The Diary

Today Pegman took us to the Great Barrier Reef to swim with turtles! How fun is that? What a wonderful place for the imagination to spin out of control.

Clutching her tattered diary, the old woman speaks.
“I’ve flown with pelicans. Sung with whales and danced with fairies in the dark. Once I rode a turtle’s back. I’ve lived inside a volcano. Built a house from coral and carried it to the top of a mountain in the palm of my hand.”
The children giggle.
“I’ve lain in fields of golden glass poppies and slept in ice caves so blue and warm I needed to wear my swimsuit.” Wink. “Or nothing at all.”
The children go silent.
“I’ve loved and been loved by dragons and kings, princesses and Gollums. I’ve been to war, caused a war and ended a war. Fire is my friend. Weakness my enemy.”
The children grow bored. The woman falls asleep.
Carefully the eldest child steals the diary, opens it. Feathers and fairy wings, fire, coral, ice, and shards of golden glass drift upon the floor.

The Last of Her Kind

Tonight in a town square lit by the moon, the Friday Fictioneers gather to write 100-word stories. Thanks, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and Dale Rogerson for this thought provoking photo.

 

 

The day had been too long, hours creeping by with the slow tock, tock, tock of her heart. Lizbeth owned no watch, nor could she read the shadows of the sun’s passing. Although she had promised, Mother hadn’t taken time to teach the meaning of shifting winds. And after saying, “You’ll learn to read the waters,” Father disappeared. When brother Paul kissed her, saying, “I’ll return for you,” she believed him, too. Six-year-olds trust so easily.

The day had been full of screams. Now, hidden in the shadows, Lizbeth does her best to interpret the silence crawling across the night.

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Hurtful Tales

Wow!Rochelle has been our Friday Fictioneers Facilitator for four years and what a marvelous job she does.Today’s thought-provoking picture was provided by Peter Abbey. When I read my 100-word story to my husband, he said, ” Another dark one.” Maybe next week I’ll bend toward the lighter side. Thanks to all who read and comment on my submissions. I truly appreciate you all.

11:50 am
“Got to get home before me Em does.”
Samuel’s feet clattered across the wooden bridge.
His leggings were too hot, not because the day was warm,
it was only forty degrees, it was the panic, the need to reverse time.
“She not be cheatin’ on me! Lyin’ bitches!”

12:10 pm
“Em!” The oak door slammed against the wall.
Emily’s single porcelain dish tumbled from the shelf. Shattered.
“Em!” Samuel sprinted, room to room.

He found her hanging in the attic; note pinned to her bodice.
Beneath his words, “Be gone by noon.”
she’d penned, “Husband, I’ll have done what you be askin’.”

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