Weekend Writing Prompt #284 – Rule

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments.

Hard to resist just sixteen words.  So I didn’t!

wk 284 rule

My roof

My rules

You don’t like it?

You know what to do…

So I left

 

Choosing the Simple Life – What Pegman Saw

Good Sunny Saturday my peeps!  I hope it is sunny and not sweltering where you are… We finally had a break in the humidity and are enjoying sunshine without melting into a puddle.  I didn’t partake last week but, since I have a Saturday off and no plans whatsoever, I thought, why not?  Thank you, as always, to Karen and Josh for hosting this weekly party.

 

This week Pegman is back in Europe in the Faroe Islands in the Kingdom of Denmark. Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the location. You can use the location supplied in the prompt, or you can browse for your own view of the Faroe Islands using Google Maps. You’ll find both street view and photo spheres at the location.

Once your piece is polished you can share it with others at the Linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun.

Choosing the Simple Life

Life was simple and real in Gasadalur. After years of living the supposed high life in Copenhagen as a real estate agent, Freja finally gave it all up. She never thought, when she got the listing for the property on the Faroe Islands, that she would find the ideal buyer in herself.

Her family tried to stop her, telling her it was no place for a woman to live alone. It was too rugged, wild, and isolated. How would she live? Her assurances were met with protestations.

Once she introduced them to Enok, they felt a small measure of relief. His name did mean dedicated and faithful, after all. He invited them into his home, fed them and assured them that Freja would never be unsafe with him around.

After they left, she thanked Enok for his help and went home.

He watched her walk away… I’ll woo her yet…

 

 

Independence – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morn, my Reader-Friends!  Had to get at this out early as I’m working today.  Gonna be tough.  Haven’t worked since December 19th!  The joys of working in a golf club, eh?

A shout-out to a wonderful writer/artist/friend, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for taking care of us every week, keeping our creative juices going with these weekly prompts.  I know it ain’t easy.  Especially when you are putting together a fabulous book!  Can’t wait.  But have no choice.  😀  And thank you, Rochelle, for your sweet and heartfelt aside…

Do join in on our little weekly party by clicking on the blue frog and adding your own 100-word story that was inspired by this lovely photo by Marie Gail Stratford.  Thanks, Marie Gail!

Get the frog code for your blog

Independence

I can do it myself, you know.

Yes, I know.

I don’t need your help.

I know you don’t.

Then why do you insist on helping me?

Because I want to.  It makes me happy to help you.

But why?  What’s in it for you?

It’s who I am.  There is nothing in it for me but to be here for you and make your life easier.

It makes no sense to me.

You’re so independent.  Let me do my little part.  What are you afraid of?

That my self will be eclipsed again after I have finally re-found it.

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.