SoCS/FOWC/Friday Fictioneers/WWP ~ The Work of Art #FOWC #Fridayfictioneers #SoCS #Fandango

6

“You call that art?” Victor said as handed Officer Robbins a pretzel from his cart. “Art is like that Italian broad in the frame, Mona something.”  Robbins bit into the pretzel, grateful that Victor was still peddling this late.  He looked at the sculpture that Victor was referring too.  It wasn’t his taste either but, still pretty in its own way. “You shouldn’t judge all art by your tastes, Victor” Robbins said, truly enjoying the freshness of his pretzel.  Victor questioned “Well, whats a work of art to you?”  Robbins smiled at Victor,
“Your pretzels”.

(95 words)

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Written using the following prompts – Stream of Consciousness Saturday  Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt #115. , Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Roger Bultot. and finally, Fandago’s FOWC prompt  https://fivedotoh.com/2019/07/20/fowc-with-fandango-grateful/

Friday Fictioneers ~ Terminal #FridayFictioneers

5

“I’m going to kill someone in this terminal” Aaron jumped up, hearing this. He looked around at the hundreds of people scurrying by in the airport. There was no one directly near him, just empty chairs where he was just sitting. “Who said that to him?” He thought, standing there with his heart still racing. He sat back down and continued to wait for his flight.
“You heard correctly. I will murder someone in here tonight. You won’t know who and you’ll never know me. Have a safe flight”
Aaron stood up frantically terrified that these thoughts were going to become reality.

(100 words)

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Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit goes to Rochelle.

Friday Fictioneers ~ Time to spoon

8

 

“TWEEEEEEEEET’  the teapot whistled signaling it was done. This meant that the spoon was ready too. It took ten minutes for the stove to heat but, Allison felt it was longer. Doug began to move, perfect timing. She wanted him awake for this.
“What the?” Doug said as he awoke. He was tied down to a chair. Allison grabbed the spoon. The same one that Doug beat her with numerous times for years. It’s handle now so hot, Allison still felt warmth through her oven mitt. This time, she welcomed the spoon as she walked towards Doug’s unsuspecting bare back.

(100 words)

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Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Valarie J. Barrett.

SoCS/ WWP/ Friday Fictioneers ~Wonderfully Blinded

8

It was a joy for Karen to watch her daughter, Rosy spin around playing ‘pin the tail on the donkey’.  “Look at her” Karen said to James. “She’s having so much fun with that game”.
“Yes, she is easy to please. But, her birthday party was yesterday.   Don’t you think we should take that thing down?”
Karen stared back at her daughter, who was in bliss with some colored pieces of paper. “No..let her enjoy it, while she still can.”
Karen smiled knowing that simple childhood joys fade away far too fast.

(92 words)

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Written for the following prompts- Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday “Rosy”, Sammiscribbles Weekend Writing prompt “Spin” and The Friday fictioneers photo prompt.

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Friday Fictioneers~ Boomhouse #fridayfictioneers #crime

9

Holister grinned when he finally spotted the house. Gerrin knew of this place and felt it was perfect for their rendezvous point. The heist had gone off flawlessly yesterday in them stealing the diamonds. They had planned to meet up today. Gerrin knew a place so remote that no one could find them. Holister would provide passports as Gerrin held the diamonds. The drive took hours and Holister was starting to doubt the shack’s existence. He was relieved to see it, not knowing that Gerrin had earlier rigged the empty place to explode once the front door was opened.

(100 words)

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Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Jean L. Hays.

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SoCS/ Friday fictioneers~Buyer’s remorse #SoCS #Fridayfictioneers

15

“D’oh!” Jenkins said smacking his hand against his head in shock. He had always wanted to own a big machine.  One that was at forefront of technology in the manufacturing world. Sales representatives had pitched him this product as the future of wardrobe manufacturing. Jenkins gleefully purchased it, sight unseen. After the device was installed,  Jenkins went to go see it in action.  His excitement quickly turned to regret upon seeing the results of his purchase. The Ultravox3000 was indeed the most advanced device of its type, being able to quickly produce a single shoelace of impeccable quality.

(95 words)

For Friday Fictioneers prompt and SoCS Saturday.

