CRUX

 

CruxĀ  by Susan Mehr

Bird

PHOTO PROMPT Ā© Douglas M. MacIlroy

The hum of machines is no more, and pollution yields while the crisp scent of nature fills the air. As far as your eyes can see dew glitters, and the sun brings life to another day while a breeze amplifies an eerie whistle of a familiar rhyme.

ā€œRing a Ring o’ Roses.
A pocketful of posies.
a-tishoo, a-tishoo
We all fall down.ā€

I fly from one windowsill to another and gaze inside their human prisons. I never thought Iā€™d see the day when Iā€™m the observer and humans pace the same as caged animals. Is this the fate of humanity?

 

 

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

Friday Fictioneers

for more stories click on the prompt

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APOLOGUE

 

typwriter

PHOTO PROMPT Ā© Jeff Arnold

 

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers. For more stories click on the prompt.

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Apologue by Susan Mehr

Welcome to my fable, a once upon a time where a simple plot can produce an intricate web of secrets. Each clack of the typewriterā€™s keys releases hidden truths within the story. Itā€™s a dream that blows in a world amid the reality that eclipses an unknown realm and racing against time our hero journeys for answers. Is it an illusion? And is our hero afraid? Or in the moment of truth, contemplates the sweet taste of victory? Hence, the end whispers a happily ever after to my tale, except the legend of our heroā€™s actions will live forever.

 

 

WISH

 

wish

 

PHOTO PROMPT Ā© Ceayr

 

WISH by Susan Mehr

At this moment, words disappear. Alone I stand on parched soils searching for the truth. My deployment is at an end. Still, the ability to recall echoes of your laughter helps endless days begin. Even though your miles away, my journey homeā€™s not far. Memories of our sweet embrace unearth a fight to keep taking steps forward. I hunger for the day when the mere sight of you once again steals my breath. When will people realise war isnā€™t a winning game? A world away, I flick a silver coin into the air, and dare make a solemn wish.

 

For Friday Fictioneers

For more stories click on the frog. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple.

 

Panic and Hope

 

img_20190807_112118

PHOTO PROMPT Ā© Roger Bultot

 

Friday Fictioneers

 

Panic and Hope

 

Time is racing. How do we fight when the body is beyond repair? Even when the odds pile against us? Do we still have the strength? Why live to hope, when all thatā€™s left is empty space. Canā€™t find the faith, lost the fight inside, as innocent lives slip through our hands. Hopeā€™s so far away.
We need to care, not let weakness be the stronger. We are standing together yet still prisoners inside our skin. Dreams do not die, maybe tomorrow the shelves wonā€™t be empty and hope the end isnā€™t miles away.

 

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Encore

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Photo Prompt Dale Rogerson

For Friday Fictioneers

Encore

The audience stands.
Deafening claps of thunder.
Casts bow and curtsey.

They take to the stage.
Their story had to be told.
Legendary epic.

Hero, heroine.
Finding passion in their eyes.
Theatregoers cry.

They come together.
Danger, valour and courage.
For this could be love.

Cast members gather.
Reaching high for the stars.
Becoming worthy.

See their names flicker.
Shine in a thousand spotlights.
Can it be enough?

Strive to be the best.
Give it oneā€™s best shot for fame.
Greatest love of all.

The final encore.
End scene will live forever.
Hold on to the dream.

 

 

for more stories click on the dancing frog.

 

For Friday Fictioneers

 

100 words fiction in the form of a eight stanza Haiku

SCARED

 

barns-1-dawn-miller

Photo Prompt by Dawn Miller

 

SCARED by S Mehr

 

My visionā€™s a blur and Iā€™m shaking in a cold sweat. ā€˜Deep breaths,ā€™ I repeat. I can see the red barn. Not far now. I keep blinking while my shaking hand flicks strands of hair from over my eyes. A musky smell fills the air. Eyes widen. My hand drips all the way down to the elbow, Iā€™m soaked with blood. My glance lowers. Toes squish the warm bloodied mud Iā€™m standing in. Whatā€™s going on? Iā€™m shaking and my mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
A hand falls on my shoulder. I turn.
ā€œWhy did you stop? Keep running!ā€

 

Friday fictioneers

21 February 2020

Witching Hour

dales-ice-rink-1

Photo prompt by Dale Rogerson

 

Witching Hour

The best part of the night, the witching hour. My dear Madam is casting her spell on striking blue eyes. Me? I enjoy a roll on my back in a pile of snow. Snowflakes ruffle and soak through my fur coat. Wow! It is so invigorating. Iā€™m glad Iā€™m alive.

In the park Madamā€™s concocting her usual magic. In contrast, I donā€™t need magic. I have eloquence and charm. I prefer green eyes.

ā€œGood evening.ā€ Tomā€™s purr rumbles from his chest.

I return a smile, pace around him the same as a caged lion while leaving dainty paw prints in the snow.

 

https://fresh.inlinkz.com/party/09659d0353584bbfb5cb8200da43b9ec

Friday Fictioneers

 

 

ICE CREAM

Ice CreamĀ  by Susan Mehr

 

Handed a waffle cone topped with ice cream the size of Mount Everest, are they insane? But what the hell Iā€™m donning the biggest smile and lifeā€™s perfect. The rainbow-coloured ice cream is so delicious. Who cares if Iā€™m sitting in a designer pram and dressed in a Baby Armani pink frock! Iā€™m still smiling.

Sensuous impulses travel my mouth, and tongue, while hands and fingers become sticky. The icy rainbow coloured luscious cream messes my mouth while covering my forearms down to my elbows and drips into a rainbow puddle on my lap. Life doesnā€™t get better than this.

ice-cream-naama-yehuda

Photo prompt Na’ama Yehuda

 

Friday Fictioneers

 

https://fresh.inlinkz.com/p/3c9880bd0c664414b6a9a94663ef966d

NURSERY

triangle

Photo J Hardy Carroll

 

NURSERY by Susan Mehr

Nursery, itā€™s what it is, my safe place. No matter how long Iā€™ll spend peering through those windows, I can never imagine what itā€™s like to stand outside alone.
I dream of a free-spirited life, to wander the furthest horizons, unrestrained from the shackles of this dome. To be blanketed by the natural warmth of the sunā€™s rays, instead of a diminished gleam diffused through glass triangles.
ā€˜Courage,ā€™ they said. ā€˜Courage is what one needs to survive outside the nursery.ā€™
ā€œNo,ā€ I say, ā€œCourage is what one needs to take the first step. After that, what inspires, is your destiny.ā€

 

 

Friday’s Fictioneers

17 January 2020