Listen, I want my money back. Yeah, I understand. Sure, the flight was fine. And, yes, the hotel is great, just like the Best Western at home. Just like it. See, that’s the problem. I wanted mystery. You know, exotic. Dragons, maybe. Guys in robes with long beards, and warriors fighting in the sky. But instead, we get to shop. Shop for chrissakes? These people are supposed to be raving commies. Tomorrow we’re going to the Great Wall. I’m betting it’s a mall. This isn’t the adventure I bought.

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

They cut my damn house in half. Sure, I tried to stop them. But you don’t argue with a buzz-saw big as a … well, big as a house. Surprised? You bet. When she said we should split everything down the middle, I hadn’t realised she meant it literally. The dog made a hell of a mess. Divorce is always untidy. I phoned the kids and told them to run, quick.

Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. This one’s in memoriam for the departed Ceayr. You can find other stories here

Oh, wow! This is so great. It’s just like a disaster movie. Please stop crying. Everything’s okay. I’ve seen this one and I know what’s going to happen. Listen! Listen to me, will you? We have to hike out of here. Giant ‘gators are going to attack us, or maybe pterodactyls’ll swoop out of the sky, it’s hard to be sure so early in. You’ll get buried in a snowdrift or fall down a chasm, but that’s not a problem because I’ll rescue you. And so, you’ll fall in love with me and we will prevail. How cool is that?

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

In all the vastness of the universe, we are alone. Three millennia of searching and not a sausage, not even microbes. Theory says life should be common. So, why? Why does no-one answer us?

The solution, I think, lies in dark matter. This, too, we sought for thousands of years without explanation. Two mysteries? Or, maybe, one?

The only remaining possibility is that dark matter is the gravitational effect of adjacent universes. 

Yesterday, we finished the test—collided two galaxies together, then four, then eight. If there’s anyone in the universe next door, maybe they’ll hear our message and tap back on the wall. The reply should be “sixteen”.

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

M’lud, it went like this. The cascading water turned the wheel. The wheel cranked the rope. I steadied the rope, which raised the barrel of bricks.

Unfortunately, the water ran out. The barrel was now heavier than I. It started down, jerking me off my feet.

Halfway up, I met the falling barrel, receiving a severe blow on the shoulder. When it hit the ground, the bottom burst, releasing the bricks.

I was now heavier than the barrel. I started downwards. The barrel was coming up, so I swung through the window like an action hero. Mrs Cuthbertson was very surprised. So too the man who wasn’t Mr Cuthbertson.

.

With admiration for Gerard Hoffnung. 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.

Look, I can’t even read those signs. How am I supposed to know whether this is a taxidermist or a tailor? Is that even a proper language? And there’s nobody in the alley, no cues. A murder’s possible, of course, but CE will have that sewn-up. 

So, what the actual…. I’m trying my best, honest. Maybe a philosophical rumination on signifier and signified? Well, bugger that.

I just want a table, a nice table beside the river. Watch the world go by, have an absinthe, make eyes at the girl on the next table. That’s all I ask. You couldn’t even give me a river?

.

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

The past occupies my present. I make tea, bake biscuits, cut the grass. The change is too vast to comprehend.

I take the garbage out, go to the shops, do the laundry. The machine runs out of control and the engineers panic. Old gods shake their shaggy heads and snuffle in the underbrush.

When it’s all over, when today has become yesterday: maybe, then, we’ll be able to tell what it meant.

.

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

Writer in lockdown

Cries and moans punctured the sky, a flight of bats escaping into the night. The church bells tolled and tolled ceaselessly for the dead. The scent of rosemary burning in the chafing dish irked Will’s nostrils, but at least it kept the stench of rotting corpses at bay. Mayhaps, Mistress Tomkins next door had succumbed, along with her babes, boarded as they were into their quarantine house.

And yet, the closure of the theatres gave Will time to write. His quill poised over the page. “A plague on both your houses,” he wrote. Aye, it had a ring to it.

.

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

The fan was adoring, half bending from the waist in a stiff posture that must have been uncomfortable. Probably, he wasn’t aware of anything but being in the presence of the Master.

“I don’t know how you do it,” he babbled, “thinking of these ideas for your books.”

On a whim, I decided to tell him the truth. He’d never believe me, anyway.

“Life. I encode a simple story into a bacterial genome. Let it evolve randomly over millions of generations. Read out the results. An AI selects the most surprising viable outcomes.”

The fan tittered.

.

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