PHOTO PROMPT © Fleur Lind I am a gloomy sort. Doom shrouds my world in shades of carnage red and cancer black. I confidently sidle and stalk through days and nights as my sleaze blends with darkness and my conquests beg for the mercy of release. Yesterday I notice I am being followed. Does the…
Category: Friday Fictioneers
#FF — The Call
PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot My dingy descent didn’t happen overnight. Each step is an independent entity containing a varied amalgam of components including conscious/unconscious conditioning, fear, impulsivity/ premeditation, peer pressure, focus, practice, tap dancing, blind leaping, thoughtfulness/ thoughtlessness, kindness/cruelty, and so many other motivations/de-motivations. Addictions, also motivated by these, have lubricated the process. Likewise-situated…
#FF — Street Life
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields As seeds we’re imprisoned from the moment we’re released from our mothers’ branches. Pressed by rough fingers into prepared medium in small plastic squares, our sprouted roots escape through drainage holes to touch our kins’. As seedlings we are shifted to larger squares until mature enough to be burlap-sacked. For…
#FF — The Reach of Winter Solstice
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson Winter solstice always reaches its fingers out, one hand into the past and one towards the future. I hear a crow’s caw and wonder from which it comes. Eddie’s scent lingers in the closet. His social media status changed back to “in a relationship.” He posts he’s spending Christmas in…
#FF — Almost Like Home
PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox When we were given tours of the rooms that were available, the director proudly showed off the few who had tubs. “Just think of soaking in hot water and bubble bath when winter comes!” she gushed to my mother. The tub, nutritious meals, and the view were the biggest selling…
#FF — I Remember Part 3
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Manny, our neighbor, pounded on our door. “What’s going on in there. Loretta has called the police.” Manny and Loretta had tolerated Mama’s wails during Daddy’s “corrections,” but now that a baby was involved… “You’re going to pay for this,” Daddy said, and squeezed Mama’s arm, hard. Soon, Officer Jones…
#FF — I Remember Part 2
PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot I was a cranky baby. The expired formula never set right. Thin and mewling, Mama did her best to soothe me with bouncing and sugar tits; even sneaking a thimble full of Daddy’s whiskey to give me once in awhile. Mama and I spent most days in the back room…
