Photo by CEAyr

“You drag me to these markets every, bloody, weekend! Nothing ever changes!” moans David, lagging behind his wife.

Linda turns to face her ‘dragging his heels’ husband and yells “Calm down! It is the one thing I ask you to do with me. How does it hurt you? Really!”

Then with wide staring eyes and gaping mouth, Linda watches her husband disappear into the sudden sinkhole, enveloped in a sand coffin. Before managing even to scream, the hole closes over David.

“Right! That’s different.” Linda chuckles and shaking her head, wanders off to listen to the band.

97 Words

Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here

Photo by Roger Bultot

I long for green.

The longing of the upper-middle-class.

In iso, but not without resources. Working from home, and income not an issue.

As I ride my computer each day, this is my view.

It could be that nothing is wrong. It could be just another day, in wonderland.

I long for green.

At least there is a glimpse of sun through clouds.

At least the smog has disappeared.

I could be here alone in this metropolis.

A pure moment, when nobody has escaped to their rooftop for air, and a sense of freedom.

I long for green.

Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here

Photo prompt by Ted Strutz

No, no, no. Oh shit! I’m in trouble!

Today of all days to miss the bus, with a special arrival due. The boss made it plain; there were to be no stuff ups!

“They’ve been through enough, Fred,” he’d said in that deeply melodic voice. “They deserve quick processing; tender loving care. Don’t let me down!”

And, there. Already at the top of the escalator. Nobody to greet them. There’ll be questions; uncertainty. Have they arrived? Is this it? Do they belong?

The unfathomable guilt they carry. They survived. Have they suffered enough?

HE will kill me!

Photo prompt from J Hardy

People say, “we’ll put into storage.”

I ask, “why?”

Items forgotten; unclaimed. Not needed, but not able to let go.

When is enough, enough?

You say, “sentimental value; family heirloom!”

But what is the point of ownership, when kept out of sight?

When you die, it will have stood in storage. Unseen. Unloved.

There only for your heirs. Who gaze at it, with empty minds and hearts.

You have gone but left this.

In their grief, decisions. What to do? Sell; or dump.

Deal with it now. Make a choice.

In your living space, or dead to you now. (99 words)

Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here

NOTE: If you enjoy Random Thoughts by Trish, you may also enjoy my blog Trishs’s Place for Travel.

Prompt by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Gorgeous light feature. Well done, city council.
It is good to see our taxes spent on beautifying the streets.
A quiet night though.

Pity there aren’t more people out to enjoy the installation.
Where is everyone tonight? Late night shopping. A lovely warm evening.
Usually the streets are packed.

My friends should be here though. Said to meet outside the Igis.
Squelch. What was that? I’ve stood on something? Can’t see …
No, hang on! There was a family up ahead. Where …?

Not lights. Some sort of alien creature. Suckers?
NO! NO! Oh no!! This is bad! (98 words)

Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here

NOTE: If you enjoy Random Thoughts by Trish, you may also enjoy my blog Trishs’s Place for Travel.