Tag Archives: Photo Prompt

What Matters

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
(100 Words)

For Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers based on this photo prompt by  © Jellico’s Stationhouse


A Tiny Interruption

photo prompt by Jules Paige.


The gray, overcast skies matched his mood. John had a bad habit of staying in relationships long past their demise. She was waiting for him at the end of the pier. Their spot. John was beginning to regret that he didn’t suggest they meet at the cafe on the corner.

“Hey. Hope you haven’t been waiting long,” he lied. He was late, hoping she’d get mad and leave, allowing him to do this by text. No such luck.

Darla turned around when she heard his voice. She had been crying. “There you are,” she sniffled.

“I’m sorry I was late. Darla, we need to talk.”

“We do John. I’ve been sitting here wondering how I was going to tell you this. But you go first,” she looked at him through tear stained eyes.

“No. You go ahead.” Maybe she realized it too, John hoped. Then he wouldn’t have to be the bad guy.

Darla sighed, “I’m pregnant John. We’re going to have a baby.”

kat – 31 March 2017
(164 Words)

For Sunday Photo Fiction based on his photo prompt by Jules Paige.

 
 


No place like…

PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria


I grew up on an island. My family’s business was fish.

All us kids had jobs. Mine was collecting fish guts, tails, heads in a bucket; bait for the next day’s catch.

I hated it; the salty air, the fishy smells and slimy ooze.

When I graduated from college I landed my dream job and settled in the city, as far away as possible from the coast.

My company recently transferred me to its new office. “You’ll love the view,” they said.

Funny! Ended up where I started but with a bird-eye view. Have to admit, I do love it.

kat – 30 March 2017

For Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s Friday Fictioneers challenge based on this photo by Fatima Fakier Deria.


Twittering Tales #23 – 28 March 2017

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About the challenge:  Each Tuesday I will provide a prompt, and your mission, if you choose to play along, is to tell a story based on that prompt in 140 characters or less.

If you accept the challenge, be sure to let me know in the comments with a link to your tale. A final note: if you need help tracking the number of characters in your story, there is a nifty online tool that will count for you at charactercountonline.com.

I will do a roundup each Tuesday, along with providing us a new prompt.

Have Fun!

——————————————–

Twittering Tales #22 – The Round Up

from Willow at Willowdot21

We saw her every day
Rain, dry she made her way
Never knowing what she carried
Moving fast she never tarried.
Once she smiled at us,like the sun
(140 Characters)

From Mick at Mick E Talbot Poems

Located one thousand one hundred and eighty eighty miniatures. Miss Johnsons satchel is getting extremely heavy. Only eight more then home.
(139 Characters)

From Vaidehi at Young Mind

“There’s still half way to go”-The matron who was acutely into trekking said.Only some have the courage to chase their dreams in senescence.
(140 Characters)

From Michael at Morpethroad

She labours her way to and from the shop.
In all weathers, she plods her way along.
Carrying all that is dear to her.
Head down, mind focused.
(140 Characters)

From Lady Lee at Lady Lee Manila

A woman with a song
And all her belongings
Lost and feeling desperate
She’s searching for love
No more pain
No more heartache
Just love
(129 Characters)

From Ramya at a Logophile’s Corner

The old lady visited the faraway market daily to buy strawberries from the poor girl.Her backyard strawberry garden smiled at her secret.
(Character Count:138)

From Kathryn at Another Foodie Blogger

Best get this week’s delivery over with, Ol’ Nellie muttered to herself. It’s a thankless task, but who else would feed her prisoners?
(134 Characters)

From Di at Pensitivity101

He’d been ill he said, unable to get out.
Could she possibly get him a few things.
Approaching his tent, she understood why he wanted seed.
(137 characters)

From Sangbad at Thoughts of Words

It’s being two years her son and two months her only grandson was taken. A surpassed growl made her smile. The hunter on machan take aim.
(137 Characters)

From Francine at Woman Walking Max

“must tell Kalinka, don’t you marry that boy. His family it’s tainted, bring shame on ours. Stubborn girl she loves him…”
(99 characters)

