As the sun goes down – Friday Fictioneers

It’s time to write another piece for Friday Fictioneers!  Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields who hosts this venture.  Each week Rochelle chooses a photo prompt to inspire writers to produce a 100 word piece of flash fiction.  Do use the link to her blog if you are interested in joining the group.  It’s a great way to get involved in writing.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

As the sun goes down

The setting sun was weaving a flamboyant tapestry all around her.  The patterns and colours took her breath away and she stood, entranced, wondering at this magnificent display, today of all days.  The wind gently nudged her to the water’s edge where the waves lapped around her feet in a tender display of affection.

Her husband’s voice called her name, reminding her that it was time to leave.  She turned and made her way back to the house. The piles of broken bricks told the story of a place where dreams were made.  Dreams that were drowned in the flood.

 

The place where love grew – Friday Fictioneers

It’s time to write another piece for Friday Fictioneers!  Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields who hosts this venture.  Each week Rochelle chooses a photo prompt to inspire writers to produce a 100 word piece of flash fiction.  Do use the link to her blog if you are interested in joining the group.  It’s a great way to get involved in writing.

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

The place where love grew

The journey took longer than I remembered but, at last, I had arrived.  The house was empty and in a state of disrepair.  The tree hadn’t fared much better. The two huge branches stretched out from its trunk in a gesture of despair.  The hole where a branch had once been was like an eye whose many tears had worn a deep furrow into its gnarled face

 I searched for the place where we carved our initials but the weather-beaten bark revealed nothing.

 I stand quietly.  Remembering.  I wonder where you are now.  And if you ever think of me.

The significance of a bird – Friday Fictioneers

It’s time to write another piece for Friday Fictioneers!  Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields who hosts this venture.  Each week Rochelle chooses a photo prompt to inspire writers to produce a 100 word piece of flash fiction.  Do use the link to her blog if you are interested in joining the group.  It’s a great way to get involved in writing.

PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy

The significance of a bird

“What is it?” she asked.

 He watched the bird make an attempt to free itself.

 “No idea.”

 He looked across the desolate landscape.

 “A living creature,” he said.  “Another sign of life, at last.” 

 The bird watched as she put some crushed apple on the ground.

 “Let’s see if it eats some,” she said. 

 He looked at her sleeve.  “Pull out that loose thread and tie it round this thing’s leg.”

 Gently, he put the bird down.  It squawked indignantly and flew off.

 He shrugged. “Perhaps it’ll come back,” he said.  “And bring others.  That would really tell us something!”

 

 

 

Who am I? – Friday Fictioneers

It’s time to write another piece for Friday Fictioneers!  Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields who hosts this venture.  Each week Rochelle chooses a photo prompt to inspire writers to produce a 100 word piece of flash fiction.  Do use the link to her blog if you are interested in joining the group.  It’s a great way to get involved in writing.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Who am I?

The land disappeared into darkness.  “Like my life,” I thought, as I struggled to hold back the tears.

 I clutched a letter Mother had left me.  It told me she wasn’t my mother at all. She had waited until after her death to say this.  Her written words explained that she hadn’t known how to break the news or how to cope with any response I might make.  I had to deal with this myself.

 All sense of identity had been snatched away from me.

 Some family secrets should be kept deep in the hearts of those who hold them.