Friday Fictioneers 12/7/12

Tenebrous 

109 words

Rachel’s nails carve crescent moons into her shaking palms. The hag’s lips split in a wide smile, and she opens the door revealing … dense blackness. Something, equal parts wonderful and terrifyingly powerful, hides in the depths. Bracing one hand on frame, Rachel leans closer. The impermeable shadows whisper indistinct promises.

A shiver runs through her. Some inner sense warns if she does it, if she steps over the threshold, she’ll never be able to go back.

As she starts drawing back, something hits her back, slamming into the spot directly between her shoulder blades, and she trips over her dripping skirt, hurtling head first into the shack.

This week's prompt was provided by the talented Rich Voza. My story took a sharp turn from what I expected to write, that's how things go sometimes. Links to the creative writers participating in this week's challenge can be found here. Thanks for taking the time to read my flash fiction.



 

Friday Fictioneer 10/5/12

  

I love it when I can use the photo prompt (provided by Raina Ng) to write something with an agriculture theme.If anyone can think of a title for this one, I would appreciate it. It’s a rough first draft. At a 177 words I ran long, but I’m proud of my concept. I think this will be one that I have to clean up and work it into something submittal. Any and all types of comments and criticisms will be appreciated.

Thank you!

Untitled

177 words 

Hilary’s eyes skimmed the kitchen. Yesterday, they sat at the scarred kitchen table, sipping coffee while discussing the logistics of the harvest. At the time, she’d thought the temperamental combine was her biggest problem. Funny how fast perspectives change. 

Sock clad feet thump against the stairs, slower, heavier than most mornings. She turned, her breath catching, hope unfurling in her chest like a fledgling corn sprout bursting from the tilled soil as he stops in front of her. His bloodshot gaze seemed to find hers, almost focusing, before the energy drained from him. She’d never seen him like this before. 

After a moment, he squared his shoulders.

Nausea slammed into her as he stepped through her, shattering her physical presence. The world shimmered and whirled. By the time her molecules reattached, he’d poured a thermos of coffee and donned his battered cowboy hat, the brim hiding his sad eyes as he tugged on his work boots. Hilary accepted the truth. Harvest time stopped for nothing, not even her death.

Links to the author supremely talented writers participating in this week's Friday Fictioneers can be found right here. 

Friday Fictioneers: 8/30

This weeks photo prompt was taken by the very talented Stacey Plowright. Isn't it pretty.

                Cara pressed her nose against the window pane, not even noticing the cold as she stared up at the sky. Several layers of clouds hung there, like a layer cake made of stone. Anna, her sister, shot her a look.

                “Will we,” Anna whispered.

                “I hope so.”

                “When will we know?”

                Cara shrugged. “I dunno, couple hours maybe.”

                Anna bit her lip. “I’ve got a math test tomorrow.”

                Cara bounced up and down in delight. “That’s it!”

                Anna stared at her, puzzled.

                “If you study for the test and I actually do my homework, we’re bound to have a snow day tomorrow.”

For those of you who might be new to the whole Friday Fictioneers thing, this is how it works.

1. Madison Woods provides a photo prompt.

2. Using the prompt, a group of writers each produces a 100(ish) word story and posts it on their blog.

3.  A blog hop kicks off, with writers commenting on each other's contribution.

4. It starts all over again the following week!

5. Links to this week's stories can be found right here. You should check them out.

Friday Fictioneers: 8/24/12

I wasn’t going to participate this week, but Maggie Duncan's picture prompt was so pretty I just had to write something. It’s not exactly a short story, but I think it’s a pretty piece. To read some really impressive bits of micro-fiction check out the official list of this week’s participants.

The fog stole his breath. It was amazing how it could turn something as mundane as the sheep pasture into a place that felt like the setting for a fairytale. He drank it in, letting the beauty consume him until a faint sound captured his attention. Nerves skittered and his stomach churned as he picked up the musket he’d propped against the trunk of the Maple tree. He was aware of his comrades moving to stand by his side, their eyes straining to see what was coming towards them. He raised his hand, soundlessly singling them to charge, to meet their attackers, and wondered how many foggy mornings he had in his future.

