Friday Fiction - Wouldn't It Be Funny

While I happen to be writing this whole month I figured I'd return to my roots with a little FridayFictioneer. What a lovely picture, it tickles me. Plus, She and He  (links to their other stories above) finally got names (yay...)

Copyright John Nixon

Wouldn't It Be Funny

Heydan hated clowns. Ever since she was little and her parents thought it was a good idea to let her watch It on television. But this clown was part of the play so she remained calm.

Harry next to her whispred, “Wouldn’t it be funny...”

Suddenly, Harry was lifted and thrown into the old piano that sat dusty in the corner. The audience thought he was part of the act and applauded. The actors on stage, clueless.

Only Heydan knew, she pictured it, so it happened. His colorful foot wear adding to the effect.

“Why yes, yes it would be funny.” 

The Blog Hop has already begun, so you should all take a look inside and see what the other awesome writers do with this photo prompt. Don't forget to drop by Rochelle's blog for the rules. 

Everything's for Sale- Friday Fictioneers

Once in a while I'm reminded that I'm a fan of Steampunk. I'm a fan of a lot of things but that's not the point. When I saw this week's photo Prompt offered up by Sandra Cook, my comment on Facebook was something like: I'm in  love.

It's pretty in a  rusty greasy gear head type of way and I'm not ashamed to say it. In fact, it makes me want to dig out my halloween costume and go find  a dirigible. Which brings me to my submission. 

Copyright Sandra Cook

Everything's for Sale

The young pilot eyed the contraption eagerly. The old tramp watched as the youth approached the steps of the local saloon. The tramp recognized the want in her coveteous eyes. Everyone who saw it had the same look.

“I see you looking at the bike little lady.” The tramp siddled between her and the bike.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about old man.” The pilot knew his kind. Meddling. Out to make some money.

“Sure  you do. But this baby ain’t for sale.” He patted the seat.

She drew her pistol, aiming it at the old tramp. “Mister, everything’s for sale. Now get out of my way.” 

The Blog Hop is going pretty good this week, so you should all take a look inside and see what the other awesome writers take from this work of art. Don't forget to drop by Rochelle's blog for the rules and tips on how to induce labor. Hopefully you'll participate too.

Friday Fictioneer- The Dig

You know some people just don't care how they get their kicks. "She" is back with her careless side kick "He" and this time there is a little assist from every one's favorite wizard. 

No, not Gandalf the White. Harry Potter. Though Meeks was pretty bad ass too even if he's a bit on a shady side. Geek points if you even remotely remember who that guy was. Is not was, because in books your characters live forever. But this isn't about wizards, so lets focus. Focus. Focus Tia, there's a cool picture and you were trying to make a point.

I want to thank Scott Vanatter and whom ever Indira is for submitting the closest thing to the Whomping Willow without actually be-spelling a willow. Don't judge me.

Submitted by Scott Vanatter with permission from Indira

The Dig

“It looks like the creepy Harry Potter tree.”

“Creepy Harry Potter tree!?”

“It swung at people - nasty piece of work? You don’t remember that?” She pushed her shovel down into the ground.

“Not really some of us were busy getting laid.”

“You can be so crude sometimes. Just dig.” 

Silence followed until he paused in his exertion.

“Hey wouldn’t it be funny if there was a tree like that in real life?” He said.

Above them creaking and snapping began. The ancient knotted behemoth bent forward splintering and ripping roots that moments before was held fast to the earth. It was going to kill them.

And here is an orgy of other bloggers joining in on the Hlog Bop Blog Hop. I think "Orgy" is probably too strong a word here. I don't feel like changing it though because it's 2:27 AM PST right now and I should be in bed. I will probably regret that statement later in the week.

Anyway, here is the Linky thing that gives your access to the party. Do not forget to drop by Rochelle's blog for the rules and her beautifully written submission.

Enjoy your weekend.

The Endless Warrior Friday Fictioneer March 1, 2013

I wanted to bow out of this picture this week. The alternative was to go back to working on my dress that has been kicking my ass ALL WEEK . I won't go into much detail except for the fact that I've had to take it apart twice so far and I went through one spool of thread already.  I decided to do a little creative writing instead. Much more therapeutic than sewing.

If I can finish this I can do anything.

(Especially therapeutic if you're not that good at it. I took up sewing when I my writer's block didn't go away.)

This week's photo prompt made me think of time travel. I think it's the photos in the side compartment that do it. It also had me looking for uncommon names and going over the word count. Say hello to Ajax the warrior and Nitya the timeless.

