Friday Fictioneers: It bites

http://jdmitchell-makingascienceficitonmovie.blogspot.com/2013/06/

The sad one:

She played as if she had the devil in her.

She danced across the ivories, her head thrown back and sweat glistening on her brow. She played until her fingers bled, literally.

She played until the audience had quietly filed out of the concert hall. She played until the men came with their white jackets and took her away.

And long after she’d left, the piano kept on playing. It played for years, locked away in the basement. It played until she drew her last breath.

And the devil at the crossroads danced and danced in the moonlight.

The fun one:

Did you know that there’s a piano in the basement?

Yes.

Okay. Um. Why is there a piano locked in the basement?

I put it there.

I didn’t know that you played the piano.

I don’t.

But, you’re… well, you’re a… a musical virtuoso that can play any instrument in the world.

Every instrument in the world but that piano.

But…

Just that piano.

That specific piano?

Yes.

A pause…

Aren’t you going to ask me why?

Alright, why?

It bites.

It, what?

It bites.

Pianos don’t bite.

Try and play it.

A pause…

OW! What the… !@#$! It bloody near took off my fingers!

I told you so.

Then why did you tell me to play it?

It gets hungry.

The photo prompt was:

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Friday Fictioneers: To queue or not to queue

PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda

“Mum. Why are we standing here?”

“Because it is a queue and to queue is the way of our people.”

“But, what is at the end?”

“I don’t know. It’s part of the surprise.”

“What if it’s something gross?”

“What if it isn’t?”

“Can I go and look?”

“No! That is not how this works. One must stand in the queue come rain or snow. One must show patience and stoicism in the face of adversity.”

“I’m going.”

“Mum. It’s a mime. Everyone is standing behind a mime. For no reason whatsoever.’

“That is what it means to be British.”

Friday Fictioneers: Breaking news

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

2 August 2019: Breaking news…

Amy Mannheim, a tourist, has captured the elusive Sasquatch on camera. “I was snapping a picture of the plane coming in to land and didn’t notice until afterwards the figure of a giant, hairy, ape man in the tree line.”

Stories of Big Foot sightings have been on the increase in the area and scores of curious paranormal researchers are descending upon this tiny town.

Are these cryptozoological creatures more than figments of our imagination and part of our folklore?

Is this the proof we’ve been looking for?

Does Sasquatch walk amongst us?

Call in your sighting to 0800 456 1236

Friday Fictioneers: The Fat Controller

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

“Oh bugger!” said the Fat Controller watching as Frank steamed away in the wrong direction, puffing with discontented malaise.  

“Tut tut”, said the mother dragging her son down the platform while he craned around trying to see the smoke coming out of the Fat Controller’s ears.

The Fat Controller glared at her – a glare that spoke volumes.

“Really!” thought the Fat Controller, “I don’t know why I bother trying to reason with bloody stupid, sentient engines. Whoever thought of anthropomorphising trains should be tied down to the railroad tracks and run over. I’m done. I’m going down to the pub.”

100 Word Story: Everyman

Photo credit: Sylva K. Ficová

Car chases, daring deeds, bringing down the bad guy, breaking smuggling rings and outwitting masterminds. That’s what I thought I would be doing.

Instead, I’ve been standing here all night. I’m cold, damp and annoyed. Drops of rain keep dripping down my neck. My fingers have cramped around the camera. My eyes are blurry with exhaustion and the utter banality of waiting around for nothing.

Poor old Bob wasn’t having it on with the cute barista. He just wanted some peace and quiet to smoke a cigar, drink some brandy and eat a toasted cheese without being nagged about it.

Find out more on: http://www.100wordstory.org/photo-prompt/

Friday Fictioneers: Mirror, Mirror

nathan-sowers-dawn-millers-friend_Fotor

“Mirror! Who has the fairest house of all?”

“”As the answer is basically everyone, it’s hard to be specific.” answered the Mirror.

“Oh, come on!” said Happy, “It’s not a bad place.”

“Dream on,” said Grumpy, “It’s a dump. Ever since Snow White traipsed off, the  birds and woodland creatures haven’t been seen.”

With respect,” ventured Doc, “Sneezy’s allergies mean that they can’t stay too long without getting all their feathers blown off.”

“We could ask Dopey…”

“Don’t be stupid Bashful,” spat Grumpy, “The whole place would collapse.”

“Has anyone seen Sleepy?” piped up Dopey,

“He’s been buried alive under the dirty underpants!” replied Doc sadly.

“If I may,” interjected the Mirror, “Might I suggest a match and some gasoline?”

