PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
Up ahead I saw the watering can. Green.
Damn it.
Immediately, I spun on a heel and walked back the way I came. As soon as I hit the city proper I weaved in and around traffic and headed along the path I’d mapped out in my head so long ago. Sweat bloomed over my face, the heat rising in my panic. Every moment of the past few years played back in my mind. I heard “run” beat like a drum in my chest where my heart should be.
If I could reach the drop zone I’d be safe.
If.
The is a Friday Fictioneers prompt
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Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart
The noticeboard said, “Ghost Tours – guaranteed to make you scream.”
“Well, that sounds brilliant,” Sharon said.
The girls and I all agreed and signed up for the next tour.
It started off pretty lame. And we were—admittedly—pretty tipsy.
When Sharon whispered something transparent brushed past her, we laughed it off. Sharon always sees someone in the dark—usually in a pub.
The streetlight flickered. Our tour guide disappeared. None of us recognized the alley we were in.
Footsteps on cobblestones approached. Scrape, click.
Scrape, click.
Too bloody right I screamed as our blood splattered the stone walls.
This is a Friday Fictioneers prompt
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Word Count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
You would never know for looking at it. The house seemed perfectly normal. Not a single hint leaked of what lay beyond the door.
Sara knew. She visited often. She’d first met her strange neighbors when running up the street, chased by a pack of bullies from school. They’d ushered her inside to safety before she had the chance to examine them properly. They were either aliens or monsters. Not people from earth with those horns and tails and sharp teeth. They were absolutely lovely. She’d felt safer with them than anyone. Tonight, she could even walk outside with them.
Bit late I know but, happy Halloween!
This is a Friday Fictioneers Prompt
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Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
I lost my Nana this week and I am still a bit numb about it. We knew it was coming but all I can think about is her sitting at my dining table a month ago happily eating a meat pie—her favourite—and talking excitedly about her beloved Magpies playing in the upcoming Grand Final. I’m not sure she even knew they won in the end things seemed to happen so fast, but she was laughing that big happy laugh of hers and winding my partner Gerry up—something she knew I loved to do. He took it well as he always does. I mean, who says no to a 97-year-old.
97 years is an amazing life. She’d experienced a lot in her long life. A lot of world and technology changes. None of us would be here without her. I know that without my Nana and Poppa’s love for reading and books I wouldn’t be the writer I am today. I was always sorry the text was so small in my printed books. It meant nana couldn’t read them. Mind you, she only read romances, so I was probably out of luck there anyway. She still made my dad take her to the library every week for books. He had a print out of hundreds of books so she wouldn’t “double up” (I hear—but don’t tell anyone one—she even put a little mark on the inside covers so she knew which ones she’d already read.) She was still reading at 97. Even with her bad eyesight.
Where my Poppa was creative with paint and wood, my nana had skills in what seems like everything else. She sewed clothing, knitted toys and dolls and clothes, crocheted blankets and cushions, made tapestries, baked the best treats, and cooked everything… It seemed there was nothing she couldn’t do. She taught, or tried to (in my case) us grandkids how to cook and bake and knit and make tapestries. I think even her great grandkids are taking after her with arts and crafts now. And speaking of baking, Nana and Poppa’s house always smelt of the yummiest deserts—cookies, slices, pies, cakes—Oh the scones! Her baking and cooking was the best. I know I wish I had her talents in the kitchen (I’m sure Gerry wishes I did too!) The three-layer biscuit tin was always full when you went over to visit. And her Christmas pudding and apple pies were incredible. Somehow, she even managed to make leftovers taste amazing.
She introduced me to musicals and romances. What she called watching her “stories.” (Ladyhawke is still one of my favourite movies.) She was where I got my love of musical theatre from. I think the first movie I remember her showing me was Carousel, and she was the one who took me to the movies to see Beauty and the Beast (still a favourite – I mean Belle loved books!)
Her laugh always made me laugh too. She told me she didn’t understand why some “oldies” were so cranky and angry all the time. It’s better to laugh she said and enjoy life. She wouldn’t have understood the last month, but she’s with my Poppa now so I bet she’s super happy about that. He’ll be glad she finally “caught up.”
I’ll miss her. I’ll miss being called Julie, Dellys too! (I was always the third name she listed). So, go and have some apple pie in her memory and have a good laugh. She’d want it that way (Oh, and don’t forget to sneak a tiny chocolate bar too!)
PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox
The chill of the air got into the bones like the weather itself knew. It was certainly reflective of my mood. I bundled myself up tighter and trudged along the path eyeing the wooden palings of the fence as I passed. Memories assailed me as if they were hard blows causing my breath to catch, and making me want to double over at the sense of loss that envelopes me anew. I hear a laugh, I see a smile, a cheeky grin and I know you are at peace now. The earth spins, the stars burn bright, and I laugh.
FOR NANA
Sorry for the sad one folks…
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Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
A fun, frolicking adventure about five kids with a mystery to solve!
Eleven-year-old Oli is spending his school holidays at Heroes Club, where kids can build friendships and learn about their emotions, but Oli just wants to be home … where it’s familiar, not-so-boring and he can play his favourite game.
But when Oli and the other kids at the club see a stray dog who keeps disappearing into a soon-to-be-demolished building across the street, Oli and his four fellow heroes hatch a daring rescue plan to save the dog before it’s too late.
It’s going to take bravery, some seriously smart teamwork … and a few broken rules.
My Thoughts
This is a fantastic story about a group of young children who attend a holiday Heroes Club where they build friendships and learn exercises to understand (and recognise) their emotions and the emotions of those around them. It is also a club where the families of these children are taught exercises to help understand (and accept) their child’s unique needs. But this special heroes club does something more. These children do not think themselves heroes but discover they truly are when they work together (despite being dismissed) to save a mysterious stray dog. Through their week at Heroes Club these children form unlikely bonds and showcase their unique strengths and skills.
These is a lovely story that had me surprisingly emotional by the end. This books shows the uniqueness and range of the autistic spectrum. These children can be loud or quiet, active or still, friendly or withdrawn… It is a spectrum and they can appear all along it. This is a brilliant story about acceptance and adjustment, of finding themselves and seeing themselves and accepting themselves for who they really are. This book should be read by families of all types. Not only for autistic children to see themselves in, but for families and young siblings of autistic children working to understand and wanting to help. As well as for classmates and/or teachers who might want a better understanding of how to best communicate with and be better friends with neurodiverse children. A terrific book for any reader who may be anxious or self-conscious or overwhelmed about their place in the world. Read The Unlikely Heroes Club now.
PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young
They appeared in the middle of the night. Lights, hundreds of them, across the corn field. For anyone watching they moved forward and back, and around in circles. You could not see if the lights were held by anyone… or anything… only that they moved as one.
The following morning intricate circles stood where the corn once swayed. Strange shapes with no discernible pattern or logic. The people shrugged their shoulders. Weird, was all they would say. They locked their doors at night. Stayed away from the fields.
“Why don’t they reply?” The interstellar visitors wondered.
“Perhaps, they cannot read?”
This is a Friday Fictioneers prompt
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Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
PHOTO PROMPT © Rowena Curtin
She sat on the steps leading to the small hut and stared at the water. So peaceful now. Yet last night while the storm raged, rain had pounded the ground so hard it was like nature had been trying to cleanse the land. She’d huddled inside, hoping the nearby water would not rise at the torrent joining it when she’d seen a light.
In the water.
It wasn’t possible. She’d watched it appear and grow larger. She’d seen a splash. A giant tail.
She eyed the vodka bottle at her side. Seal unbroken.
She sat watching the water and waited.
This is a Friday Fictioneers prompt
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Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz
She snuck in late at night. All the equipment was there, and it was the perfect set up. The cameras were spoofed. Security was redirected and distracted. Hacking humans and human technology was easy-peasy – well, if you had magic anything was easy-peasy.
The outfits took three nights of hard work – especially after clearing up the evidence of her work. No magic could help with that.
The heist took thirty minutes. Waitress, security guard, cleaner. The score… evidence of the refugee elvish settlements. Well… Not any longer. She whistled as she portalled away, her costumes stuffed into the trash can outside.
This is a Friday Fictioneers prompt
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Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast
She had ten minutes at most to go through every book on the shelf. Checked every closet shadow, kicked over every toy. She eyed the desk. Too obvious, and yet… She lifted everything, tugged the chair out and yanked on the drawers upending them on the floor. Not here. The book was not here. Where? She spun a circle. Under the bed! She dropped to her knees and crawled beneath the mattress. The door shuddered. She held her breath. The door stayed closed. There tucked under the bed slat – The diary! She’d found it. Now to escape without being seen.
This is a Friday Fictioneers prompt
You can read more FF prompt responses here
Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
Rambles, writing and amusing musings 