Copyright Beth Carter

The Endless Warrior, 122 words:

Nitya heard the keys but refused to hope. Every day Ajax entered the garage, keys jangling and took the car. She knew that the car was the appropriate choice, it did not stop the hurt she felt whenever the garage door closed behind them. A glimpse of the world outside, fresh air, sky and road stretched endlessly, while she rotted inside.

The garage doors made the slow crawl upward. The car’s engine started. He parked it just outside the doors overhead. Dare she hope?

Ajax sat in the worn seat, disturbing the dust in the compartment.

“When and where to?” Nitya said hoping to not sound too eager.

“Anywhere but here.” He caressed the dashboard as she hummed to life and they disappeared.

Join the Blog Hop by first clicking on Rochelle's WordPress Blog and learning the rules, then finding your way through to the rest of the Fictioneers. Happy Reading.

Hope - Friday Fictioneers Photo Prompt

You ever just see a change coming and you feel it so much that you end up ignoring all the ones who don't believe? 

I've got "Hope" at exactly 100 words. Over on Facebook I took one look at this picture and immediately said something about fairies. Well that might happen. And then I might win the lottery too. You may never know I might come back and do a second one before Friday...

Please give some credit to Janet Webb for this picture. Trust me when I say this picture is Trashy Mass Produced Romance Novel worthy. There has to be a story behind it.

Copyright Janet Webb

Hope

“Sweet swirling onion rings, it’s disgusting.” Andrew said as the building came into view. The ramshackle roof was partially collapsed. There would be months of work to do here.

“But look at it! This place is magical!” Steph practically sang.

“A magical mess. What possesd you to buy this place?”

“He told me to.” Steph sounded infinitely sad, as she did every time “He” was mentioned.

“Steph, you need to let Tim go. Baby, he’s gone, he’s never coming back no matter how much he loved you.”

Steph waved the thought away. “We can be together here. He told me.”

Don't forget the rest of the Blog Hop. Start with Rochelle and then use the In-links thingie to read through the rest. Happy Reading.

Friday Fictioneer - Untitled 2/14/2013

I'm at a loss for what to name this one. Coming in at 104 words I'm just going to say this. If we could do things with just a though, what wouldn't or shouldn't you do?

I have to hand it to the photographer David Stewart. I really like this picture. It...Speaks...to me.

Copyright David Stewart

“You know what would be super cool, is if the statue reached out and grabbed that little kid.” He whispered into her ear. She immediately looked back at the statue.  A family positioned their two little girls beneath the statue’s outstretched hand.

“Why would you say that. you know what will happen next.” She grabbed him and hastily left the square, hoping nothing would move. Shrill cries rang out behind them, but she kept them moving further away.

“What’s wrong with you? I told you my thoughts were dangerous.” She hissed.

“Can’t you stop it?”

“No, stupid. Once they’re live I can’t do anything.” 

The direct link to all the awesome creativity for this week's blog hop is right here !!!Boop!!! But I want you to check out Rochelle's (our lovely Friday Fictioneer Hostess with the mostess)and also go find the FaceBook Page as well.

Friday Fictioneer- Waiting at the Gates

You ever start thinking in your head all kinds of messy scenarios about why your flight is late? No well I do, and so do the neurotic people I make up in my head. With that in mind, let's see what this nameless wonder does when his/her flight is late.

Copyright Rich Voza

Waiting at the Gates

You notice anything odd about that plane? It’s blocking your  gate. All the other planes are coming and going across the corridor but this one is the only plane on your side. Should you say something? What if the other travelers already said something? It’s been over an hour. The airline should say something. Did some one move in the window? Go look, take a picture.

“Attention passengers gate A-19 is now closed. Please see your nearest guest representative for new gate assignment and flight information.”

There was some one in the window. Did anyone else see that?

Rochelle- and her wonderfully purple blog  she has going is the key to all the interestingly written Friday Fictioneer stories. Unless you don't like purple then you can just click here. I'd advise not to though because her story is great.

Friday Fictioneers- The Right Way

Well that was quick. I just posted something like twenty minutes ago. I guess I'm on a roll. I was taking a peak at this weeks Fictioneer photo prompt and the story just came to me. Well in all honesty that picture was just great. 

If anyone has ever seen the Labyrinth, you'll immediately recognize the potential of this photo like I did and just let your imagination run away. Please enjoy -The Right Way

Copyright- Joyce Johnson a Fellow Fictioneer

Sara passed that same hideous face five times already. The only one in the Labyrinth that did not talk to her. It just cackled gleefully at her, the voice of it ringing in her ears. Its face permanently mocking her, taunting her while she tried to break free. It never actually moved, she just heard it, in her head. 

