wheel spokes tangled together and Emily stared into pools of blue.

Crush.

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End notes: As a kid, I didn’t have a bike, but I remember this accelerated week of learning to ride. I had one week to learn how to ride on this borrowed bike. I did it, but I crashed…a lot. Later when I went to a biking college, I was pretty scared to ride a bike again because it had been so long since I had done it! I made up for lost time, riding everyday for a solid 4 years. I still crashed sometimes, but I met some nice people along the way. 🙂

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The Interview – Friday Fictioneers

I am a bit late to this week’s gathering of the Friday Fictioneers, a community of writers who contribute a 100-word story based on a photo prompt.

Thanks to our gracious host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and to Shaktiki Sharma for this week’s cool photo.

Ahem…I went over just a tad. I had a hard time ending it….

PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

Sci-Fi (106 words)

The Interview

Addison fell into the hot seat.

Across from her, Gemma sat with her feet and knees touching. She held no resume. None was requested and Addison hadn’t sent one at such short notice.

Basking in a glow of stillness, Gemma resembled a touched photograph, except for her lashes which moved like the wings of a butterfly in slow-motion flight.

Addison formed words to questions she didn’t hear. Voices echoed. Something about data analysis.

“I studied philosophy,” Addison stated.

“How is it that you know you’re here, Addison?”

Addison jolted upright. “I don’t.” But then she knew that she did. Her insides hurt, raked and combed through.

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From where I’m sitting – Friday Fictioneers

So glad to be back to the Friday Fictioneers. I’ve really missed this group, writers, and friends. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and to Ted Strutz for this wonderful prompt. It’s a goodie.

Here’s an impromptu poem, I guess. It may not make a whole lot of sense….

Hope everyone is well!

mystery-chair-ted-strutz
PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

(Poetry: 100 words)

From where I’m sitting

From where I’m sitting
size zero prefers sex over running
but looks great in a bikini.

From where I’m
sitting
you need to get off your duff and fluff
up a towel.
Take a shower. Contribute.

From where I’m driving
you’re
on my ass.
Get off my ass!
You get nowhere faster driving fast.

From
where I’m laying,
the glass, half full,
languidin the pond
with birds flying over,
shitting, but missing.

From
where
I stand,
It’s better
to speak
than to get
trampled
or
bumped.
Shat on or cursed. That
might be the worst.
Speak, be you…smile on.

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A Light Caress – Friday Fictioneers

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and for a wonderful year of leading this group. Thank you, thank you!!

Thanks also to Roger Bultot for contributing his photo for this week’s prompt. I just love diner stories.

A little sci-fi/romance this week. Sure, why not? Hope you can make sense of this.

And good news…this just happens to be my 500th post!!

diner-roger-bultot
Photo Prompt © Roger Bultot

(Sci-Fi/Romance: 103 words)

A Light Caress

His head felt foggy. Patrons shoveled food in their mouths and didn’t look up from their plates.

“More coffee?” The waitress was already tipping her pot.

Jake nudged the cup toward her and dropped a dollar on the counter.

She grabbed it instantly. He’d never seen a waitress so desperate for a single dollar bill, only she look displeased by the whole thing.

“What did I do?”

“This don’t work here. Your scan?” The waitress turned over his arm. “You need to go.”

Jake wandered the barren street, thinking only of the waitress and her light caress. He had to see her again.

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A bit of a Charlie Brown tree this year (long story), but still shining bright with a little love and some lights. 🙂

christmastree2016

Wishing everyone safe and happy holidays!!

Who’s There? – Friday Fictioneers

Here’s my contribution to this week’s edition of Friday Fictioneers, brought to you by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and a photo from CE Ayr. Thanks, CE!

ceayr-purple-door
PHOTO PROMPT © CEayr

(Horror for 100 words)

Who’s There?

Petals dusted her feet as Laurie coasted past the purple door, chained and set back from the sidewalk. It was a mere blip in her skip until she heard knocking from inside.

She turned back, stood before it, and knocked. “Who’s there?”

“Open the door. Help me. I’m trapped,” a voice whispered, raspy and breathless.

She rattled the door. “I’ll get help.”

The authority had no key, so he shot at the lock. The door creaked and swung open.

“Just like I told you.”

Before them was a cement slab.

“Nothing.”

But Laurie felt something. A chill to the bone.

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For those who celebrate, Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you have a peaceful and restful holiday.

In Good Time – Friday Fictioneers

Hey, there’s nothing like a Friday Fictioneers on a Sunday. Am I right? I hope to get back into some kind of rhythm soon.

I’ll admit the election has been an unwelcome distraction. If only we could hold words in our hands and inspect them, see if they’re real or true.

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and leading this wonderful group of writers. And thanks to Jean L. Hays for the photo prompt.

jean-l-hays
PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

(103 words)

In Good Time

The promise of placards lined the highway like Post-it Notes. Almonds, walnuts, and peaches. Fresh! Right off the tree!

“Let’s just stop. I want some nuts,” said Cindy. “They’re better than soda.”

“They’re nothing like soda,” said Jack, grunting as he pulled into a dirt parking lot of a bustling storefront. “They’ll be filled with dirt and how do you know they weren’t pissed on?”

She held a bag of walnuts, fresh and gleaming in their package. Their shapes solid as gold nuggets.

They were silent a few miles before he asked, “Well, are you gonna open those or what?” 

“In good time.”

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The Hiders of the Tin – Friday Fictioneers

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers. How exciting that my photo was chosen for today’s prompt. Thanks, Rochelle, for the honor of selecting my photo and for your dedication to this group.

Personally, I think storage units are strange, fascinating and a bit disturbing. This one gave me the creeps. But, I think generally storage units are places of transition, what we leave behind, can’t fit into our life, or simply don’t need or want. A lot of ideas about having stuff and what it all means came up for me, but it didn’t quite fit into a story and has nothing to do with what I came up with. 

In any case, I hope this photo inspired you.

Copyright Amy Reese
Copyright Amy Reese

(103 words)

Hiders of the Tin 

Marla hid in her storage unit. Like a visit with a sick relative, she never stayed long. Others hid, too. She had heard whispers, had felt their tears on her face. Usually, she left before that happened.

Her familiar brick of boxes was her refuge. She reached for her folding chair in the corner, but not before kicking a beat-up music box.

She picked it and said, “But this isn’t mine.” Quickly, she left to throw it away in a dumpster.

Returning home, she found the music box open on the table. A tiny dancer whirled to a creak of a song.

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