Maybe I Can Find Jamie? – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morn, my faithful readers!  Today’s the first day of Friday Fictioneers, a gathering of writers from all over our planet, partaking in a weekly challenge of writing a story in 100 words or less (I NEVER go over or under…)  I had a little fun with this one and hope you enjoy!

Should you want to participate in this craziness that is oh-so-addictive, head on over to the blog of our hostess with the mostess, Rochelle, for the how-tos.  Thank you to Roger Bultot for the use of your photo for this week.  If you just want to see what other writers saw when they got this picture, click on the blue frog.

Get the frog Code

©Roger Bulltot

Maybe I Can Find Jamie?

“I cannot wait to visit Scotland, home of my paternal grandfather.  It’s really too bad we never got to meet him, don’t you think?  The Highlands… Scots… Kilts…”

“Oh for the love of haggis!  You are obsessed, aren’t you?”

“What?  Aren’t you curious about where your family came from?”

“Yes, I am, but you’re not.  You’ve been binging on Outlander and are now obsessed with Jamie Whats-his-name from the show.”

“Fraser.  Jamie Fraser”

“Aaaargh!”

“After we visit this old ruin, can we go search for the stones of Craigh na Dun, in Inverness?

“IT’S NOT REAL!!!”

“Pffft.  So you say….”

 

 

Lost – Friday Fictioneers

Ahh yes… friends and camping.  Many a memory do I have of certain trips.  We’ll just leave it at that for now on this Wednesday afternoon.

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, where people from all over the world not only attempt but succeed in writing a 100-word story based on a photo prompt supplied by our fearless leader, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week, she has prompted us with a photo from her other half, Jan.  Thanks for taking your yearly trip to Sturgis and supplying such a great photo, Jan!

Should you wish to participate, click on the blue frog to add your story.  If you need rules and regs, click on Rochelle’s name above.

Get the in-Linkz code

©Jan Wayne Fields

Lost

The group of friends were loud and drunk, raising hell around their campsite.

She staggered her way to the bathroom, the sounds dimming as she approached the building.

After doing her business, she tried to make her way back.   Wait.  Which direction?  Follow the laughter.   Wait.  What laughter?  Look for the campfire.  Wait.  What campfire?

She stumbled, tripping over exposed roots.   Finally.  George, alone, grinning Goofy-like, fire out, sitting on the picnic table.

“What took you so long?”

“Dammit!  Where were you?  I was lost!  Why didn’t you come search for me?”

Laughing, “Seriously?  You were all of  15 feet away!”

Time for Contemplation – Friday Fictioneers

Good afternoon, Fellow Friday Fictioneers!  Please allow me first to apologise for not reading each and each and every one of your stories, especially of those kind of you to leave me a comment on mine.  I do strive to at least do that!  It’s been a helluva week and I am running after my tail, so to speak, and feel like I’m accomplishing a whole lotta nuthin’ in the meantime!

I promise to try and do better this week, despite my late start!  (You know, that is why some of us strive to write on Wednesday.  It permits us to keep up.  Usually.)

This photo stumped me most of the day.  I was going to go one route but felt that was too predictive of me.  So I stepped away, cleared away the last of the boxes in my dining room (yes, finally!), did a few loads of laundry, blah blah blah. and then this came to me.  Hope you enjoy!

Thank you to Rochelle for herding us wild things each and every week and for supplying this week’s photo, to boot!   Click on her name for the rules and regs and, should you wish to add your two cents’ worth or read other fabulous stories (not that I’m assuming mine is fabulous….),  please click on the blue frog below!

Time for Contemplation

She let the warm water caress her skin, washing away all the stress, sorrow, sadness and angst.  There were so many things taking up space in her mind.  What was it about showers that did more than clean one’s body?

It was almost the best part of her day.  Alone.  Warm water.  Peace and quiet allowing her to contemplate.  Dream.  Cry.  Make to-do lists.  Plan vacations.  Pleasure.

“Moooooooo-oooooommmmm…….”!

Like a needle dragged violently across a vinyl record, her reality came screaching in with the slam of the door against the wall.

Sigh.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I need a glass of juice!”

Between a Rock and a Hard Place – Friday Fictioneers

Good afternoon (for those in the EST zone, anyway) my fellow writers and readers.  It is already Wednesday so, time for another Friday Fictioneer 100-word story.  This week, our fearless leader, Rochelle, has chosen a picture from another master of the short story, c.e. ayr.  So many places I though of going and yet, when my fingers hit the keyboard, and after many starts, edits, cuts, restarts, this is what came out.  I dunno… sometimes you just have to let go.

Should you wish to join in on the fun (and it is fun, I promise you), just click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs.  To read more stories inspired by this interesting rock, click on the blue frog and enjoy!

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

 

She felt stuck.

She went on a coffee date with one man and their conversation lasted over two hours – a exhilarating, intellectual connection.  Further phone conversations yet no second date.

So, when the persistent fellow she had always dismissed asked her on a date, she acquiesced.  Nice guy, uncomplicated, rough around the edges.  But then they kissed.  Whoa!  The passion was palpable.  They met several more times and the passion increased.  It was exhilarating.

She knew herself enough to know that eventually, she would also need more intellectual stimulation.

Right?

Or, maybe it was time to just let go.

***

https://www.elephantjournal.com/2014/02/she-let-go/

 

Too Little, Too Late – Friday Fictioneers

Hey, hey, hey there!  Hope all is well with you.  Thanks to Tracey and Rochelle‘s back and forth on my posted “Secret Admirer” pic (on Facebook), it got chosen as a prompt…

I will be most interested in seeing what others come up with!

Should you want to join in on the fun, click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs.  To simply enjoy reading the other stories, click on ze bleu frogue…

Genre:  Fiction

Word count:  Really?  Always 100!

Too Little, Too Late

Boxes packed, she took one more look around the place, trying to feel something.  Anything.  She couldn’t.  She was numb.

After years of working at what she thought would be a wonderful future, she finally accepted that she was the only one doing the building.

Every time she got to a point of wanting to give up, he turned on the charm; became the most attentive lover, the best partner and she’d be fooled into staying.

Not this time.  She was not going to waste the rest of her life with such a man.

He could keep his damn flowers.