Friday Fictioneers #48: one way or another.

kitche-picture-prompt

After we’d put her in the ground we had a drink, then went back to the house. It was shuttered up, the power cut off. Inside, Leonie wanted coffee.

There’s no power.

There’s gas. I see a bottle.

OK.

I put the percolator on. As it started to hiss and bubble and burn, Leonie looked around.

Why’s the power off?

Has been for years. She thought she was allergic to electricity.

She some kind of survivalist? she asked, indicating the flashlight and the fire extinguisher.

She was. The end couldn’t come soon enough for her.

One way or another.

Yeah.


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 #47: through that gap in all his glory.

c-hase

This is where it all began he said, he came through that gap in all his glory and laid it down.

That right?

It’s in the bible, man is born free but everywhere he’s in chains.

That the bible?

Yep. Black and white.

I yawned. It was early.

What’s on the other side of the gap? I asked

No-one knows.

I turned away from the sea and crouched down by the giant chain, poked a finger into some algae. Otto was an idiot but he was the only one willing to bring me here. The others were wary of outsiders.


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 #46: everything else they destroyed.

pleisiosaur_

When I was five he took me to a section of the compound I hadn’t realised was there. Its gate had many locks and he forced them open, pushing me through the space: there stood an obscene sculpture gone to rust, an oval path circumnavigating it.

“This was all the puffins left when they abandoned the city,” he said. “Everything else they destroyed. They worshipped it as a god.”

“They worshipped a fish-monster?”

He nodded.

“I saw them at it once, processioning around it in the dark, clasping flaming torches, chanting Hallé-butt, Hallé-butt. They believed it would always protect them.”

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 #45: you only find an absence.

ff

Drinking Snakebite on the village green all afternoon, then at sunset Davey McAntee in his window cleaning van, asking who wants to go down London to that new club, the Slimelight. In the back of the van there are poppers and glue, and in the club a tall dark stranger sweeps you off your feet and separates you from the herd. Now your head hurts, your throat is sore, it’s dark again, you’re in a strange house. You stagger to the bathroom, broken glass nipping at your feet. In the mirror you look for yourself, but only find an absence.

Friday Fictioneers #44: parked.

parked

You have no life, you sold it to somebody richer than you in exchange for the crumbs from their table. You’re chronically exhausted, you’re dead inside, all  because you believed them when they said that this was the path to dignity, the only way. They promised you the earth as they yanked the rug from under your feet, quietly laughing. At least you get to look down on people who don’t work, thinking you’re better than them, that your slavery is more moral than their freedom. Grow up. Get over yourself. Your deranged envy is more obvious than you think.

Friday Fictioneers #43: Julian.

Image

Like most of us he was depressed. This we attempted to drown in drink and drugs, but there would always come the day when you’d need to put your body back together, and on that day reality would come rushing into the vacuum and you were fucked. On one of these days he attempted to hang himself from the one working light fitting, but it wouldn’t take his weight and he fell, twisting his ankle, snapping the cord. The next he knew he was moving along a wooden walkway toward a pagoda, over fields of verdant green. All was quiet.

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