She ran left this time, back tracking and ignoring the finger that pointed to the right. She ran, only to arrive back at the same finger and that same horrible face. Sarah sank to her knees. The laughing continued.

Check out the other Fictioneers in the Blog Hop on this inlinks thingie.  You can also contribute your own 100 words using the same link. You can peep the Facebook page too, there's  some other information on it that might interest you.

Flash Fictioneers: Bringer Of Life

I never did submit my Flash Fiction for the week end. But I did say I was very excited to share it with you. So here it is, more of an introduction than even a snippet of a story but I like where it's going.

Bringer of Life:

It was nearing dusk and the spirits shivered with anticipation. The traveler ambled closer and closer to the ramshackle building. She would be their queen. She would take them from this place. They’ve waited for a female, a bringer of life. Finally.

Power swirled around the back packer, guiding her toward the shack. The spirits quivered and flitted between the stones as she mover nearer. They could almost feel the life emanating from her. Her nubile body would stand the process well. They would all worship her for the births she would bring to them. To be alive again.

Photo Prompt for the Friday Fictioneers

Not every week do I manage to get a chance to post early on the Photo Prompt. When I do I get this special little feeling inside when my head starts spinning a 100 word tale. I'm looking forward to what is coming out of that this week.

What an awesome picture by Piya Singh Bittercharm. OOO I want to go camping there. Scary.

As always you are all invited to participate in the Friday Fictioneer's Blog Hop for more details check out the page on Facebook. Then you too can be a creative dynamo like the rest of the players. So Come on.

Photo by Piya Singh Bittercharm

Something's Coming: Friday Fictioneer

This week we get this unbelievably cool picture from Stacy Plowright and this time I'm not sure what to make of my story. You be the judge and don't forget to visit some others participating on this week's Friday Fictioneers.

Clouds in Toronto by Stacy Plowright

“Look outside for me. I can feel the air. Something is coming Martha.” 

“Oh don’t be silly Cheryl. If anything it’s just a storm.” Martha was tired, she’d been at work all day, she just wanted to relax. She did not want to be anyone’s eyes. Not even Cheryl’s.

“But I can feel it, Martha, something is coming.” Cheryl pleaded.

Martha huffed. She cracked and popped as she left the couch, achey bones dragging themselves to the window. 

“Oh my God, the clouds...” she gasped. They rolled in waves toward their home, heavy and dark.

“Martha? Mar-tha? MARTHA....”

For more of the Blog Hop of the Friday Fictioneers you can head over the Facebook and check out the page. On Twitter #FridayFictioners. Or you can go to Madison Woods for the rules and see a list of Fictioneer contributors and click on them at random. Happy Reading

Friday Fictioneer: The Living Mist

This week's Fictioneer Photo Prompt comes from Maggie Duncan. A member of e-Fiction and the woman who first introduced Friday Flash Fiction to me.

This picture brings back the Tia we all know and love. No sugary sweet love stories here. 

By Maggie Duncan

The Living Mist

It rolled in last week covering the shores, then it made its way past the buildings that pretended to be the port. By the time it covered the fields, forests and meadows, the country was in full scale panic. It circled the city and all the land around it, every mossy covered rock and stream.

The mist thickened just like the little girl asked. She was such a sweet girl and it would do anything to please her. She just wanted to get away from the mean people in town. Pretty soon, the mist would take it all away. 

For more of the Blog Hop of the Friday Fictioneers you can head over the Facebook and check out the page. On Twitter #FridayFictioners. Or you can go to Madison Woods for the rules and see a list of Fictioneer contributors and click on them at random. Happy Reading

Friday Fictioneers: Childhood Memories

Madison has another guest Photo Prompt this week. And boy does it bring back some good times. But I'm not looking towards the past I'm moving forward. So are these folks sort of. 

Excuse me if I gag a little. How I pulled this off with out vomiting in my mouth at it's sugary sweetness is a freaking miracle. Sadly it was my best offering. 

Photo by Lura Helms

Childhood Memories

The child inside her stretched and shifted. She framed her belly and smiled up. When she younger, this tree was the tallest peak. It was surrounded by volcanoes, and ice floats. It was a tower above a thick forest.

“I remember our first kiss.” She said. Jarred peered down the tree at his best friend. He fell in love with her, in this tree.

“Yeah, me too. I was a pirate and you were my wench.” She yawned, he climbed down.

“Well, I’m still your wench and she needs a nap.” Great another chance to hold her.