Friday Fictioneers: 8/10/12

                                                                         

  

Wow, trying to write a complete micro-fiction story and make it work into my Camp Nanowrimo novel is really tough.

I love the beauty of photo prompt supplied by Susan Wenzel via Madison Woods. It's a stunning shot. 

Broken                              

I appreciate the irony.                                                                             

After all of my various self-destructive stunts, a clam shell was going to get the job done. If I hadn’t been in such a hurry, if I’d grabbed my shoes, if  I’d looked where I was stepping, the broken shell would not have mangled the bottom of my foot. Blood surges from the gash, uniting with mud and bits of road gravel, sapping my strength, making my movements sluggish.

I stumble, falling to my knees.  All I can think about is the words I’ve left unspoken.

Friday Fictioneer: 8/3/12

I'm participating in Camp NANOWRIMO this month, and I'm challenging myself to use Madison's photo prompts to build on my project. Hopefully it works.

This week's FF piece came in at 131 words, longer than I wanted, but I cut it from the original 172 and felt that removing more would fracture the story. 

The photo prompt provided by Madison wood is a bleeding grape vine. 

Thanks for stopping by. Any and all comments criticisms are always appreciated and given a great deal of consideration. Thanks again!

Thief

Cara grinned, showing the scrapes of grape skins caught on her teeth. “Look Keagen. They’re everywhere.”

                She liberated another grape from the vine. “You’re going to get sick if you eat too many.” I warned before moving to the shade of a Maple tree to wait out her grazing.  No sooner had I settled against the trunk, when Cara screamed.  

                I scooped her up. Her arms locked around my neck as the blood drained from my face and a scream clawed at my throat. Globs of puss dripped from the grapevines, falling to the ground in what looked like a melted pile of rotting brain tissue.

                A lanky boy stepped around the end of the vine, studying us as a slow smile spread across his face.

                “Good,” he said “more thieves.”

Now that you've read my piece, you need to check out some awe-insipiring writers also participating in this week's Friday Fictioneers. They can be found right here.

Friday Fictioneer: 7/27/12

I'm revisting my farmer Ted character that I created a couple Friday's ago. I've grown quite fond of him. This week's photo prompt was provided by Madison Woods. Other great writers participating in this week's Friday Fictioneers can be found right here.

Wait and See
127 Words

Storm clouds gathered intensity in the sky as Ted detached the hose from the tap. His wife moved beside him as the first fat drops splattered on the dusty ground.

            “Will this help,” she quietly asked.

            Ted thought about the hand-deep crevices he’d found in the corn field, the fruitless apple blossoms, and how he’d already fed a considerable amount hay to the cattle, and unopened pile of bills lying on the table, before taking his wife’s hand. “I don’t know. We’ll just have to wait and see.”  He drew her off the porch. “But we might as well it.”

            In less time than it takes a heart to beat they were soaking wet as the laughed, splashed, and danced in the rain, celebrating the perfect moment.

Friday Fictioneers: 7/20/12

Boo

113 words

Ted advanced towards the grapevine tepee between the tool shed and the corner of the barn. He was struck with the hair raising sensation something lurked behind those vines. He could’ve sworn that the vines had moved and shifted without the benefit of any breeze.  It was silly. Still, the only way he would relax was removing the blasted vines.

                He glanced at his dog, Hap, who stared, fascinated, at the vines.

                “Okay,” he told the dog, “let’s get this over with.”

                The hedge clippers had barely completed the first cut when vines shook violently, as if caught in the middle of a tempest, causing both Ted an Hap to leap backwards, as fourteen fuzzy ducklings burst from the interior of the viney shelter and scrambled towards the barn.

Any and all comments and criticisms will be appreciated. To read some truly incredible flash fiction you should check out the other Friday Fictioneers.