Tag Archives: friday fictioneers

Robert’s Desk


Ok, so it was probably my fault.  But still, who’da thought that witch woulda been capable of this.  I make one stupid joke too many – something about her mole – and next thing you know my soul is trapped in this stupid stuffed penguin.  And the penguin is on Robert’s desk.  Robert!  Not even Robert wants to be near Robert’s desk.  Don’t even know where my body is.  Can’t move, can’t eat or drink, can’t fart…stuck trying to figure out how to communicate with Robert.  Robert!  Oh, I don’t know what’s up with the paper clips, either.  Freakin’ Robert.

This post is for Friday Fictioneers, only I missed the deadline so it’s just me writing a story for me.  I blame Robert, myself.


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Filed under Prose, Shorts, Uncategorized

Last Memory


The image was burned into her memory as clear as a photo. The coffee-cup motif with the address above it.   Of course she remembered it sideways, viewed as she lay on the floor with consciousness slipping away.   She knew that was where he had died, where he’d been killed.   Thanks to the bullet in her brain she couldn’t remember anything else – not his name, or her own for that matter. But that was enough, a place to start her hunt; she would find them and make them pay. But first she had to get the IV out of her arm.

Friday Fictioneers 100 words

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Portrait of the Artist (Friday Fictioneers)


Everything in that damned workshop had a story behind it. The shells he spent hours combing the beach for, leaving me partner-less for volleyball, the clock with the jumbled numbers he picked up at some scuzzy flea market normally reserved for buying back whatever you’d had stolen recently. The clock was fitting, he was never on time. Used to joke I spent my life waiting for him, then one time he just never came. Speeding driver snatched my beloved, infuriating artist away forever. And now I had to do…something with his workshop. But not today, today I remember the stories.


This story is for the Friday Fictioneers challenge (picture based story, 100 words: http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/10/15/17-october-2014/


Filed under Prose, Shorts

Start From Zero (Friday Fictioneers)


Sweaty and uncomfortable though it’s cool, I set my glass down, almost spilling on the painting.  Her painting, which I don’t get, but spent 30 minutes discussing.  Her I like; winning smile, dancing eyes belying the crow’s feet developing next to them, wicked sense of humor.  But I’m boring her, I know.

First date since…since my world ended.  Cancer; six terrible months, then five lonely years.  And now here I am, boring the pants firmly on my date.

If she could see me now, she’d laugh her ass off.  That makes me smile as I reach for my glass again.

*****This post is part the Friday Fictioneers challenge.*****


Filed under Prose, Shorts

Once Upon a Time…


…there was a beautiful princess who was to be married to an evil imperialist to seal the annexation of the island kingdom, part of the imperialists’ manifest destiny.

But the princess could not do it, for she loved a village surfer boy.  Sadly, on the eve of their planned escape he was captured and killed by the imperialists.

So the princess, dragging her broken heart behind her, went to her favorite spot.  Looking over the clouds as tears rolled down her cheeks and prayers dripped from her lips, she spread her arms and soared to freedom.

Annexation proceeded as planned.


This flash fiction story is in response to the Friday Fictioneers weekly photo challenge.


Filed under Prose, Shorts

Gunshots (Friday Fictioneers)


There were like these gunshots outta nowhere.  I’m like “whoa, somebody’s shootin’, what’s going on Jimmy?”  Cause I was rollin’ with my man Jimmy.

But then I saw Jimmy was down, and I was all “Jimmy’s down, Jimmy’s down.”  Cause Jimmy was like down and shit.  There was blood and I was freaking out, “Jimmy caught one.”  Yeah, he got shot, what’d I say?

So I gotta call 5-oh and shit, but I ain’t got no phone, so I checked for a PF1.  But then the handset was all shot or busted or whatever.  Good thing you guys came anyways.


Other Friday Fictioneers posts of mine can be found as below:


Michael Nicoletta

Other posts for the same picture can be found here.


Filed under Prose, Shorts

Shadows (Friday Fictioneers)


This was where it happened 30 years ago.  Where a stepfather despoiled the innocence of a scared little boy and coerced silence.

Here, too, was where he’d planned revenge and escape.  An old kitchen knife rusted in the weeds even now, along with remnants of his youth.  But plans are just fantasies for scared little boys; in the end escape takes longer than you think you can last.

He was drawn here today after the funeral of the carnal criminal, whose shadow still darkened his past, present and future.  He sat smoking for hours, wondering if he had finally escaped.


Other contributions for this week’s 100 word story challenge can be found here.

My other Friday Fictioneer short:  Michael Nicoletta


Filed under Prose, Shorts