Friday Fictioneers — Blank


“You’ve no idea what mortal sin we committed, have you?”

Who’s that stranger shouting in my ear?

“I’m your husband, John, for God’s sake. How dare you leave me to shoulder all the guilt.”

Why can’t that horrid man go away?    

“I’ll see you in purgatory.”

Is he the priest? I don’t know him. Think only of the past, as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”

“What, the hell?”

“Elizabeth … in ‘Pride and Prejudice’. Mama likes to read to me. …My Harry, as handsome as Mr Darcy. I married him yesterday, you know.”

“He’s been dead forty years. We buried him.”


Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo prompt: copyright © Dale Rogerson

Author: Sarah Potter Writes

Sarah is a British eccentric who writes offbeat fiction, haiku and tanka poetry. When stuck for words, she sketches or paints instead. She's into nature conservation, sustainability, gardening, dogs, natural health, and reading. Her sociability is something that happens in short bursts with long breathing spaces in between.

22 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers — Blank”

    1. Dear Rochelle,
      I think it’s more tragedy than humour, but if you don’t laugh occasionally, I guess you’ll cry instead D: I often think of Iris Murdoch and Terry Pratchett, both brilliant writers, so cruelly struck down and literally lost for words in the end. The thought of that happening to me, or someone I love, really scares me. I hate it when I get scatty and forgetful…
      All best wishes,


    1. It’s scary, isn’t it, Andrea? I’ve watched it happen to several people recently. The older I get, the more it disturbs me. I guess we all fear a drawn out death where the brain dies ahead of the rest of our body. It seems more common than it once was, probably because we live longer.

      Liked by 1 person

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