Ok, so I know I missed Friday. But I wanted to join the roundup led by Rochelle! I have been missing in action for weeks.
So here is my entry for the Friday Fictioneers, the story group she leads with a photo prompt and 100 words (more or less, I went a bit more this time). Make sure to check out all the other marvelous stories HERE. Thanks to Sarah Potter for our great photo this week 🙂
“Wow,” Greg said, sliding his finger along a blood-red, velvety flower. “What a greenhouse!”
“Thanks, ” Silla said. “I make my own special fertilizer. Wanna see?”
She led the way into the back of the greenhouse, wandering past long tables of flowers and vegetables before stopping.
“What’s this?” asked Greg uneasily, staring at the slick metal slab with straps. He turned to Silla, eyes widening as he saw the mallet; before collapsing on the table.
Silla smiled as she tucked the cattle rancher in, tugging the straps quite tight before starting the IV. She nodded at her plants as Greg’s blood slid into her mixer, already filled with bone meal from the last cowboy.
“There,” Silla said in satisfaction, “now instead of him killing animals, he’ll be helping you guys grow.
Tis the end of the week, and time for Friday Fictioneers again. This week’s intriguing photo prompt is thanks to Claire Fuller. As always, we strive to remain within 100 words while painting a picture based on, well, the picture. And, of course, thanks to Rochelle for running our ragtag group 🙂 Make sure to read all the other wonderful stories HERE, including Rochelle’s and Claire’s.
Craig held the stone lovingly, cleaning it with the cloth until it gleamed, mica particles catching the light. He placed it carefully on a shelf, selecting the bottom corner, a small square the perfect size.
Stepping back, Craig surveyed his treasures. Each held a memory, and only one space was left. A large box, it would take some thought to find the perfect item. Frowning, Craig leaned forward. The shell had blood on it. He’d thought he’d gotten it all. That one had been a mess.
Craig remembered that night, salt air, waves crashing, soft skin, the knife sliding in….
Time for Friday Fictioneers express to leave the station once more, and I am on board this week! Thanks again to Rochelle, for captaining this train of rowdy writers. And to Adam Ickes, for providing the photo to inspire us all 🙂 Check out all the other fabulous stories HERE.
The walk stretched out in front of Amber, seemingly endless. At the far end, the brightly colored pavilon stood, marking a diffent phase of her life. Was she ready?Family and friends waited, staring over the wood planks at her. Was she going to trip on over those rough boards?
“Are you ready?” her dad asked, cocking his arm at her.
Amber tightened her fingers, squeezing the stems of the bouquet. Ready? No, she really, really wasn’t. Pyramids, she wanted to see pyramids. And mountains, and deserts….
“Sorry Daddy,” she whispered as the flowers bounced off the planks at her feet.