Category Archives: Friday Fictioneers 100 Words

Friday Fictioneers – Hoodoo Hex

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Small stuffed toy, bald yellow head, red jacket and blue pants, sits on an office chair. There is a blanket on the back of the chair. And an indoor plant and view of the garden.

Photo Prompt by Ted Strutz

What I remember.

Working on the P&Ls for local businesswoman, Madame Hoodoo.

Bitching and moaning about her messy recordkeeping.

Like I do. Every month.

Messaging back and forth.

Where should I code ‘eye of newt’?

How many copies of ‘Satanic Weekly’ does one person need?

Things along that line.

Seconds ago, I texted in large angry type.

WTF is a Sriramachakra?

What I Now Know.

Perspective has changed.

I’ve only a muffled sense of body.

Though I’m sure it’s his playful expression.

The usually charming smile of my Doberman is closer to carnivorous.

As he eyeballs his newest chew toy. [98 words]

Thank you  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for the challenge, which is to write a complete story in 100 words or less. 

For more 100 word fiction, read here.

In case you’re interested to know about Sriramachakra:

It is also called Sri Rama Chakra, Ramachakra, Rama Chakra, or Ramar Chakra and is a mystic diagram or a yantra given in Tamil almanacs as an instrument of astrology for predicting one’s future. 

Friday Fictioneers – Escape

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A big screen TV with an image of a rusty old car, being raised with straps.

Photo Prompt: Fleur Lind

It caught my eye the moment I entered.

Its segments called to me.

My sister moaned about life’s disappointments.

Her husband’s failings.

Her monster children.

Made coffee without asking what I wanted.

Assumed it was always the same.

Milk, 2 sugars, too white, too sweet.

I barely listened. Grunted in the right places

‘I made banana bread, with walnuts,’ she said.

She’d forgotten I’m allergic.

‘Everybody loves my baking. I should open a café.’

It was all just noise.

I reached out to the TV. Opened the door.

Walked through, and closed it quietly behind me. [96 words]

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields continues to set the challenge in 2024, encouraging a community of writers to write Flash Fiction of 100 words or fewer. To read other stories, visit here.

Friday Fictioneers – It’s Only Words

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A row of guitars hanging in a shop, rainbow striped guitar at the front

Photo prompt by Jennifer Pendergast

She’ll anthropomorphise us into a story.

Someone is going to anesthetise us? Who, and why?

It’s what she does, that lady writer, her with the notebook. Gives human characteristics to animals and writes funny stories about them.

Oh, you mean she’s gonna personify us? Cos, we’re not animals.

Who died and made you Professor? She’ll reanimate us in some weak story for laughs, that’s racism, that is.

Racism. Huh. You’re off the shelf!

Go, Professor Nerd! Ten bucks, she’ll attribute me as a Zebra.

Zoomorphism! Your strings are too tight.

Twang! If I had hands, I’d …

The year is 2023 and Rochelle Wisoff-Fields continues to set the challenge and encourage this community of writers. An effort appreciate by us all. The challenge is to write a story in 100 words or fewer.

For other 100 word fiction, read here.

Friday Fictioneers – Door Porn

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Suburban street showing doors and steps

Photo prompt by Dale Rogerson

What is it about doors?

Everywhere I go, their beauty, the architecture attracts my eye.

I know, I’m not the only one.

The fun, the flair, the je ne sais quoi!

Behind these gateways, the hopes, dreams and dramas in play.

There is an element of sticky-beakedness.

An innocent curiosity.

Doors call, ‘look at me!’ We do and begin to ponder.

What joy lays within. What secrets.

Old doors, new doors, admired for their artistry.

And the work of their creators.

Beautiful distractions from dreariness.

Reasons to stop and live in the moment. [93 words]

For Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. A photo prompt challenge to create a story using 100 words or fewer.

Read other stories for this week’s prompt here.

Some doors from my recent travels 😊

Cork, 2023
Copenhagen, Denmark
Copenhagen, Denmark
Bergen, Norway
Stavanger, Norway
Oslo, Norway
One of the many, Santorini scenic doorways

Friday Fictioneers – be my guest

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roger-b

Photo prompt by Roger Bultot

And there I lay

Traffic passes, while each breath I take cuts like broken glass.

The hours drag

As neighbours dine, as bathers to bed, and lovers etwine.

A heartbeat slows

As colleagues wonder, ‘where was our friend’? Absently asked.

And there I lay

As coppers knock, corpse decays, soul in shock.

A lonely death, but soul set free

No longer yearning, sadness.

And there I lay. [67 words]

For Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. A photo prompt challenge to create a story using 100 words or fewer.

Read other stories for this week’s prompt here.

Friday Fictioneers – To Dream is To Write

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A wooden bench, resting on concrete, with water and city views behind. A heart drawn on the back of the bench.

Photo Prompt by Roger Bultot

I haven’t written for many months

Heart heavier, notebooks abandoned.

I pass this bench every day

View attractive, bench unappealing.

I suss it out, this grotty chair

Old mould, new stains, suspicious mess.

I spy the view behind this seat

That turbulent, lustful, aquatic feast.

I wonder why when planning took place

Developers chose to opposite face.

For those who observe the passing world

Or need a corner within to pause?

For those who need a moment to rest

Want more than a diversion?

Waits for romantics, and scribers of schemes

Resting idle, deserted, ’till a writer dreams.

The year is 2023 and Rochelle Wisoff-Fields continues to set the challenge and encourage this community of writers. An effort appreciate by us all. The challenge is to write a story in 100 words or fewer.

For other 100 word fiction, read here.

Friday Fictioneers – Before

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dales-field

A blazing flash of light and I thought; I’ve been here before!

It was an important day; for my husband. A record 56-game hitting streak. It looked different then.

I was wearing a dress made famous by a film clip, over a subway tunnel.

Stunning white material, over long pale legs, blowing around me!

He cried hard at my funeral. They all did, my mother, the crowds. I can remember it, like it was yesterday.

He wasn’t there. The politician.

Funeral? Husbands? The memory is clear as glass. But it doesn’t make sense.

I’m only a boy, aged 10. This is my local playground.

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.