Friday Fictioneers Jan 30, 2015

Dusk was falling fast on the high security prison, filling Ray's cell with an eerie dusty light. Anticipating his last meal, Ray knew he had chosen well, T-bone steak, baked potato; corn, a whole wheat bun and apple pie ala-mode.

Later, the guards came and led him down the long hall to the electricity room, where they put him in a chair and tied a black hood over his head.

After making sure he was secure, the old guard yelled, “Ready! Set! Power the juice!”

Ppppzzzzzzzzzttt

(Ray wasn't dead).

Ppppzzzzzzzzttt

(Still wasn't dead).

“Oh hell! Get em' up. He lives.”

  • ~100 words~

copyright: Ted Strutz

It is time once again for Friday Fictioneers, which is graciously hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Our challenge is to write a story, using the photo prompt given, with a beginning, middle, and end, in 100 words or less. It's fun. Join us.

If you are interested in participating, click:

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Addicted to Purple


 

 

Once Upon a Time

Once Upon a Time is a little diner on the corner of 5th and Broadway, right across from my dismal room at the boarding house. Sometimes I go there and have coffee, or something to eat, just to be around people and the busyness of their lives. When I am not at the diner, I am standing at my window wishing I was. Once upon a time I hitchhiked the famous Route 66. Once upon a time it brought me here. Once upon a time I had someone in my life. Once Upon a Time is my kind of place.


100 Words

copyright: Jean L. Hays

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Addicted to Purple. Each Friday she selects a photograph that we use to create a story of 100 words or less. If you are interested in joining the challenge please click on this url for more information:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/01/07/2-january-2015/

 

The Light

Photo Credit: Bjorn Rudeburgs

The intense sun beats down on my skin and burns like fire. My body aches but I must not give up. I have to try and live. The bruises and sores scream with pain from his continued beating, and I ache for it to stop. My mouth is parched and feels like dry cotton. I gasp for more air. Breathe. No, I must run!

I hear a brook and taste it's cool water quenching my thirst. A heavenly white light is calling me, showing me the way on this incredible staircase. I must go now… Finally, no more pain.

~~~~~~~~~~ 100 words ~~~~~~~~~~

My submission for “Friday Fictioneers” sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Addicted to Purple. This week being hosted by Dawn, author of, “The Day After.” Our assignment this week is to write a fictional story using the photo prompt. The story must be 100 words or less.

 

 

 

Joey’s Home Now

Joey was only 15 years old, but felt much older. His dad left when he was twelve years old. After that, it wasn’t easy for his mom. Joey got odd jobs here and there, but couldn’t get a real job since he wasn’t old enough. He was often home caring for his little sisters while their mother worked the street corner. Joey didn’t find this out until the night she got arrested. Next, they came and took his little sisters away.

This is Joey’s home now. He sleeps under the cold, steel bridge. Right along with all the other disposables.

 

Rochelle’s link:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/12/10/12-december-2014/