Tag Archives: short stories

Friday Fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers rides again! Our photo prompt comes from Dale Rogerson this week as we all follow Rochelle on a mad romp through the fictional alleys of our minds. Make sure to check out all the other stories to see where they ended up here.

 100 words–on the nose this week!

“Hey, Vino Noble,” Nick said conversationally. “Mind if I have a glass?”

Without waiting, he snagged a glass and poured.

“Yes, my grandfather used to drink this. Came from the same part of the old country he did. Good man, my grandfather. Passed the family business down to me. Dad passed away young, guess Gramps pinned all his hopes on me.”

Sighing, Nick put down his glass. Picking up his gun, he tightened the silencer before pointing it across the table.

“It’s just business, you know,” he told the frightened  man. Nick took the bottle with him as he left.



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Once more we follow Priceless Joy’s lead–and, today her words:

This is my story for the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 75-175 words with which to create our stories. It is fun and everyone is invited to participate. For more information, click HERE.

To read all the amazing stories written for this challenge, click HERE. And thanks to Gina at Singledust for the vivid picture this week 🙂

Mattie stared wordlessly at the splendor before her.  Colors, colors were everywhere. All hues filled the store to the brim.

And the ladies sweeping through looking at the vibrant fabric, dressed in reds and golds,  hair up and faces powered.  The peacocks teacher talked about could not be so splendid.

Mattie glanced at her own simple homespun, suddenly ashamed.  Mattie huddled behind the counter so no one could see her. Her grandfather came out of the back room with the owner of the store.

She looked at her grandfather’s stern black, and all at once everything was alright again.  The store owner looked at him with respect, grateful that her grandfather brought his beautiful cloths to him.

She remembered him patiently showing her how to weave the dress she was wearing. Someday she would bring in the cloth, and receive the same respect.

She wiggled out from behind the counter, ignoring the fancy ladies. Her grandfather noticed, gesturing her to come over.

“Come, Maartje, it is time to go back to the village.”

“Yes, Yeye.”


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Friday Fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers rides again–and I get to play this week 🙂 As always, we are led by Rochelle–I do believe leading the roundup is much like the photo below! (especially as we try to keep our stories at 100 words) Thanks to Sandra for the photo this week; and be sure to check out her story and all the others HERE.

“Oh no, no,” Sandy mumbled as she looked at the open gate. And the empty pen beyond. Not a sheep in sight.

“No, oh no, no,” she chanted again as she turned south to scan the pastures.  Hoping that the sheep were wandering back to the grassland her dad  had brought them in from for shearing.

Sandy had fed them last night, but she hurried, needing to get to the dance. Christina wasn’t going to hog Jason  again. She hadn’t checked the lock.

And now the sheep were gone.

“Ooooh, no, no no!” she moaned as she trudged back to the house.




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