From Reena at Reinventions

Ugh! The print on your backside, and the patterns on your shape… No wonder, your walk is labored. You need a stylist, before you hitchhike
(140 characters)

From Jane at Jane Dougherty Writes

Baba Yaga dragged the bag into the bushes & scattered the contents. ‘That’ll learn ’em,’ she said to her house on chicken’s legs & cackled.
(139 Characters)

From Susmitamukherjee at Uniquesus

The old gypsy fortune-teller

She trotted back home gloomy holding her satchel. What she prophesied today was ill-fated.”Fancy a better day of luck tomorrow,” she hoped.
(140 characters)

From Martin at Martin Cororan

‘I don’t understand it,’ said the Russian doll, ‘These shopping bags are getting bigger and home is getting further away!’
(123 characters)

From Kirst at Kirst Writes

Humans saw our alpha-numeric system as floral patterns, my map as eccentric clothing. The portal was around the corner. I was nearly home.
(138 characters)

From Peter at Peter’s Ponderings

Hildegard scanned the track again. Yesterday she found 27. Today maybe more. If she could find just 35 she’d be able to escape at last!
(136 characters)

From Irena at Books and Hot Tea

Every day she walks through their words.
Witch! Hag!
Misplaced hate. Her herbs healed, never caused pain. Witches are misunderstood healers.
(138 characters)

And my weird tale…I added the title after first posting it so as not to confuse anyone. My take on this interesting lady was bright and joyful helping souls pass from this life to the next. ❤

Eternity’s Midwife (Dedicated to some compassionate Hospice volunteers I have known.<3)

Miss Nellie had a way with birthin’. “Laboring takes long as it takes,” she’d say. When time came she’d sigh, “go on now, heaven’s awaitin.”

(140 Characters)

There were some interesting tales this week. A few of you told me that this one was a bit more challenging. Thank you so much for jumping in and giving it a try. If this prompt challenged you, I could not tell. Well done!

For the coming week, I found this interesting photo on Pixabay. These things can be seen and heard buzzing overhead everywhere. I’m thinking there a quite a few tales just waiting to be told. What do you think? Is it an alien canvassing device or it a spy’s tool of the trade. Maybe it’s just some guys very expensive “toy”.  Of course there is more. What image is it capturing? Oh the possibilities! Tell me what you think in 140 characters or less, of course. And have fun!  Alas, I am droning on…(I hear you groaning!) I’ll let you get to it!  Here’s mine…

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Drone – Photo From Pixabay.com

After the coup each person was assigned a tracking drone. Privacy was a novel concept from the past, hidden in the footnotes of history.
(131 Characters)

kat – 28 March 2017


Penny’s First Word

For Jane Dougherty’s Sunday Strange Challenge based on this painting by Ford Madox Brown.

Ford_Madox_Brown_-_Pretty_Baa-Lambs_-_Google_Art_Project

Painting by Ford Madox Brown – Pretty Baa-Lambs

“Pretty Baa-Lambs” her mother said, “baa, baa, baa. Penny can you say it? What do the pretty lambs say?”

Penny was not having it. Her mother called her stubborn. Maybe she was, but Penny did not like this new game her mother always wanted to play.

“Momma,” her Mother would say, leaning in closer, eyes bulging, mouth puckering, smacking the syllables in a grotesque litany of sound bites, “Maaa…mmm…aaa…mAAA…mmmm…AAA.”

It was a never-ending battle. Everything, it seemed had a name. There was a word for each want. “Why wasn’t crying and cooing enough? It had always worked in the past. What was it with these people?” Penny thought to herself as she continued her resistance.

Then one day she heard a lovely word. An amazing word! It was not her mother, but her father who uttered it loud and clear for Penny to hear.

“I like that word.” Penny thought. She decided to say her new favorite word the next time her mother started one of her sound-it-out-say-it, ‘momma’ rants.

For her very first word, Penny smiled innocently at her mother, eyes wide with excitement, as she curled her tongue back and set her top two teeth into a perfect overbite…”FUCK!”

Penny had never seen her mother react so. It was wonderful! So wonderful, she repeated it over and over again, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She was a proud baby that day. Very proud indeed!

~kat – 23 March 2017