Tag: #FridayFictioneers

Posted in Flash Fiction

Time is a Wheel

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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“Harry, please don’t play underneath the house. It’s dangerous,” said Harry’s mother when she found her nine-year old son leaning on the old wheel under the house.

“But, Mom, said Harry, “I have to see what the wheel says.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry’s mom is distracted because she is studying for her final exam in her graduate program.

“Mom, that’s the Wheel of Time. It spins it in one direction and shows scenes from the past. The other, scenes of the future.” Harry’s mother thought he was playing make-believe.

Then she heard the wheel turn – by itself.

99 words

Photo Credit: Sandra Crook

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction

The Runaway

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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She sat huddled in a booth in the back of the diner. Clutching her backpack against her chest. That man had tried to sit down beside her. She’d told him she was only 15 years old. He finally left. Jeff, her boyfriend, would be here in a minute. Why make her come here, alone? He was late. He knew she’d walked miles from home to meet him here.

They were going to run away. Their parents wouldn’t let them be together. Jeff said he’d take care of the money.

He appeared beside her.

“Come on,” Jeff said. “I’m taking you home.”

 

100 words

#amwriting #amblogging #writing #flashfiction #fiction

This post part of Friday Fictioneers

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction

The Veteran and Christmas Spirit

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

 

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The old guy sitting in the diner was a Vietnam vet. He didn’t know what to do. His last buddy, also his roommate, died today. That meant his home was gone too.

He had been there for hours. The manager had noticed him. She walked over and asked if he needed anything.

“A place to stay. My friends are gone.”

She got him to tell his story. She saw their Christmas tree and asked him if he would like to stay in their back room.

“I’m a good cook,” he exclaimed, as his whole face lit up with a smile.

 

100 words

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This post is in response to Friday Fictioneers

Photo credit to Roger Bultot

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction, Horses

Wildfire and Rose

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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“It’s going to be 19 degrees F. tonight and not more than 21 degrees tomorrow. We have to get the horses in,” Skip said.

“Especially Wildfire,” I replied. “His coat seems thin this year. He’s not out there with the other horses. I’m going to take Thunder and go to the back pastures to find him.”

“You can’t,” said Skip. “It’s so slick out there. What if Thunder slips?”

An hour later, Rose hadn’t returned. She would search for her beloved Wildfire until she found him. Suddenly, they heard a whinny. Wildfire was covered in snow by the door. So was Rose!

Photo credit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

100 words

#amblogging #amwriting #writing #flashfiction #fiction

Post in response to #FridayFictioneers Challenge

Thanks, Rochelle!

 

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction, romance

Desolation

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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They unpacked their luggage in the room on the top floor of the old house. The view was magnificent as they looked out onto the flats. Magnificent but disturbing somehow.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

She thought about it and looked at his face. A face that she was just now seeing for the first time in so many years.

“Why did you bring me here,” she asked, “to this desolate place?”

“I need to be with my girl.”

“Let’s relax and enjoy the view. Just be together,” she replied.

He smiled. He didn’t smile much anymore.

 

98 words

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*This post in response to Friday Fictioneers

Photo Credit to Lucy Fridkin

Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing

Hard Work

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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“Mom, I’m embarrassed,” the boy said.

His mom was working around in their tent, trying to straighten the bed clothes from the night before and get the boy dressed for school.

“It’s my turn to have the boys over for a campfire, but they don’t know where we live. That we live in a tent.”

“Son,” his mom said. “You have to tell them I can’t find work.”

“I’ll try, Mom,” the boy said. “Some of their parents are out of work too and they are worried. Maybe they’ll understand.”

“They will, Son.”

“I love you, Mom.”

97 words

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Photo credit Jan Wayne Fields

*This post sponsored by Friday Fictioneers

Thanks, Rochelle!

Posted in Fiction

Buried Treasure

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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Raven asked her mother, “But, Mother, that’s part of our guest house. Why can’t we open the door?”

Her mother shivered, feeling that Raven was old enough to know the truth. So she told Raven about the old dwarf that lived behind the blue door and guarded the buried treasure left by her father.

Raven’s mother told her that the buried treasure was given to the dwarves and fairies living near them because Raven’s father had tried to trap the small creatures to sell them to the traveling circus.

Raven stared at her and collapsed at her feet.

(98 words)

Sponsored by Friday Fictioneers

Photo by CEayr

Posted in Fiction

The Musician and the Maestro

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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This was her first concert in several years. Long ago, she had lost her will to play. She played a number of instruments. Cello, harp, piano, violin. Tonight, a small group was here to listen to her play cello. She was playing The Swan by Saint-Saens. She had not played it in concert since the last time she had been with him.

That was long ago. It was all behind her. She seldom thought of him anymore. That’s why she could play again.

They were all filing in now. Wait! Who just walked through the door?

*Post sponsored by Friday Fictioneers.

Thanks, Rochelle!

 

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Posted in Flash Fiction, Writing

My Love

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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“How could anyone ever tire of France, Patrick?” Rebecca asked as she looked out the window at the beautiful tiled roof just outside.

“I don’t know, Sweetie. I always wanted to come back to Paris with you,” Patrick said.

“This may be the last time, Patrick.”

“I know,” he said, as he reached into his luggage and handed her a beautiful Hermes scarf. Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat and she looked at Patrick. “What have you done?”

“I’m giving you something to remember me by. You are my love.” #amwriting #amblogging #writing #FridayFictioneers

*Sponsored by Friday Fictioneers

Thanks, Rochelle!

 

Posted in Flash Fiction

The Old Tradng Post

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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Susan needed to get away from Amarillo and Derek just for a few days. Another big fight about children and her career. She started driving, when Derek was at work, on old Route 66 toward a remote spot. She could clear her head there. Tucumcan, New Mexico was remote and had a cool motel and trading post.

After arriving, Susan went into the Tucumcari Trading Post to pick up supplies. It looked dilapidated and closed but it was open. She heard the door open after her. There stood Derek, with a tire iron in his hand. #amwriting #amblogging #writing

*Photo courtesy of Jean-L-Hays

**This post is part of Friday Fictioneers