 

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

PHOTO PROMPT © Nathan Sowers grandson of our own Dawn M. Miller

 

#FridayFictioneers: One man’s trash

dadsshoes

Sophie dug the boots out of a dumpster with her bare hands.

She cringed, retched and brandished her prize. They reeked of trash, sweat and dank wet leather. They were worth every rotting banana peel, used nappy and squishy mystery muck.

These were no ordinary boots. They may as well have been Dorothy’s magic red stilettos.

She placed them reverently on the ground, snapped a pic, used a filter and uploaded it to Instagram: #CaptainJackSparrow #Pirate #JohnnyDepp #ForSale.

And she took the Bitcoins, bought a house in Beverly Hills and lived happily ever after.


 

Head over to Rochelle’s blog and try it yourself! 1 Photo prompt. 100 words. And go.

#writephoto: The road less travelled

#writephoto

I took the road less travelled and it was an appallingly bad idea.

There’s a reason the other path is more travelled.

Crows don’t have to slog through snow and hedgerows to get where they want to go. Listening to them cawing “Nevermore” above me in laughter did nothing to improve my mood.

At a certain point in every journey you must commit.

I committed.

Nothing was going to stand in my way. I was in 100%. In gorgeous, hand-stitched suede boots.

I stood under the roof of the trees as they whispered, placing bets on my tenacity. I was not going to let some gossiping leaves get the best of me. No. It was too late.

I stepped forward, sank ankle deep in snow and cursed the Gods. I strode bravely (I thought, but if you were watching you might have confused my movements with drunk on his way home from the pub).

I made it to the shelter of a stunted little oak, which promptly dropped its coat of snow on my head, down my neck to drip in slow torture down my back. Bugger this for a lark. Cold, wet and grumpy, I remained on course.

The last hurdle loomed before me as I made it into the home stretch. The hedge.

The hedge of hell.

The hedge of horror.

The hedge of my downfall.

I fought the hedge and the hedge won.


 

Try out Sue Vincent’s photo prompt for yourself!

#writephoto: Vader and Valkyrie

glaston-ma-day-dianan-117

 

Darth? Vader?

YES.

Mind me asking, I hope you don’t, but WTF?

YODA. IS THAT YOU?

Anyone else who grammar butchers like me know do you?

WHY ARE YOU HERE.

Disturbance in the force, I felt.

Force laughing, I heard.

BUGGER. WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE YOU?

Rock, paper, scissors won I did.

I SHOULD HAVE GUESSED.

 

Smile for Instagram you must.

PLEASE NO.

Trending on Twitter you are too.

HASHTAG PISS OFF.

Make me you can’t.

Happened what did?

DON’T ASK.

Obi Wan on woman problems bet he did.

SERIOUSLY.

Hard Skywalker laughed he did.

I CAN ONLY IMAGINE.

Out yourself get you must.

DON’T BE CUTE.

Oh, out yourself you can’t get?

MY HANDS ARE ENCASED IN STONE.

Ah, Norse God off you pissed then?

MAYBE.

Woman it was then? Obi Wan right is?

GO AWAY.

Oh, Valkyrie it was not?

I HATE YOU.

Advice you need?

NO.

Advice give I will.

PLEASE DON’T.

Stuck you are. Mate for ever Valkyrie do.

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON”T KNOW.

The best luck with women you have not.

YOUR INSIGHTS NEVER CEASE TO AMAZE.

Freedom you want? Apologise you must.

I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING.

Valentine’s Day it is.

SO?

Nothing you did?

NO.

May the force be with you.

DEEP SIGH.

None save you now they can.

Totally screwed you are.

IN THE NAME OF THE FORCE WOULD YOU PLEASE BE GONE.

Go soon I will.

Back with other Jedi come I will.

I CAN HARDLY WAIT.

 

 

Find out more about the Thursday Photo Prompt

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday Fictioneers: Texas Chainsaw Massacre

stumps

Please prune the tree, I asked.

That’s all. Not demolish. Not decapitate. Just trim.

What could go wrong, I thought?

And then, to my deepest regret, I went out.

I arrived home to this scene of wanton devastation.

He had succumbed to the power of the Chain Saw and went all Texas Massacre on the flora.

Finally, exhausted, he laid down the offending weapon and had a beer.

Leaving the dismembered pieces of his slain enemy littered on the ground.

This, I was informed, was entirely my fault because I left him unsupervised with a power tool.

Lesson learned.

 

Note: This story is a work of fiction and in no way resembles my husband at all. Really, he didn’t do this. My father did though, to a Chinese Elm Tree.

 

About Friday Fictioneers

Each Friday, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, posts a photo prompt for a 100-word story.

Have a look at come of this week’s entries for some inspiration.