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On On Off

28 Jan

100 words for Friday Fictioneers based on the photo prompt supplied by Ted Strutz and selected for this week’s round of stories by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

 

On-on-off

(Copyright Ted Strutz)

The switch positions and the cord wound clockwise said the drop was compromised. The scorch mark told him to burn everything and run. The hole was new and sure to have a camera inside.

<–>

He walked by with measured steps, eyes on the ground. Another wage slave drone headed to a dead-end job. Mindless. Hopeless.

But they were wrong.

He would remove the RFID chip in his forearm and follow protocol for reintegration into the network. Different city. Change of identity. Same goal.

One man’s terrorist. Another man’s freedom fighter.

The victor writes the history books.

There is always hope.

 

 

Screen Shot 2015-01-28 at 2.33.50 AM

Yank Thou

29 Oct

100 words for Friday Fictioneers based on the photo prompt below.

 

Three Cheers

 (Copyright Melanie Greenwood)

Early Wednesday morning. The courtyard was empty. Queen Elise, in Tyrian purple, sat poised on her throne. Her kingdom spanned the known world and many imaginary ones but she had no staff save for some reprobate jesters and old Reverend Spooner, her herald. Another week was about to start.

The hour arrived. The courtyard filled. Reverend Spooner quieted the room and spoke to the assembled throng.

“On this, the second anniversary of her coronation, please join me in offering a heartfelt three chairs for our queer old Dean!”

Elise sighed, then smiled. At least Russell hadn’t called her that yet.

 

 

Queen Elise and Reverend SpoonerQueen Elise and the Reverend Spooner

Five after Whatever

15 Oct

100 words for Friday Fictioneers based on the photo prompt below.

Five after Whaever

(copyright Douglas MacIlroy)

 

I was building a cuboctahedron when a packet of hot peppers fell from an opening and onto the workbench. I peered inside and found myself seated in a restaurant opposite a beautiful woman with sparkling eyes and a sunny smile. Across the street sea met sky beyond a pristine white sand beach.

“I was strolling on the boardwalk when a craving for Calimari alla Griglia came over me.” she said.

“And I was….Oh, never mind.”

“This is going to be an unusual relationship, isn’t it?”

We meet at Scalini’s in St. Heliers every Thursday at five after.

Scalini's

Joint Venture

16 Jul

100 words for Friday Fictioneers, an organization of writers (Est. by Madison Woods in 2011) whose current CEO is Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The mission statement of FF members is to write a flash fiction piece based on the photo prompt below, to be audited by their associates.

 

Joint Venture

Copyright Adam Ickes

 

 

“Physical inventory?” I texted.

“Yes.” my partner replied.

I thought about the changes I’d demanded. He preferred vertical analysis of inflation rate and dividends in arrears with the ultimate goal of immediate liquidation. I wanted a horizontal analysis with emphasis on non-routine transactions, double entry bookkeeping and asset manipulation and had had enough of staring at last year’s invoices because he liked a specific installment method. The intent was a friendly merger, not a split offering.

At the storeroom door I query him.

“Couch?”

“Installed.”

“Ram?”

“Pawn shop.”

“Then let’s get to work.”

 

 

 

Sign

 

 

Swan Song

1 Jan

100 words to end 2013 in a bad way and start 2014 in a good way. You’ll get my drift eventually, if not now. My gift to fast friends and faithful readers is that you really don’t need to comment on this entry as it is not a story as I understand the definition.

My thanks to Madison Woods for starting Friday Fictioneers and to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for keeping it going. I have learned a great deal during my two years of writing here, not the least of which is that less is more. Time to put it to good use. May 2014 be a sweet year for you and your writing projects.  Aloha, D.

Swan Song

First I wrote about a dog that talked the little girl into climbing the tree before a giant sinkhole swallowed their house…. Lassie saving Timmy, I know. Been there, done that.

Next try was about the silly questions women ask men. (Do these pants make my butt look big?) How to alienate half your readers, right? Next.

Talking dog? (Really?) (Not.) Shelved that. Started over.

This is my last attempt.

From high in the gum tree, little Poppy could see swans on the lake in the park next door. Their sweet siren voices called to him…

Rudyard's dog

Flight 305 Remembered

27 Nov

Happy Days! The vog has blown away. (Kind of. Every day Madam Pele makes another 4,000 tons of it.) Mahalo to all for your good, vog dispersing, health restoring wishes this past week. They are precious to me. (And I choose to believe they worked.)

Here, in celebration of clearer air, is a 100 word story for Friday Fictioneers, a complement of authors on their way to ports unknown, who, while waiting for their ships to come in, write weekly pieces inspired by photo prompts (this week’s courtesy of inveterate ferry rider, Ted Strutz) promulgated by our purple clad helmsperson, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

I think it appropriate to add this multi-layered quote for everyone kind enough to have read this far.

“If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead, either write something worth reading or do things worth writing.”  ——- Benjamin Franklin  (who was on board Flight 305 in a big way.)

305

During planning I’d imagined the night jump to a blind landing would be the acid test of my resolve. Through all the years the real challenge has been to resist the urge to spill my guts.

Be nice to tell someone about it, but even if I did, there’d still be doubters. Same idiots who said we didn’t land on the moon.

Last I heard, the case is still open. So I ride the ferry, take in the sights, just an old geezer doing jigsaw puzzles to pass the time.

Sure was something, though.

Fly free

Because Freedom is Dangerous

28 Aug

Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, a gathering of writers from around the world who meet each week in Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s cyber garage  to share their 100 word inspirations based on photo prompts such as the one shown below from Dawn.

This week’s picture is of Union Station in Washington, D.C., a city created by Congress to keep the nation’s Capitol distinct from the states and to provide for its own protection. (Seems they were doing then what they do so well now. Go figure.) It  is also famous for harboring a disproportionate population of vermin whose actions are the subject of my story. (I’ll let you know my cell number as soon as I’ve settled in.)

Lubyanka

“Destination, sir?” the TSA agent asked.

The elderly man standing trackside looked his interrogator up and down, taking in the blue and gray uniform rife with none too subtle bells, buttons, whistles and decals.

“Do I know you?”

“I’m a Visible Intermodal Prevention and Response team member. We’re authorized to….”

“Visible Intermodal what?”

“VIPER Team, sir.”

“Has it crossed your mind how ridiculous that sounds?”

“The Department of Homeland Security chose the name.”

“Ever wonder who chose theirs?”

“Your destination?”

“My ticket says Denver, but it’s looking more and more like Lubyanka Square, Moscow. ”

“Please come with me, sir.”