PHOTO PROMPT © Jen Pendergast Bats in the Belfry Reverend June looked for divine inspiration to write this Sunday’s sermon, her first in the new parish. She was replacing Father Flannery, who’d disappeared suddenly, location unknown, after thirty years at the pulpit. She’d heard so much about Father Flannery as a preacher who could sway…
Category: fiction
#FF — Where are the Crayons?!
PHOTO PROMPT © Kent Bonham Where are the Crayons? A distant voice on an intercom pulled me from dreams. Groggy, it took a moment to orient once I opened my eyes to pastel goldenrod walls and day-bright LEDs. Right. The surgery. I turned my head and vertigo slapped me around. Slower, silly. Brain implants ain’t…
dVerse — Prosery Monday — Old Red
Make of it a parkaFor your soul.— Alice Walker, fromBefore you knew you owned it Old Red Old Red lives for death. He hovers around villages at dark, urging sober to take just one sip, urging lonely to take in snakes, urging fists instead of hugs. His first memory is of crawling in a cold…
#FF — Winter Pastimes
PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart Winter Pastimes Winter is a time for puzzles and dreaming. Everyone knows Ginger likes puzzles, so she has a stockpile to choose from. She’s been saving “Miller’s Pond” for awhile. Its cloudy-skied gloominess isn’t what she’s looking for in mid-February. She reaches for a colorful equatorial puzzle with a green…
#FF — Faster than a speeding bullet
PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz Faster than a Speeding Bullet… “A round of schnapps for me and the boys!” Nicky’s stomach lurched at the smell as she poured, but it masked the stench that seemed to have soaked into the velveteen-flocked wallpaper of The Pickle. Billy was so amped that his dart tinked off of…
#FF — A Fine Woman
PHOTO PROMPT © Mr. Binks A Fine Woman Born eighty years ago, Marina was named after the family business. From the time she could walk, Marina was stacking bins. By age ten, she was cutting bait; and by fifteen, was taking trawlers out and throwing cages. At age thirty, it was Marina’s idea to invest…
#FF — Alive
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson Alive It’s quiet down here, far from screeches and howls at the surface. Constant light takes some adjustment. It’s always sixty degrees, but the cement floors’ cold can work its way up your feet and ache into the long bones. Threaded power lines travel the circuit. Sometimes they hum, like…
Tao Talk 