STORM DAMAGE

The boxes of her water-damaged possessions took up three-quarters of the hotel room.

Until the destruction caused by Hurricane Matthew was repaired this was her home. The restoration firm said they would gain access next week. Until then, all she could do was sit and wait.

The flowers of condolence sat on the table. They stared at her, a constant reminder.

Bill was missing presumed dead, a victim of the storm.

She prayed that the cement in the cellar had dried in time and held once the water receded.


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Copyright Dale Rogerson

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

HITMAN

Phillips pressed himself against a wall. The alleyways of the old town were the ideal place to confront his pursuer.

He had noticed her in the bar earlier. He flattered himself that she was paying particular attention to him out of personal attraction.

She had followed him when he left. Hitmen were becoming dangerously attractive these days.

The footsteps drew closer.

‘Are you willing to negotiate?’ Phillips called out.

‘My employer will accept only one outcome.’ Her voice was smooth as silk.

Phillips consoled himself that this time was self-defence.

He raised his switchblade to neck height and stepped out of the shadows.


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© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

The character of Phillips previously appeared in my short story OLD FRIEND.

SUNRISE / SUNSET

Peter Jones was born at sunrise on a summer’s day.

He enjoyed a happy childhood, living with his loving parents and two older siblings in their small one bedroom tenement flat.

He enjoyed playing with his friends, kicking a football up and down the street. At school he enjoyed sports and reading stories of lands far away.

The war started when he was 14. When he turned 18 he was called up for military service.

He enjoyed the camaraderie of his fellow soldiers during brief training with the infantry. His first trip abroad was part of the D-Day landings. He looked forward to seeing a foreign land for the first time.

On Gold beach, near Arromanches, he survived the onslaught while many of his new friends perished.

Two days later Peter Jones was shot by a German sniper while enjoying a cigarette watching the sunset over the town of Bayeux. As he took his last breath he thought it was the nicest sunset he had ever seen.

He died alone in the field and was buried in an unmarked grave next to a church.


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Copyright Footy and Foodie

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

LITTLE SISTER

Daniel placed the doll carefully on top of the pile.

He struck the match and held it next to the teddy bear.

The flame grew. It consumed all the toys.

When his mother came running out the house it was too late.

***

‘Why did you burn your sister’s toys, Daniel?’ his father asked him that evening.

‘Because Mummy’s always crying in Lily’s room with them.’ Daniel said. ‘I was trying to make her happy again.’

His father gave Daniel a hug and kissed him on the head.

‘It’s not the toys that make her sad, Daniel.’


charred-toys
Copyright Karuna

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

WRECKAGE

The forensic investigators had gone. The security forces had abandoned the scene. Demolition signs and safety warnings adorned the perimeter fence that surrounded what was left of the museum.

I stumbled through broken piles of furniture, shattered glass and mangled steel. Rubble and dust covered everything.

They told me she may never be found. If she had been standing next to the bomber there may be no remains. They had tested all the samples they had lifted. Results were inconclusive.

My daughter was listed as missing presumed dead. I searched on through the wreckage.

My life lay in the ruins around me.


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Copyright J. Hardy Carroll

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

The scenes from Manchester are very much in my mind this week. My thoughts are with everyone involved, especially the parents and children. My apologies if this piece upsets anyone reading it.