“Fire Down Below” – Friday Fictioneers

Once again, it’s time for Friday Fictioneers, the weekly photo-prompt, 100(ish) word, micro-fiction challenge courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. I love these little nuggets of creative fun, and it is especially challenging to try and keep it to only 100 words!  This week I managed to hit it exactly!

I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to leave comments and/or suggestions.  I love to hear your thoughts!  So without further ado, I present to you, “Fire Down Below.”

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Copyright – Sarah Ann Hall

Copyright – Sarah Ann Hall

“T’ey say thems were for a factory that was t’ere, once, deep un’ergroun. During The War. After having t’ move it all down below, what with t’em ‘smart bombs’ from space sat’lites and the like.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Some folks says t’ey still be down t‘ere, workin’ away, still alive after all t’ese years. “

I just laughed. The War was a good 100 years ago. ‘Course Ziggy was the better part of crazy most days.

Suddenly I stopped, looking at the weed-choked pipes jutting up from the ground ahead of us. I could tell Ziggy smelled it, too.

Smoke.
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Click below to read other folks entries!


“Oops” – Friday Fictioneers

Time for my lastest entry in this week’s version of the Friday Fictioneers.  A weekly micro-fiction photo-prompt courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields to challenge writers to encapsulate a story in 100(ish) words.  So here’s my entry, entitled simply, “Oops.”

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Copyright-Ted Strutz

Copyright-Ted Strutz

“Well, what do you think?” she asked, gesturing at the colorful bar around them.

“Kitschy,” he replied, with barely a glance up from his Caesar romaine salad.

“Excuse…me?  ‘Kitschy?’ What do you mean?”

He shrugged, shoveling in another mouthful of oversized greenery and garlic croutons. “Kitsch.  Tawdry. Garish. Unredeemably flamboyant and without taste.  Cluttered.  You name it.  Kitschy.”

She sat in stunned silence.  Her eyes glistened with angry, unshed tears.  Oblivious to her inner turmoil, he finally noticed the envelope on the table between them.  “What’s that?”

“It’s the deed to this bar. I LOVED IT, and so I bought it as an anniversary present.”

“Oops.”

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“Warts, and All” – Friday Fictioneers

Yes, folks, it’s that time again, the weekly Friday Fictioneers courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  100(ish)-word microfiction based on a photo prompt.   Here’s my latest humble submission to this fun challenge, entitled, “Warts, and all.”

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kent-bonham“I don’t wanna.  Girls are icky.”

The young frog prince stared dolefully out between the pale green shutters of the Frog Palace at the group of village girls lined up at the gate below, his wide, flat lips pursed into a petulant frown.

His mother just smiled. “Sweetheart, you know it’s the rules.  Every year on your birthday, you have to be kissed by girls from the kingdom to see if it will break the spell.”

At nine years old, he just didn’t understand the appeal.  “Why?  I like being a frog. It’s fun. More fun than kissing a bunch of stupid girls.”

His mother just laughed.  “That’s what your father thought, too.”  She leaned over, gently kissed his bumpy, green head and whispered, ”But I changed his mind about that, didn’t I?”

“Harrumph.  Icky.”