Friday Fictioneers: Too Many Legs

PHOTO PROMPT -Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“Excuse me, has anyone seen my mouse?” Damn, that’s not working.

“Help, there’s a tiger on the loose!” Unbelievable. Still no response. You’re all dead from the neck up.

“Fire! Fire!” Well, that’s flaming useless. My lighter’s not working.

“Does that bag belong to anyone?” Excellent, they’re getting twitchy.

“Make way for the bomb disposal unit.” OMG, I hate crowds.

Phew, they’ve gone. Now I can tell my behaviour therapist I made it through the shopping-centre without panicking.

“Oh, no. Help! Somebody, please. Take it away.”

(shaking my fist at the sky)  “What manner of twisted deity creates spiders?”

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Friday Fictioneers: 100 words stories
Photo Prompt: image (c)Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Friday Fictioneers: Crusher

PHOTO PROMPT - Copyright - Jean L. Hays

“You are a naughty, broken car and I’m going to tip you in the rubbish.”

“Ben, for heaven’s sake stop chucking things at the bin. You’re giving me a headache.”

“Come on, digger-crane-Cadillac, let’s scoop this old rust-bucket into the crusher. Wham-bang, wham-bang.”

“Lunch is ready.”

“Oh, but Mu-u-u-um, I’m playing with my cars.”

“Your soup will get cold.”

“In a minute. I’m just–“

“It’s petrol soup with tyre crôutons, followed by car-wax pudding.”

“Yummy stuff. Broom, broom, br-oo-oo-m. On my way up the motorway. Overtaking a police car–“

Skid. Crash. Silence.

Boy-racer in head-on collision with wall. Dial Emergency Services.

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Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo prompt image (c) Jean L. Hays

Friday Fictioneers: A Tale for Halloween

three_chairs

Come nightfall, I’ll slip into one of those three chairs.

At first, people will think I’m a pretend vampire, outdoors enjoying Halloween. Then some youth dressed as a ghost will say, ‘Hey, cool outfit.’

And his lithe girlfriend, kitted out like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, will compliment me further. ‘Spooky makeup and classy fangs.’

These hot-blooded revellers will fit the two empty coffins back at my crypt to perfection.

Would you care to join me?’

In life, I was a gambler; so too, am I in death. The street light. The window. Will they notice too late that I’ve no reflection?

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Photo Prompt: Melanie Greenwood
Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories

Friday Fictioneers: Cooked

PHOTO PROMPT Copyright- The Reclining Gentleman

When the grey first came, people said, “Not to worry. It will pass.” But the greenhouse gases built up, temperate climates hit 43˚C midwinter, and the sea-levels rose, gobbling up all the coastal resorts.

Those people who survived, congregated on high ground and walked around naked, gasping and wheezing.

It had all started with microscopic weather manipulation devices placed inside the lids of waste-disposal bins around the world: so much more effective than pumping silver oxide into the atmosphere from above. The aliens were time-travellers, which meant they could wipe us out and colonise our planet in under five minutes.

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Photo Prompt: The Reclining Gentleman
Friday Fictioneers — 100-word stories

Friday Fictioneers: Two Voices, One Head

How many more times must I tell you? I’m a reincarnation of Michelangelo, so stop pumping Risperdal into me and interrupting a genius at work. I intend to hatch a nautilus out of my living stone display. Yes, I said “living”. Of course, stones are alive. What are you blathering on about? They’re not inanimate, you idiot. Just give me space to communicate with them, otherwise they’ll keep giving birth to snail shells instead of a creature of divine proportions. What? You say I’m mistaken about the nautilus: the golden ratio is formed from a rectangle? Now who’s gone bonkers?

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Photo Prompt: courtesy of Douglas McIlroy
Friday Fictioneers — 100 word stories

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