Friday Fictioneer 100 words: Auntie

Well, I took the image below as inspiration, but the image I’ve added underneath quite nicely sums it up! Thanks to Rochelle for hosting these 100 word challenges, as always.

ice-on-the-window

Auntie waited by the window all winter. Her drool left frozen dark brown streaks as she scratched at thick frosted glass, her yellowed teeth gnashing. Weeks passed. Auntie watched. As I reluctantly chewed up my last shred of beef jerky, and penultimate multivitamin, birds began to squawk and chirp outside. The pane had turned from grey to deep blue. Curiously, I squinted beyond. The snow was dotted with green shoots, and Auntie had become a pile of meat-flecked bones under the window. Excited, I finally prised my way out of the cabin, to explore what was left of the world.

Thank you for reading, comments are welcome!

For more Friday Fiction by other writers, please click on the little blue frog below.

Spooky picture below – definitely Auntie….!

big_thumb_70ef65251d6d632e32efa7c55f33b779

http://www.wallpaperup.com/103449/Heroes_comics_Romantically_Apocalyptic_Zombie_Window_Fantasy_dark_mask.html

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Friday Fictioneer 100 words: Auntie

Friday Fictioneers 100 words – Keep Your Eyes Peeled

My Friday Fictioneer entry for 11th March – thanks to Rochelle for the prompt as always!

Warning: This went a little dark, I reckon – I saw that huge glossy shadow in the lower section and was totally drawn into it….

Prompt from Emily L Gant
Prompt from Emily L Gant

Keep your eyes peeled, girl.

They move between dark places when the shadows shift. Between buildings. Inside homes.

My neighbour was left with a cave for a face.

They spread in shadows, their domain increasing as storms get fiercer, knocking out power, soaking firewood. They caused that too, of course. Moment they landed here the bastards were blotting out our sun.

So never blink. Be vigilant and you’ll catch a lifesaving glimpse. A spidery leg here, a scuttle at the corner of your eye. Shoot the bastards.

Keep ‘em peeled, girl. Here’s a razorblade. I can help, if you’d like?

Friday Fictioneers 100 words – Keep Your Eyes Peeled

Friday Fiction 100 words: 10 April 2015 – The Broken Trainset

So, this 100 word story isn’t exactly the same as the prompt, but it has definitely been inspired by it. No idea where it came from, only that the words ‘broken trainset’ were the loudest as i brainstormed. I recommend listening to Ray Bradbury on writing, the guy knows how to find the stories hiding in your brain. Oh yes.

So, here you go 🙂

As always thanks to Rochelle for hosting this 100 word inspiration on her blog. Also please follow the blue frog at the bottom of the page if you’d like to read other 100 word stories by fellow Fictioneers.

trian Picture by J
train Picture by Jennifer Pendergast

The Broken Trainset

Shattered, I broke the little engine laughing at me beneath his ripped track. I stomped and stomped the tiny chimney, crushing Thomas and tubby Controller, smashed them brutally underfoot. I snapped and crushed, scattering miniature railway onlookers, terrorising all with my giant’s tread. The rest was a red mist until I dropped my beer can, slumped in sofa.

Blood dripped through my sock. The sitting room wrecked. It had been a long night. I hurt all over. Now I couldn’t even flog the fucking trainset on ebay. I was gonna get my legs broke. Twisted Thomas grinned at me – I.O.U.

Friday Fiction 100 words: 10 April 2015 – The Broken Trainset

Friday Fictioneer: 3rd April 2015 – Learning the hard way

Wow, this is almost becoming a habit, and we know habits are good, right? Thanks to Rochelle for running this weekly event.

Several possibilities were pondered for this strange doorway, but I’m reasonably pleased with what came up.

This week’s photo prompt by Lauren Moscato, submitted by Amy Rees

Learning the Hard Way

Serena and her daughter, Ruby, were arguing. Bernard watched with interest from his porch. “I can’t do it!” Ruby clutched her schoolbag, shaking her head. The mother, clearly at her wits end, shoved her right out the door. The little girl plummeted toward the pavement several metres below. Bernard’s heart nearly burst in horror. Ruby’s terrified scream split the morning air. Then came the reassuring swoosh of furious wings. Ruby crowed above him. “I did it!” and swooped gleefully above him, laughing, her mother close behind.

