Friday Fiction: Nag Nag Nag

________________________________________________________________________________________________

copyright -Managua Gunn
copyright -Managua Gunn

Nag Nag Nag

Helga was dying for a piss. With hours remaining before her shift ended, she desperately tried to appease her nagging bladder.

‘I told you not to have that second cup of tea,’ it said.

Helga sighed, ‘Thanks, Bladder, but that’s not helpful.’

‘Just saying,’ said Bladder. ‘If you’d listened to me in the first place…’

‘Are you sure you’re in the right line of work?’ Helga asked. ‘Only maybe you’d be better suited to working ‘next door’… because you’re being a right arse!’

That shut Bladder up.

Helga relished the silence.

‘How long till dinner?’ grumbled Stomach. ‘I’m bloody starving!’

(100 words)

________________________________________________________________________________________________

For those who don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a 100 word story from a picture prompt. It’s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and anyone can play. Thanks for hosting, Rochelle! Check out the link below to see what other fictioneers did with this week’s prompt.

This week’s photo is courtesy of Managua Gunn.

Need more Friday Fiction? Click the blue frog to read more stories from other fictioneers!


Friday Fiction: Together In Perfect Harmony

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Copyright -John Nixon
Copyright -John Nixon

Together In Perfect Harmony

Margot was one of those irritating people who think they know what you’re going to say before you say it. So when her son, Harold, said he had an important announcement, she already had all the answers.

‘The thing is, Mother, I’ve -,’

‘-met someone! Oh clever you!’

‘Well, yes, but it’s not that straightforward. I’m -,’

‘-gay? Wonderful! Miranda will be positively green with envy!’

‘No, Mother, not gay. I’m in love with my piano -,’

‘-teacher?’

‘No, my piano. We’re seeing each … Mother?.’

Margot swooned.

Harold caressed his beloved’s ivories, ‘Best not mention the baby yet, sweetheart.’

(100 words)

________________________________________________________________________________________________

For those who don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a 100 word story from a picture prompt. It’s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and anyone can play. Thanks for hosting, Rochelle! Check out the link below to see what other fictioneers did with this week’s prompt.

This week’s photo is courtesy of John Nixon. Pop over to his place for fabulous drawings and stories.

Need more Friday Fiction? Click the blue frog to read more stories from other fictioneers!


Friday Fiction: On Being Unique

________________________________________________________________________________________________

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Copyright – me!

On Being Unique

In the jungle, where Brian was born, you were either one thing or another. Only Brian clearly wasn’t. Brian was different, and he hated it. Others avoided him, or worse, hissed ‘Abomination!’ as he passed by.

Depressed and slightly unstable, Brian changed his name to The Majestic Zelnorkk and proclaimed himself the new Messiah. In the jungle, they shunned him with renewed vigour, but on the internet he found fame and notoriety. He started a band and released a charity single which spent eleven weeks at number one.

He died, a tax exile in Monaco, old, happy and resolutely different.

(100 words)

________________________________________________________________________________________________

For those who don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a 100 word story from a picture prompt. It’s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and anyone can play. Thanks for hosting, Rochelle! Check out the link below to see what other fictioneers did with this week’s prompt.

This week’s photo is courtesy of me! Meet Gireletizelion (or Girellie for short). He’s about 3ft tall and my junk-loving hubby spotted him in a charity shop and bought him for a fiver. He sits at the top of the stairs in our house and makes me smile every time I see him.

You’d think I’d have a story prepared for my own photo, but I’m not that bright. I found this week really hard. Can’t wait to see what everyone else has done with this prompt.

Need more Friday Fiction? Click the blue frog to read more stories from other fictioneers!


Friday Fiction: Arabella’s Secret

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Copyright - Janet Webb
Copyright – Janet Webb

Arabella’s Secret

Alone in the flat, Arabella sits at the mirror. Mother will be here soon.

The makeup-remover does its job, revealing clean pale skin beneath the layers of paint. A quick sweep through the room: makeup in the drawer, heels under the bed. But what to do with the dress?

A moment of inspiration sees the dress launched onto the fire escape. It flaps daintily in the breeze. Just in time. The doorbell rings.

Mother arrives with kisses, both cheeks. ‘Geoffrey darling,’ she says. ‘Where were you?  Where do you go on a Saturday night?’

Geoffrey kisses his mother. Both cheeks.

(100 words)

________________________________________________________________________________________________

For those who don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a 100 word story from a picture prompt. It’s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and anyone can play. Thanks for hosting, Rochelle! Check out the link below to see what other fictioneers did with this week’s prompt.

This week’s photo is courtesy of Janet Webb at This, That and the Other Thing.

I’m just back from a few days hiding in the woods in Devon in a refreshingly technology-free zone. I didn’t get a chance to read any stories last week but will try to make up for it this week. 🙂

Need more Friday Fiction? Click the blue frog to read more stories from other fictioneers!


