PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
“It has potential.”
“Um, if you say so.”
“Picture this John. The kitchen goes here.” Molly tossed a shelf out of the way, sweeping her arms to display her vision. “This space is perfect for an open floor plan. Just look at those rafters! The bathroom is already plumbed. We just need new fixtures and…and…”
“Molly, you said ‘we’. You remember I’m an accountant right? I don’t know anything about…”
Molly laughed and nuzzled into him, “I know, silly. We can afford a contractor at this price. So…?
He couldn’t say no. “Well, looks like we bought a warehouse house!”
For Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers Flash Fiction challenge inspired by this photo by J. Hardy Carroll.
PHOTO PROMPT © ROGER BUTOLT
“What’ll it be ladies?” Joe asked.
“Dessert!” Sue smiled.
“Something sweet! But not too sweet.” Julie sighed.
“Come on Julie,” Debra chided, “go for it! We’re celebrating!”
“Oh yeah? Whatcha celebratin’?” Joe asked as he displayed his sweetest pies to three sets of wide eyes.
Sue declared proudly, “Well, we have lost a total of 100 pounds between us!”
“Wow! I’m guessing you want whipped cream on top?”
Julie giggled, “Yes sir!”
Joe winked, “Coming right up!”
From a table nearby a child whined, “Mama, why can’t I have just desserts?”
The diner’s patrons burst into laughter and applause.
For Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers photo prompt.
PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young
“I found it.” Pam whispered.
“What are you whispering for? It’s not like you’re going to wake the dead!” Mark guffawed as he handed her the etching paper and pencil.
“Shhhh. Just give me the paper. I hate graveyards; damn history class!” Pam’s hands shook as she created an etching of the famous headstone.
“Do you believe the legend that says if you rub the headstone the old man will show up?” Mark sneered.
“No! God! Stop it Mark!”
Suddenly the temperature plummeted. Pam whipped around to scold Mark for his incessant laughter, but he was gone.
For Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers challenge based on this photo by Liz Young.
PHOTO PROMPT © DALE ROGERSON
The boom of a trash truck outside startled her. Her head was spinning.
“Where am I?” she gasped, fumbling for her clothes. As she dressed the sound of someone showering hummed from the next room.
“Why don’t I remember. Was I drugged?” she mumbled.
She grabbed her things and tiptoed past the bathroom; the front door in sight at the end of the hall, when she heard the water stop.
“You’re up! Where are you going so early?” his unfamiliar voice rasped from behind.
“Work. I have to go to work,” she whimpered not turning. The door was padlocked.
-kat – 12 April 2017
For Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers challenge based on this photo prompt by © Dale Rogerson
photo prompt by © Jellico’s Stationhouse
“What about that old bike?” the auctioneer asked. “Whippets draw a nice price. Collectors always looking for…”
“No,” Abby cut him off, “not the bike. Everything but the bike,” she turned away, tears burning down her cheeks.
“Whatever you say,” he retorted, “just trying to…”
“The rest goes,” Abby repeated. Mom’s china, the silver, Grandma’s Waterford stemware, Daddy’s ivory straight razors, century old heirlooms and the family homeplace; all would soon be cashed in to pay the medical bills.
Grandpa taught her to ride on that bike. His bike. She would ride again. “No, not the bike, Grandpa” she whispered.
kat – 6 April 2017
For Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers based on this photo prompt by © Jellico’s Stationhouse