Photo Copyright-Roger Bulto
I saw you yesterday as you crossed the parking lot, a discreet glance my way. Arrogance compelled you. You still have that charming smile, a smile that possessed me.
The woman by your side had my features, exactly your type. Did she notice your faraway eyes on me?
Before the urban sprawl, we came here together. Tree-lined fields of tall grass and wildflowers provided the perfect cover. You left me, buried in fertile earth, strangled with lovely vines.
You remember my vines, the ones that drive you to return to me with each flower you possess. You never forget your first.
This 100-word story was written for Friday Fictioneers. I haven’t participated in this prompt in quite a while. I’m back for at least this week. If you would like to read the other stories, click the badge.
***It was brought to my attention (by my husband) that my story may be too vague. I asked for his interpretation, and he had nothing. Eventually, I wrenched it from him. He was way off. Perhaps it is too vague. As the writer, I think it’s easy to see the entire story in your words, and we assume it’s obvious to the reader. Of course that is not always the case. Now I’m interested to know how others interpret the story. Please let me know. Should I revise? I feel a bit off my game.
I’ve been absent from my blog for a couple of weeks and unfortunately missed last week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt. Life does get in the way sometimes. I’m back, at least for this week’s photo prompt.
I would like to thank Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for always being the gracious and diplomatic host to well over 100 creative (and sometimes temperamental) writers. Her job is not easy. I want to say that I appreciate all the effort and time she puts into the prompt, her weekly story, and the many, many comments and “Likes” to all. She is a generous person. Continue reading
This 100-word story is Part 3 of The Accident, written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue the story of Detective Stuart Leale, and I’m still not sure how I feel about it. It was difficult to write part three (in 100 words) and make it a stand alone story, yet fit with the other two pieces. If you haven’t read Parts 1 & 2, I will make it easy for you:
He searches his face in the mirror and smirks at his 58 years of hard-earned wrinkles. They are reminders. Stuart often relives his ingenious triumphs, but lately, one in particular feeds his ego; that defining moment his brother Charlie died.
Charlie was their favorite, their golden boy, their reason to live. After he was born, Stuart was forgotten. His resentment festered.
“Charlie’s so smart, much smarter than Stuart,” his mother always said.
“Finally, a perfect child,” his father always replied. Continue reading
The tattered flyer stapled to the pole asks,
Have you seen me?
Missing: February 27, 2005.
DOB: January 4, 1985.
Last seen hitchhiking –.
I remember the day she went missing, shocking our pastoral farm town; suddenly, no longer exempt from real world horrors. Some still held out hope, certain she’d return, remaining vigilant in their search. Others were more rational.
Her family and the town deserve closure; need to put her to rest. Today she’ll return, on the anniversary of her disappearance. I grab the shovel and go out back into the field to unearth the long dead mystery.
This 100-word story was written for Friday Fictioneers. To join in the writing fun or to read more stories, click the badge below: