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.

CONNECTION

He found the phone booth that would provide a secure landline connection.

He punched in the number. Two rings and a click.

‘Danny?’ Her voice was tired.

‘Did you do it?’ he asked. He pictured the blood-spattered body.

‘I had orders.’

‘I have to come after you.’

‘I’ll guess I’ll be seeing you.’ The line went dead.

Danny slammed the receiver down. She had promised she was finished.

He walked back to the apartment and turned on his smartphone. His location would be revealed immediately, the microphone would be recording. He dialled the office.

‘Detective Thompson. Senator Carmichael is dead.’


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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).

Although this stands alone as a piece of intrigue, in my mind it is a sort of sequel to a previous Friday Fictioneers story which you can find here: HAPPY NEW YEAR.

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.

OLD FRIEND

The grey clouds hung low over the surrounding rooftops. Phillips stood next to the gate. His breath formed small puffs of mist. He pressed his hands deeper into his pockets.

‘They sent you.’

Phillips recognised the voice from the other side of the gate. He had last heard it in the bar in Whitehall all those years ago.

‘They needed someone who could confirm your identity.’ Phillips peered through the small gaps in the gate’s bars. ‘Show yourself.’

Travers stepped out from behind the wall. ‘Satisfied?’

‘It’s good to see you.’ Phillips said.

‘And you, old friend.’ Travers replied.

‘Why did you do it?’ Phillips asked.

Travers shrugged. ‘Someone had to. Wars were being fought over false information.’

‘What about your loyalty to our government?’

‘Governments come and go.’

‘To your country then?’

‘What are countries but artificial borders dividing people. Better to sacrifice oneself and prevent nuclear war.’

Phillips knew his friend was genuine in his belief. ‘You know what my orders are.’

‘Can you do it though?’ Travers smiled.

Phillips pulled the gun from his pocket and fired two shots. Travers slumped against the gate.

‘Goodbye, old friend.’


200-05-may-21st-2017

Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). Hosted by Al Forbes. For more details visit HERE.

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

HUNTING SEASON

White gives way to green. Cold to warmth. Life returns.

I feel invigorated. Hibernation is over. Fresh blood runs through veins.

Months since anyone came through. It’s been lonely recently.

I’m eager to entertain. Soon the tourists will return.

The young and adventurous. The healthy and vital.

The thrillseekers. I’m happy to oblige.

The highway will open again.

Final checks. Rooms cleaned. Fresh sheets. Walls painted.

Into the office. Hit the switch. Neon light.

Motel. Open. $12 a night.

Just like Daddy before me. Keeping the family business running.

The swamp no longer frozen. A watery grave once more.

The axe is sharp. It’s not needed for firewood anymore.

All is ready. Now I wait.

It’s hunting season.


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Copyright Ioniangraphics

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.