Bernard, wishing his mother had done that, waved enviously from his street level porch.

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Thank you for reading, any and all constructive criticism welcome 🙂

Also, follow the blue froggie below for fantastic 100 word stories written by other ‘Friday Fictioneers’:

Friday Fictioneer: 3rd April 2015 – Learning the hard way

Friday Fictioneer: When Ben Burned Down the Bandstand

A strangely psychotic piece this week – think it was partly prompted and crystalised by everyone’s shock, including my own, at the hideous air crash where the pilot apparently very calmly flew himself and 150 other people into a mountain – for no good reason (all will probably be revealed, I suppose). Still, fucking unbearable to think about. Shudder.

This act of senseless brutality freaked me out and filtered its way into my story, though it’s also still inspired by the band picture. Apologies to the band people btw 😉 At least this guy has a clear motive for his dreadful actions, however dreadfully weak.

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Friday Fictioneer
By Dave Stewart

Bandstand Burn

When Ben burned down the bandstand, he didn’t seem the chap. He’d always been a nice guy,  we’d never heard him snap. But his one true love was music, and he had longed to play. But talent at it he had none, and the band drove him away. We saw him sulking in the park, although he waved and smiled. A light had gone behind his eyes, his grin it scared my child. We don’t know where he found the fuel, but he waited til the fayre. Then one match, poof, and up it went, and discord burned the air.

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Thanks for reading and feel free to review constructively. Follow the blue frog and you  can read all the other 100 word Friday Fictioneer stories 🙂

 

Friday Fictioneer: When Ben Burned Down the Bandstand

Sunday short story: 100 Words – Green

Started as a Friday Fictioneer, but as it’s now Sunday, I’ll just say it’s a piece of writing inspired by the photo from here:

The inspiration. All I saw at the first glimpse, was the green...
The inspiration. All I saw at the first glimpse, was the green…

Green

An alien ship died overhead, spraying bright juice from degraded bowels. Hungry fluid chewed all life it touched. Insatiable green turned the trees to bone sculptures, fuelling a fast-growing, acidic moss that spread faster than I could ever hope to evade. Clothes burned to nothing. Everything suffocated. Holding my breath, I dived in the fountain. Water thickened with alien weeds. Moss clambered around my spine, flowers bloomed atop my screaming lips. Planets burst behind my eyes. Emerald stars burned my lungs. I swallowed the universe. Green was warm. I wondered numbly, nerves dissolving, if there were worse ways to go.

Sunday short story: 100 Words – Green

Friday Fictioneer: 100 word story ‘Under The Stump’

Friday Fictioneers I haven’t attempted this in a while, though I have spent a lot of time doing the 750 words.com challenges, which I highly recommend. It is, though, very gratifying to carve out a few thoughts in the 100 word limit of Friday Fictioneers, with the bonus of some human feedback. This is a bit of an experiment. If you don’t run screaming, then thank you for reading:

Under the Stump

This week's inspiring image 'Frost on a Stump' by Sandra Cook
This week’s inspiring image ‘Frost on a Stump’ by Sandra Cook

Under the stump, the wee folk lived like kings. Under the stump, they supped blackberry wine and ate gooseberry jam and hot salted meat from puffs of wheat. Under the stump, there was a cold harsh heart asleep. Under the stump, a cockroach fought with a weevil. Under the stump, the wee folk made their bets. Under the stump, the wee folk taught ‘no regrets’. Under the stump, the sun was a myth. Under the stump, the spiders sought their juicy flesh. Under the stump, the wee folk were warm all winter long. Under the stump, they were safe from snow.

Feel I’m channelling a bit of the Arthur Machen, and Blackwood fairies here, if that’s what the ‘wee folk’ are.

V2

Under the stump, the wee folk lived like kings. Under the stump, they supped blackberry wine and ate gooseberry jam and hot salted meat from puffs of wheat. Under the stump, there was a cold harsh devil asleep. Under the stump, a cockroach fought a weevil. Under the stump, the wee folk bet on the weevil. Under the stump, the wee folk taught ‘no regrets’. Under the stump, sun was a myth. Under the stump, the spiders sought their juicy flesh. Under the stump, the wee folk were warm all winter long. Under the stump, they were safe from snow.

Friday Fictioneer: 100 word story ‘Under The Stump’