Friday Fictioneers again! Once more we pick up our pens and follow Rochelle as she gives us a photo to start and 100 words to play with. Make sure to check out all the rest of the storytellers HERE. And thanks to Roger Bultot for the photo this week.
Banion gripped the windowsill, waiting for the parade vanguard to appear. Waiting for HIM. That ignominious buffoon, that, that,
“Politician,” Banion spit out.
What right had he to close the museum? Simply to make a parking lot so HE didn’t have to walk. Saying the museum was past its time? It was art. Timeless. And Banion often let in the homeless to get warm, to gather, to be uplifted by the art.
He appeared, bald head shining as he waved. Banion gripped the smooth cherry stock, imaging tomorrow’s headlines:
Mayor silenced by Vigilante
Grinning, Bannion aimed the gun, fired.
100 words 🙂
’tis a tale for All Hallow’s Eve that I bring you today; a tale of two heroes, fearing nought. T’was for Castle Iskar they searched, rumors of tremendous wealth had long washed down the mountains with the storms. Bravely the men forded viciously flooded rivers, and followed obscure trails, til at last they came upon the deserted keep high in the mountains. In the highest tower of the highest corner, they found wealth untold gleaming. One started forward towards the sparkling pile, only to draw back as two ghosts appeared.”Come,” his companion remonstrated, “tis nought but spirits, they hast no power here.”
Thus fortified, the stalwart man stepped forward once more, reaching through the ghosts for treasure. No man had dared do so for centuries; and, as even spirits can be hungry, the two divided him up and ate him*, whilst his boon companion ran screaming back down the steps.
This tale was inspired by Rochelle’s prompt, but it also led me to one of my favorite books by David Eddings. One of his characters had a wonderful story about two hungry ghosts, and I did borrow his line exactly 🙂 Thanks to Rochelle for continuing to lead us each week, and thanks to Dale Rogerson for our picture as well. Check out the rest of the stories HERE.
*Pawn of Prophecy, the Belgariad
Due to the hecticness of my day last friday, I missed the Friday Fictioneers for the first time since I started following Rochelle’s lead. Argh! However, since the picture spoke to me, I decided to write the story for today 🙂 For any others that had a busy Friday and didn’t get to read another blog that had the link, check out all the stories from last Friday, August 14, HERE!
“Dude!” This time the brown wings quivered as Myron leaned towards Bruce. “Dude! Did I tell you the one about the two caterpillars slinking into a bar? Dude, they….”
Bruce tuned him out. Why did the kid follow him around anyway? I mean, damn, Bruce thought, I even picked the smelliest, busiest place I could find.
“Dude! Do you get it? Huh, huh? They were caterpillars dude!!”
Bruce saw the kid had crawled up on the window, laughing hysterically.
“Damn, kid, get down!”
Myron fluttered down, wings shaking, just as the window slid open.
“Follow me, we’re leaving.”
Somehow, that is rather the conversation I see between my large, older dog and the excitable little Schnauzer! Thank goodness Bruce is a good moth at heart!
Jon hit the wall. He was stuck in this rotten part of town. This was the last time he came to MaryAnn’s for the night. She could just truck over to his place. Why wouldn’t she want to anyway? Continue reading