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…?
Category Friends
Genius – Friday Fictioneers
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 – Randy Mazie
– Genius –
Gerald shook his head, then stared at his friend.
To his own satisfaction, Marty couldn’t hold his gaze. “I did what you said. Didn’t I?”
“Really? D’you really think I wanted this?”
“You said you wanted to feel horny again, if it was the last thing you did.”
Gerald sighed. Even as a genie, Marty was a sandwich short of a picnic.
“Idiot! I meant horny as in teenage hormones, you know?! For goodness sake…!”
Marty slumped onto his oversized lamp, rubbing it absentmindedly. “So you didn’t want to be goat in a graveyard then? You didn’t want this to be the last night of your life…?”
No, I didn’t. Now do something about it before I kill you instead…!”
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Click the blue froggy to read other writers’ offerings – and enjoy!
Unreachable – Friday Fictioneers
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 – David Stewart
– Unreachable –
I can’t reach you any more. You’re distant, your eyes aren’t with me. You look the same, but you’re no longer you.
I think about when we were small, and the world seemed so big. Even though it was just our back yard, the brambles and creepers were our jungle, our wilderness, our desert, our uncharted territories. We were mercenaries, vagabonds and pirates. We climbed the mainsail to the crow’s nest, shouted out ‘Land Ahoy!’ and hoisted a Jolly Roger high, so achingly, heart-stoppingly high, from the old oak tree above our heads.
I can’t reach you now. You just see a ladder, where I still see adventure. You’ve let the world crush you.
You’re gone.
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Freya Writes... 