Jack and Tina’s parents argued constantly about anything and everything. Tina hid in corners and quivered. Jack found different ways to blank the sound and escape to make-believe worlds.
Today he dived amidst corals and schools of neon fish, searching for shipwrecks filled with treasure and pirate bones, so he could buy a peaceful island in the sun and escape there with his sister.
Tomorrow night, when Tina went to her friend’s place for a sleepover, he’d don a tin helmet and ear defenders, lay dynamite under the house, and pretend he was a demolition expert just like his father.
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Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo prompt: image (c) Douglas M. MacIlroy
A world of imagination but a poisoned paradise
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That just about sums it up
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Very ominous, Sarah. 😕
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I just can’t help it, Sylvia. It must be the earlier influence of Stephen King and Roald Dahl upon my writing!
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Dear Sarah,
True story. I believe my parents’ constant quarreling forged my future as a writer. Who knows where Jack might channel his imagination. I wonder how Tina deals with it. Good job.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Yes, imagination can help you escape. That’s why I write. Not that I had that kind of upsetting childhood, but there were other things. Thank you for this.
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I daydreamed for most of my childhood and, to a lesser extent, for quite a bit of my early adulthood. Then one day I decided it was time to capture those daydreams and structure them into novel-writing instead of letting them disappear into the ether! Have never regretted it.
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A very wise decision – and so rewarding too. Good luck wit your continued writing!
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Thanks, Freya 🙂
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Imaginative but thoughtful boy 🙂
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The trouble is with over-imaginative children is that they don’t always see all the perils attached to enacting what’s in their heads, especially if they’ve watched too many things about indestructible superheroes on TV.
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That’s true.
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Poor kids – at least they have each other.
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Hopefully they have each other, provided (as Dale says) he doesn’t get his hands on dynamite for real and blow himself up in the process D:
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Let’s hope he just dreams about blowing up the place and doesn’t actually do it… he could end up blowing himself up instead!
Well done, Madame!
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Thanks, Dale. …I agree, children and dynamite are not a good mix D:
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I hope that dreams do come true on the diving part rather than the demolition part.
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Quite. Boys and dynamite are not a good combination.
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That’s imagination for you. We never know what our children are thinking, do we? I know my parents never did, and would have been horrified if they’d known what I thought about their relationship, and how scarring my experiences were.
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I learned early not to have a diary and leave it unlocked. The less said about that experience, the better! Poor you, Sandra. It’s so hard to trust anybody once you’re scarred, and there’s this constant pull to look back over your shoulder at the past and keep re-examining it — a sort of polluted black cloud that keeps following you and refuses to disperse.
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Uh oh!
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🙂
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Whoops. That is going to be hard to explain. I’m curious whether he is just pretending to be like his Dad or if he understands what will happen.
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Ah, that would be telling! I will continue to leave everybody guessing.
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Love the response to the picture Sarah, it really looks exactly as you describe! And that cheeky little hint of what might happen at the end….
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Thank you, Andrea 🙂 Hints are so much more fun than cut and dried endings in short stories. I think that it doesn’t work so well in novels, unless there’s a sequel, as it can leave readers frustrated after they’ve invested so much time in the book.
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