Friday Fictioneers – Page 3 – Sarah Potter Writes

Friday Fictioneers — If Flowers Could Talk

Genre: Quirky fiction
Word count:100

IF FLOWERS COULD TALK

“Happiness is living outdoors, enjoying the sun and rain.”

“How about the wind ripping off your petals, too?”

“Who’s a sarky, short-ass bunch?”

“So would you be, if someone had cut you down to quarter size and jammed you in a vase.”

“We assure you it’s just as painful for us.”

“At least you can see out the window.”

“Your water stinks.”

“Ditto.”

“Let’s have a competition to see who wilts last.”

“They’d better give us dignified disposals.”

“Hell, we don’t want cremation by bonfire.”

“Better than rotting slowly amid stinky refuse.”

“The compost heap, that’s the way to go.”

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Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo Prompt: image copyright (c) Dale Rogerson

Friday Fictioneers — Delinquents, 1969

Genre: Historical
Word Count: 100

DELINQUENTS, 1969

The bus station waiting room was the in-place to hang out on Saturday afternoons, according to Anita. Two years my senior and a cross-between Raquel Welch and a rouged porcelain doll, she was the epitome of cool.

Then there was me; her shadow, stepped into a stranger’s skin for a joyride to another planet where the inhabitants communicated in unintelligible grunts and monosyllables.

Ex-borstal boys with No.2 haircuts, braces and bovver boots, roamed this planet pumped up with testosterone, looking to pick an effing fight with some poor geezer or rob the payphone for loose change.

Sensible folk queued outside.

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Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo Prompt: image copyright © J Hardy Carroll

Friday Fictioneers: Out-Twitted

Genre: Quirky fiction
Word Count: 100

OUT-TWITTED

“Madam, I’m not trying to nick your trinkets!” squawked the indignant magpie.

Lady Annabel prided herself on speaking bird language. “Then why do you keep pecking at my window?”

“I’m addicted to putty.”

“That proves it. You intend to remove my windows, with thievery in mind.”

“Magpies’ love of shiny things is mere folklore. Ask your neighbour, the Professor. He’s done a study on it.”

“He’s nuts, like all academics.”

“If you believe in folklore, I must warn you I’m alone and mourning for my mate. So you’d best avert your eyes from me, or I’ll curse you with sorrow.”

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Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo Prompt: image copyright (c) Janet Webb

Friday Fictioneers — Art Installation, AD 2316

Genre: Post-apocalyptic science fiction
Word Count: 100

ART INSTALLATION, AD 2316

Welcome to the tri-centenary celebration of life on Old Earth.

Item 1: Wooden desk, whitened with paint to disguise the murder of a tree.

Item 2: Plastic writing implements to poison the oceans and scribble out fish.

Item 3: Metal paperclips to imprison tree-paper.

Item 4: Sticky substance to glue tree-paper to tree-paper.

Item 5: Two soft toys…

“Mother, what are they?”

“They’re birds called penguins. They used to inhabit the South Pole of Old Earth before it boiled.”

“Are those two the only ones we rescued?”

“No, my child, there were real living penguins…”

“Without deflector shields, you mean?”

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Friday Fictioneers — Rewind

Genre: Mainstream fiction
Word count: 100

REWIND

“Over & out” (your last text message).

No, I didn’t mean it. Come back…

My fingers type panicked nonsense.

Text not sent. The word “not” blanks me, as an opaque oblivion wedged between two possibilities.

This is the story of my life, its path strewn with the litter of my impetuosity.

“Love u xxxx” (your first text message).

No, you can’t mean it. Moi?

My fingers type lovey-dovey nonsense in ecstatic knots, rendered more rubbishy through my somersaulting heart.

Text sent. “Am counting the minutes” you reply. The possibilities are endless, but I know this relationship will end in disaster…

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