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS March 30/19

29 March 2019

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The Flower Trap~#friday-fictioneers, #kids,#themagicshop

0

 

The spilled water from the knocked-over vase filled with fresh-cut roses edged its way across the kitchen table. Once again, the two teen sons of Danielle Lewis ignored previous warnings and ran through the house goofing around. An act that had previously been committed numerous times. The boys would then secretly clean up the mess, confident that they were getting away with shenanigans.

Unbeknownst to them, Danielle knew all along what was happening and was planning a trap.

The next day, Danielle placed a vase of glass roses on the table’s center and mischievously thought,

“Let them cover this up”.

(100 words)

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Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochell Wisoff-Fields.

Friday Fictioneers~Restless #friday-fictioneers #themagicshop

0

He saw the campfire and guessed who would be there. An open flame usually brought lustful teens together. He would kill them all. They deserved it living their perverted ways. He walked towards the flame, clown mask on and machete out.

Earl “Reaper” Toomey looked amoung his fellow bikers of the ‘Satan’s Sons’ gang. They were getting restless just drinking out in the woods. They needed to beat someone’s ass, just for the Hell of it.

As a clown-faced man jumped out Reaper and his eight buddies stood up. They cracked their knuckles and grinned in delight.

(100 words)

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Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo Credit: Anshu Bhonjnagarwala

Carrots~ #friday-fictioneers,#shortfiction #themagicshop

5

The branches of an early Autumn frost crack under the feet of William Ward as he continues his walk home.  He exhales a dry breath as his age slows down his pace.  Today was a good day for him, with a quest full of treasures.  The canvas bag he carried was filled with a wool cap,  some slightly irregular socks,  a few mildewed paperback books and a dented can of carrots.  William loved carrots.  When he was a little boy,  he would be the only one out a family of four kids that would eat every single one off of his plate. His Mom would then embarrass him with a big hug and kiss  right at kitchen table.  Of course back then, those carrots were cooked by Mom in this special glaze that made them extra crunchy and irresistible.  Those days were long gone now, along with his Mom and his three sisters. The days now were very different for William.  The safety and warmth of his childhood home were eventually replaced by different levels of life’s standards.  His apartment right out college was small but decent, as was the cape cod he had bought with his wife, Barbara.  There the two them lived for many years, raising three boys to manhood and marriage.  William often thinks of those memories, they instinctively seep into his present state of mind on the nights when the open cold air numbs his body.  Night would soon be descending, as the afternoon sun was starting to set.  The chill of the night would be upon the woods.  William would rely upon the six blankets and giant stuffed teddy bear to keep him warm.  He approaches the rusted husk of the Plymouth station wagon and throws his bag inside. He thinks of Barbara and the over-sized sunglasses she used to wear in this car back when they would drive the kids down to the Jersey shore for summer vacations.  She was always a fashionista, even wanted makeup on her face as she slipped away in her hospital bed.  This had been a damn good car. William remembers his Dad repeatedly telling him growing up,

“Son,  just always change the oil on ANY car. She’ll last a lifetime”.

And as usual like most Dads are with their uncannily accurate advice,  Dad was right. This car ran for many years and thousands of miles.

William coughs into the open air, fighting off a potential cold.  He gets into his car once again,  the one he now calls home and closes his eyes.  He thinks of how good of a day it was to have found a dented can of carrots as he slowly falls asleep.

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Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  Photo credit: Ted Strutz.

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Friday Fictioneers – The Arrow #friday-fictioneers #themagicshop #crime

4

“Who did this?” Lieutenant Sullivan gasped entering  the crime scene.  Mr. Oscar Munson had been found dead earlier with an arrow sticking out from his forehead.  Apparently, upon answering his front door the murder weapon crashed through and struck him right between the eyes.

“Thats why you’re here sir, to find the killer” Rookie officer Franco answered.

Sullivan snapped.  “I know that! Who put the duct tape over the broken glass? It’s evidence!”

Franco lowered his head and said “Me, sir.  I forgot to bring the yellow crime scene  tape”.

Sullivan knew right then, it would be a long night.

(100 words)

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Written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Photo credit: Dale Rogerson.

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