Autumn Rain #FridayFictioneers

Bob hadn’t be able to offered a new shelter roof after the storm blew it off. He thought at first that his pub’s clients wouldn’t mind just standing outside. Summer was still lingering and the nights were warm and dry. Weeks later, autumn fully arrived, sweeping and washing away summer.

Bob needed a simple and cheap idea to give people shelter. Umbrellas had come to him as he had been watching the rain falling outside. He stock piled boxes full and fixed them across the roof frame. The shelter looked like the stage of a colourful musical but the pub’s clients loved it.

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/09/19/21-september-2018/ with thanks).

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Swim #FFfTPP

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Butch could swim for hours just like he chased balls, so combined he was in heaven. I enjoyed watching him; his yellow coat flowing across the water, his black eyes and nose pointed towards the ball. When he grabbed the ball, he would turn and come back with no encouragement, knowing his reward would be the ball thrown again.

That was how I would always remember him. Even when the cancer meant he couldn’t walk anymore and everything was a struggle. Saying goodbye to him was the worse day of my life. I didn’t just lose my best friend that morning, I lost myself too.

(Inspired by; https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2018/09/19/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2018-week-38/ with thanks).

Old Tech #3LineTales

three line tales, week 138: an old television set

Walking through the houses of the Old World, Peanut was always fascinated by the items they could find.

Today, she had turned up a dial TV which Grand Pops explained was used to show information in moving pictures with sound direct to people, but it had also been a part of the Old World’s downfall because it had forced everyone to stay inside.

The tale was easy to believe because generations of the last humans had remained behind the steel door and it was only now they were adventuring out to see what they ancestors had left them of the world.

 

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2018/09/20/three-line-tales-week-138/ with thanks).

Pillars #WritePhoto

It started out as a game of hide and seek which turned into a nightmare none of them could ever escape from.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/09/20/thursday-photo-prompt-pillars-writephoto/ with thanks).

Pumpkins #FFfTPP

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The pumpkin harvest had been great which had left the farm with a surplus, so they got inventive with selling them.

(Inspired by; https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2018/09/12/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2018-week-37/ with thanks).

 

Remaining #3LineTales

three line tales, week 137: an abandoned asylum

He liked how the light and shadows mingled together, he took a photo of the hallway. He wasn’t scared to be alone in the abandoned house, it interested him and he found a strange peace a way from the world. Still, he got a feeling that something wasn’t right…

 

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2018/09/13/three-line-tales-week-137/ with thanks).

 

To The Bullies #TwitteringTales

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May stopped in her daughter’s bedroom doorway and asked, “why are you breaking all your dolls?’

Jenny looked up at her mum from the Barbie she was dismantling on the floor, ‘because, this is what I want to do to the bullies.’

 

(Inspired by; https://katmyrman.com/2018/09/18/twittering-tales-102-broken-barbies-18-september-2018/ with thanks).

Posh #FFfAW

I wiped condensation from the stopped bus’s window and peered out. A road, stretching with lawns and trees which hid the houses, was before me. We where in the fanciest part of town and I always wondered what life was like for the people in those homes.

I pressed my head to the damp, cold glass. The voices of the comedy podcast I was listening to chatting away in my headphones. My thoughts were far away, picturing posh rooms and furniture that were more Victorian and Edwardian in nature then modern.

One day, I told myself, I’d live in one of those houses.

 

(Inspired by; https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/09/10/fffaw-challenge-182nd with thanks).

Stocking Up #TwitteringTales

September payday arrived, Kim had worked overtime to have enough money for her shopping spree. At the till, she watched the cashier cashing up everything.

‘That’s a lot of books!’ the cashier said, counting eighteen total.

‘It’s my winter stock pile,’ Kim replied, grinning.

 

(Inspired by; https://katmyrman.com/2018/09/10/twittering-tales-101-11-september-2018/ with thanks).

Turning #WritePhoto

The seasons where turning, Rachel noticed. The mountain which had been green all spring and summer was becoming a dull brown. In two or three months, Rachel knew it would turn white with snow. A foreshadowing for the other mountains, valleys and the towns within them.

The leaves on the trees were switching colours; the reds, yellows and browns like a dappled painting, framed by windows. Soon, those trees would be bare and Rachel disliked looking at them then. Maybe, someone would hang Christmas fairy lights in them like last year and make them pretty again?

Rachel really hoped that did happen as she spent yet another morning looking out of her bedroom window. It had become something of a habit for the eight am to twelve pm nurse to wheel the chair there and leave.

‘You have a lovely view here! You should enjoy it!’ the nurse might say or else it was, ‘Here, look at the rain,’ or ‘watch the sun light up the mountain this morning.’

Then the nurse would go off to do the tasks on her or his list; changing the bed, preparing the medication, cleaning the equipment etc. Sometimes they would come back to check Rachel was okay, do some vital checks, take some blood, change her tubes if needed.

Most of the time though, Rachel was left staring at the mountain, not being able to move herself or ask the nurse to. And how she wished she could! She hated that mountain and wanted never to see it again but it haunted her.

At night, Rachel would dream of the accident. She was climbing with friends, they were laughing, enjoying the first spring hike up the side. They were camping, cooking, singing, drinking, friends being together. They did this every year, it was normal but this time something was different. The snow hadn’t melted all the way, there was an avalanche. Everyone was screaming, running, falling, flying, dying.

The doctors said Rachel was lucky, she alone had survived somehow but she would never move again.

What kind of life is this? Rachel always thought, I’d be better off dead. I wish I’d died too. God, how I hate that mountain! I can’t bare to see it any more!

 

She would shut her eyes and try to moan. Sometimes that work and the chair would be wheeled away to another part of her bedroom or other part of the house.

The image of the mountain was burned into her eyelids and just like the sounds and sights of the accident, she could never escape.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/09/06/thursday-photo-prompt-turning-writephoto/ with thanks).