Tag Archives: short story

Feb 08 2017
26 Comments
Writing

“Do a barrel roll”

It had long been a dream of Ted’s to barrel roll over the edge of Niagara Falls.

He’d never been much of a daredevil per se, yet this act of rebellion had excited him ever since he’d caught a TV Movie of the Week in 1974; The Great Niagara.

It had been done before though, and this was a problem. Ted wasn’t keen on leaving behind a legacy as “the clichéd old fool”.

It was a cold Sunday morning in February when Ted stumbled upon his single greatest idea. Or, to be more precise, Ted tripped over his kitchen chair.

Here’s a little 100-worder for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. Please feel free to comment, critique, like or subscribe for more!

Thanks for the kind words last week, folks. Apologies if I didn’t get to your stories, I’ll make a much bigger effort this week I promise!

Oh, and don’t forget to check out the other stories based on this picture.

mystery-chair-ted-strutz.jpg

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Feb 01 2017
40 Comments
Writing

June

Ever since she’d been little she’d harboured romantic notions of curling up by the fire with a steaming hot chocolate and a good book, every now and then turning to read aloud the bits that made her smile to the one she loved.

But it had been a long winter. There was no fire. No chocolate (hot or otherwise). The books had been read, sold & turned into sustenance.

Her wrinkled fingers shakily pulled the itchy blanket close to her chin. The ball of fur on her lap twitched an ear.

She closed her eyes as the bitterness kissed her lips.

Back once again after another hiatus. Here’s a little 100-worder for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. Please feel free to comment, critique, like or subscribe for more!

Oh, and don’t forget to check out the other stories based on this picture.

roger-bultot-flower

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Aug 17 2016
30 Comments
Writing

Hornet’s nest

I’d only popped in for a quick coffee. She’d said not to bother, but what with everything I thought she’d be happy to see me. I’d even bought a few bits. A cute little sleep-suit, some nappies, that sort of thing.

Anyway we got chatting, well I did (she seemed exhausted) and we started reminiscing about the engagement party several months back. I’d asked if she remembered Marcus. She went really quiet. So I reminded her of the dancing, the drinks and the unexplained 12 minute toilet break.

How was I supposed to know, Dave, her husband, was in the kitchen?

 

Here we go with another 100 word picture prompt story for Friday Fictioneers. Check out the fresh new link for loads more from wordsmiths around the globe. Have fun, and if you liked it please let me know!

wasp-nest

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Aug 10 2016
21 Comments
Writing

Just the facts

“You can’t see them anymore because over the years they’ve mostly eroded away – like that one with the nose. There were lots more of them when I was a kid.”

“David!” The way she said his name was as short and sharp as the elbow that followed.

David ignored her. The kids, it seemed, were lapping it up; their wide eyes demanding more of dad’s facts.

“I know what you’re going to say,” He continued, “we thought the Pyramids were yellow?  Well kids, let me tell you about global warming.”

For the fifth time that morning, she rolled her eyes.

 

Back once again with another 100 word picture prompt story for Friday Fictioneers. Check out the link for loads more from wordsmiths around the globe. Have fun, and if you liked it please let me know!

adamickes-boardwalk

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Aug 05 2016
12 Comments
Writing

Enough

“…that’s when they said I should leave.” Mike searched the bottom of his glass.
“Hit me again, will ya Sammy?” he pushed his bone-dry shot glass towards the man behind the bar.

Sam popped the top from the bottle and poured another shot.

“Cheers,” he said, scooping up the drink. “You just can’t trust them. None of them. Not a single one.”

Sammy raised an eyebrow.

“Not you Sammy. You’re alright. Hit me again.”

Sam breathed deeply and poured another shot.

Mike nodded in vague appreciation.

“It’s the others.

Hit me.”

Sammy considered it.
He considered it long and hard.

 

icon-grill-ted-strutz

This story, my weekly dip into trying to write something creative, is part of Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. If you’ve taken the time to read this far then I thank you but please take a few more minutes to go read some of the other wonderful entries.

 

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