"Yaargh" 

For more of the Blog Hop of the Friday Fictioneers you can head over the Facebook and check out the page. On Twitter #FridayFictioners. Or you can go to Madison Woods for the rules and see a list of Fictioneer contributors and click on them at random. Happy Reading

So Tomorrow is Wednesday

I realize that sometime later tonight I need to be posting the blog and vlog. Well let be honest kids that's going to happen unless there's another animal on the roof. What I haven't done for this week's Author was give them a heads up. Oops, my bad. I hit her up a few minutes ago on her blog. I hope she see it in time. I can always Tweet her.

What I have not done lately was post the photo prompt for you guys in case you want to join in on the Blog Hop each week. I felt bad about this morning when I woke up. So I checked to see if it was up yet and it wasn't. Maybe later.

I also haven't really done my Bean Counter.  Well I'm seriously thinking I should Change the day I do the Bean Counter because Thursday is such an odd day to comment about a week. Trust me I have a Bean Counter for the time since the last Bean Counter I think that one was last Saturday???

So here are the days that there isn't something scheduled Monday, Tuesday, Saturday and Sunday. I'd like to get three or more a week here.  I've been hitting that but I've really only been doing what I already have scheduled. I feel like the blog is going stale.

Is it me that going stale? Gawd I hope not. I might have to do something drastic like go on a diet or worse, find some half wit and date him seriously. Eghads! Let's not let it come to that.


But regardless this is tomorrow's book:

Trashy Mass Produced Romance With Vampires

My libido just mouthgasmed - I'm addicted to this shite and even the shame of it feels good.

Until later. Oh by the way, Chapter 8 is up on my website let me leave you the link: https://sites.google.com/site/readthisbytiatownes/home/the-new-god/the-new-god-ch-8-the-magic-killer

Notice, I left that whole darn thing up there this time. I want you to remember that, that's why. I think I have a waiting entry about that coming up that I have to finish for now just enjoy what's there.

Friday Fictioneers: Hide Out

This week's Photo Prompt comes from Amanda Gray. Very Nice! What's funny is that I totally procrastinated on this picture. I had an idea for something more ominous and sinister. It was gearing up to be something scary. Then after I wasted the entire morning doing nothing. 

I realized that I need to actually put it down. And when I did, something else came out completely.

Hide Out

“We’re the only building out here for miles of course they’ll find us."

“They don’t know this place like we do. They don’t know about the caves."

“Yeah great, if we could get to the caves from this place. We’re wide open, you ass."

Turner grabbed Wilson by the ear. Outside the desolate shelter, Turner kicked over a wood pile revealing a dark tunnel dug deep in the ground. He glared at Wilson until the other man blinked

“Cave.” Wilson said.

“Cave. I dug it two years ago. When these things arrived.”

“That’s back when...”

“When they killed my wife.”

For more of the Blog Hop of the Friday Fictioneers you can head over the Facebook and check out the page. On Twitter #FridayFictioners. Or you can go to Madison Woods for the rules and see a list of Fictioneer contributors and click on them at random. Happy Reading

Flash Fictioneer Friday: Berries and Pip

For once I actually got my story down to not 100 but 99 words! Yeah I'm awesome *wink
This week we have a truly lovely picture from Ms. Woods, which reminds me that I need to get my indoor herb garden situated. I want mint darnnit! But I'm getting off topic.


I challenge you to figure out where my inspiration for this week's offering comes from.

~ Pip saw the berries the first time last week. They were further up than he’d ever climbed before. He nervously groomed his nose while he made up his mind.

“Sweet looking berries there Pip” Bolo grunted as he nudged the young pup, just for nudging sake.

“They do look juicy, Bolo” Pip stammered.

Bolo tested the base of the the fruit heavy branch. “You’re small enough Pip. Go out and get em’, and you better not eat any of them.” 

Pip reached the berries just as Bolo squealed. The adder Pip escaped earlier, found it’s evening meal.

Pip smiled. ~

You can follow the Blog hop on Facebook,  Twitter #FridayFictioneers or right from the source over on Madison Woods.


Stay tuned for another entry over the weekend. I've got my hands on something NON-Fiction for once that just so happens to not have been published and I get to wax poetic all over it. 

Photo Prompt for Flash Fiction

Once again Ms. Woods has found a deliciously grand picture sure to inspire all kind of great short stories. I supposed I should get cracking on mine:

Over on the Facebook page, the thread discusses where this lovely picture came from. The story is that there is a very lucky writer who passes this everyday on his way to and from work. That man is blessed, whether he wants to admit it or not. Cheers to you, Lucky Bastard. I get to stare at a base.


Join in the fun on Friday with the Friday Fictioneers or if you just want to blog hop follow us on Twitter #FridayFictioneers.