Category Family

History Lesson – Friday Fictioneers

freyathewriter 33 Comments

Here is this week’s entry into the weekly challenge brought to us by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Here are the rules: Use the photo as inspiration, write a hundred(ish) words – and share! Here goes my offering for this week – and I welcome your comments again!

Copyright - Claire Fuller

Copyright – Claire Fuller

 

– History Lesson –

“Is this it, Grandad?”
“Yes, Tommy, this is it. We climbed up to the roof with buckets of water and bags of sand, and waited.”
“For the, the –“
“The Luftwaffe, that’s right.”
“But why did they want to firebomb the church? It’s not very important!”
“Ah, well. There was a big factory next door. That’s what they were after.”
“So, did they sometimes make a mistake?”
“Yes, so we had to stop the church burning down.”
“But why, Grandad?”
“Well, me and your Grandma wouldn’t have been able to get married here. Where would we be then?”
“And she wouldn’t have been buried here either, Grandad!”
“No, lad. Shall we take her these flowers, then?”

*****

Click the blue froggy to read other writers’ offerings – and enjoy!

 

Havana – Five Sentence Fiction

freyathewriter 19 Comments

It’s time for my second offering to Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction, a weekly prompt where there is no word limit, just a limit on the number of sentences. Plus, although she provides a word prompt, it is just for direction only – you don’t have to include the word itself in your contribution.

This week, the prompt is FABRIC. And this week, I managed not to use the word itself (result!).

Let me know what you think! And whilst you’re at it, why not take a look at everyone else’s offerings (I’m sure they’ll be fabulous), and even give it a go yourself…

*****

– Havana –

Laila surveyed the packed room, delighted at the brilliantly-clothed, rainbow-hued guests passing gently to and fro, each of them grasping a fizzing champagne flute.

The low murmur floating above their collective heads was punctuated frequently by echoing belly-laughs as small groups shared a joke, their joy bouncing off the walls and raising smiles all around.

“You’ve done a brilliant job, there’s not a sad face here, nor a shred of black,” said her uncle, giving her a reassuring squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “It’s everything that he would have wanted; a final last hurrah to send him on his way.”

“Chin, chin, Dad,” she whispered, and raised her own glass to the sky where she imagined him to be, smiling down on them all, fat cigar in hand.

*****

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Jankers – Alastair’s Photo Fiction

freyathewriter 8 Comments

Here is my offering for Alastair’s Photo Fiction this week, inspired by the photo below.  Why not take part? And why not visit his photography and writing blog to take a look at his other photos…?

Copyright - Kattermonran

Copyright – Kattermonran

– Jankers –

All the boys had second jobs when they weren’t on a tour of duty, but no way could you be working in Civvy Street whilst in uniform. Paul pictured his bag of clothes making their merry way on the 6.41am to Swansea without him. What an idiot.

Money was scarce these days, but the sight of his ice cream cart persuaded even the tightest fist to loosen up for a 99-flake, especially at his local hospital’s fundraiser. He scanned the crowds for signs of military bearing amongst the happy family groups. No, he was safe.

Satisfied, he crouched down, rummaging in his cart for more napkins. A shadow grew tall on the grass next to him, ram-rod straight, stretching out forever. Sweat prickled between his shoulder blades. Damn – he couldn’t even look the soldier in the face. If it was his Warrant Officer, he was done for….

“Corporal Jones! What the hell d’you think you’re playing at?”

Paul’s head snapped up, recognising the voice as if it was his own.

“Dad! Thank God! I though I was done for!”

“Here’s a change of clothes, son. Now get a move on before you get caught for real.”

*****

And for those of you scratching your heads at my choice of title this week, take a look here.