Friday Fictioneers #39: you could jump right in.

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Curtis had waited for this day his whole life; his initial plan had been to fly to LA, rent a car, fill it with vodka, drive into the desert. He was going to have visions. As the time got closer, he thought more about the headaches. Then he read about a woman in Iceland who’d gone missing on a coach trip, only she hadn’t, she’d joined in with the search party. It’s a famous story, if you haven’t read it there’s something wrong with you. Iceland was an interesting place. There was the continental divide. You could jump right in.

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Friday Fictioneers #38: like something I did when I was drunk.

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It’s pointless isn’t it?

Yes.

There’s nothing to be done.

No.

I always thought…

I know. Do you know where you are now?

Yes.

Tell me. Tell me where we are.

They arrived at the doorway.

Is that how those things come when they’re new?

Can you remember anything from before? Do you ever wake up thinking, I did this thing but I can’t quite put my finger on it, that’s why I feel this way.

You mean like something I did when I was drunk?

Something like that.

Well there was this… and yet… but… something like that?

Yes.

Friday Fictioneers #37: Chunky read aloud.

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Chunky read aloud as they walked.

“The midgets, who dressed as schoolboys to carry out a series of muggings in the park near the comprehensive, were never caught, although a police spokesman was recorded as having said that one of them was possibly called Dave.”

Morgandorfer looked down.

“This is all medieval isn’t it? What are these, medieval wheelchair ramps?”

“It was a hospital, then it was bombed. The roof came off. After the war they were going to rebuild, but first they had a Christmas market. It was so successful they forgot about rebuilding. The ramps were for gurneys.”

Friday Fictioneers is a weekly photo-prompt flash fiction challenge, curated by the wonderful Rochelle Wishoff-Fields, and open to anybody. Full details here.

Friday Fictioneers #36: some other feature.

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Who do you think that was?

How would I know?

He looks surprised, doesn’t he? He looks surprised to have ended up at the top of a door frame.  Imagine that! The top of a door frame! Where would you say he thought he was going to end up?

You’re getting on my nerves now Mary.

Is that a cornice, would you say?

No, I think it’s something else, some other feature. Did you bring the money?

And what’s that hat he’s wearing?

The money Mary, you cunt.

Well. There’s no need to be rude. I have your money Desmond.

Friday Fictioneers #35: freedom.

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Which fish do you want son? A red one or a white one?

I don’t want a fish daddy.

You have to have a fish son. It’s the law. Red or white? Come on, you’re free to choose. We’re not coming back for five years, you know. That’s the law too.

I don’t want a fish daddy. I want something else. The fish don’t represent me.

You’re trying my patience now son. There isn’t anything else! Of course they don’t represent you, they’re fucking fish! It’s the best system we have! Come on, choose now or you’re going to jail!

Friday Fictioneers is a weekly photo-prompt flash fiction challenge, curated by the wonderful Rochelle Wishoff-Fields, and open to anybody. Full details here.