Battle Ready (Completely rewritten!)

June 24, 2015June 24, 201537 Comments

Is it time for Friday Fictioneers already?

Yes, it is.

Thank you, Rochelle, for all your hard work in obtaining the prompts each week.

Posted for June 26, 2015

PHOTO PROMPT – © Kent Bonham

In my rush to publish this morning I think I wrote my first DUD. So, I went back to the computer and completely re-wrote my entry. I feel better about it now. 🙂

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Battle Ready

The war between the tribes had been going on for centuries. Mirabella, now experienced enough to go to war, only needed her battle kit. She’d saved for some time to purchase the No.22 hanging there on the wall. It was more than she needed, yet contained all the essentials.

It was well known that this shopkeeper would sell to anyone. However, the garlic hung out front clearly indicated his preference. Holding her breath she ducked into the shop.

Paying him for her purchase, she grinned when she handed back the lantern and nasty dehydrated food.

She wouldn’t be needing them.

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100 words exactly.

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For some really great takes on the prompt please click on the little blue frog below!

Remember: The prompts are open to anyone. Why not give it a try?

Just click HERE to get started!

2015 – 1981 = 34

June 20, 2015June 20, 201544 Comments

We are a rare vintage,

aged,

mellowed with time,

content.

The Seekers – I’ll never find another you (1968)

Note: I started to clean up the photo in PhotoShop to make it perfect, but then changed my mind. After all, with 34 years on us we are a bit dusty and scratched. ❤ ❤ ❤

An Irrational Childhood Fear

June 17, 2015June 17, 201547 Comments

After another long hiatus I return with a flash fiction offering for Friday Fictioneers! Thanks, as always, goes out to Rochelle at Addicted to purple!

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An Irrational Childhood Fear

Returning as an adult for the reading of grandmother’s will, Madeline recalled when Grandmother had ordered the heavy bronze chandeliers. She hated them at once, and had always imagined that they would lower themselves down, clamp onto her head, and suck her brains out. She’d always given them a wide berth.
Musing about her silly childish fear of the lights, Madeline now found them quite lovely. It was then that Charley, her six-foot-five cousin, twice removed, walked under the chandelier.
She watched in horror as his hair grazed the central rosebud. The chandelier dropped, clamping tightly onto his skull.