Friday Fiction: The Boy On The Bicycle

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Copyright - Danny Bowman
Copyright – Danny Bowman

The Boy On The Bicycle

His mother drummed it into him from an early age, waggling her finger to drive the point home:

–          If you get lost, you call me. Doesn’t matter where you are, I’ll find you.

And now he was lost. Very lost. And he wanted his mummy. But most of the callboxes were too high for someone of his stature. He wasted hours leaping in futile attempts to knock the handset off the cradle, while passersby jeered and called him fugly.

The truth was, if that boy on the bicycle hadn’t shown up, ET would never have managed to phone home.

(100 words)

________________________________________________________________________________________________

For those who don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a 100 word story from a picture prompt. It’s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and anyone can play. Thanks for hosting, Rochelle! Check out the link below to see what other fictioneers did with this week’s prompt.

This week’s photo is courtesy of Danny Bowman

I’m away for a few days in an internet-free (and hopefully stress-free) environment, so won’t be able to reply to comments until I return, but please don’t let that stop you from telling me what you think. I love constructive criticism. In fact, I love all comments!

Did you see it coming? Comment ‘You lose, EL!’ in the comments box below 😀

Need more Friday Fiction? Click the blue frog to read more stories from other fictioneers!


Friday Fiction: “Good Morning. Have You Used Pear’s Soap?”

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Aqueduct -Sarah Ann Hall
Copyright Sarah Ann Hall

“Good Morning. Have You Used Pear’s Soap?”

Arnold had seen The Fly enough times to recognise the teleportation portals when he saw them. He’d never understood, watching the film, why nobody had tried experimenting with the molecule-melding properties of the technology…

Grandpa’s aversion to baths was legendary. Arnold ushered him into Portal One and handed him a bar of Pear’s. When Grandpa emerged from Portal Two, he certainly smelled better, having merged seamlessly with the soap.

If only Arnold had spotted the sneaky frog that had hopped inside Portal One as the door closed.

Grandpa’s tongue whipped out, snapping up a passing grasshopper.

‘Ribbett,’ he said, fragrantly.

(100 words)

________________________________________________________________________________________________

For those who don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a 100 word story from a picture prompt. It’s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and anyone can play. Thanks for hosting, Rochelle! Check out the link below to see what other fictioneers did with this week’s prompt.

This week’s photo is courtesy of Sarah Ann Hall

Need more Friday Fiction? Click the blue frog to read more stories from other fictioneers!


Friday Fiction: As Soon As This Pub Closes

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Copyright-Ted Strutz
Copyright-Ted Strutz

As Soon As This Pub Closes

“You’re a writer? Well, you’re in good company. (Gerry, a pint for my friend!) Take that seat next to Freddy-the-Fish. Fred’s planning a memoir about his life at sea. (How’s the book going, Fred? … Bah, plenty of time, mate.) And here’s Bullshit Bill, he could make a fortune from his tall tales. (Where you goin’, Bill? I’m only kiddin’!) … Me? Kind of you to ask. Got me novel all planned out … On paper? No, it’s all up here, in me noggin. Soon as I get home, I’m gonna make a start. Just one more pint before I go. Same again?”

(100 words)

________________________________________________________________________________________________

For those who don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a 100 word story from a picture prompt. It’s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and anyone can play. Thanks for hosting, Rochelle! Check out the link below to see what other fictioneers did with this week’s prompt.

This week’s photo is courtesy of Ted Strutz.

Need more Friday Fiction? Click the blue frog to read more stories from other fictioneers!


Like the title? I stole it from Alex Glasgow’s song (worth listening right to the very end).

Friday Fiction: A Shot In The Park

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Copyright -KentBonham
Copyright -KentBonham

A Shot In The Park

“Hello?”

“I’m in position in the garden. Security was non-existent.”

“Excellent. Can you see the house?”

“Sssshhh! Yes.”

“And you’ve got a clear shot?”

“Not so loud!”

“Nobody can hear me, you idiot, we’re on the phone.”

“Right. Sorry. Bit nervous.”

“Yeah, forgot it’s your first time.”

“There’s movement on the balcony. Shit!”

“Can they see you?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Now’s your chance. Remember what we practised? Keep calm, take aim…”

“My hands are shaking.”

“…focus…”

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“For God’s sake, Kent, get a grip! It’s a flipping photo. Point. Click. Send to Rochelle. Easy!”

.
(100 words)

________________________________________________________________________________________________

For those who don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a 100 word story from a picture prompt. It’s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and anyone can play. Thanks for hosting, Rochelle! Check out the link below to see what other fictioneers did with this week’s prompt.

This week’s photo is courtesy of Kent Bonham. Sorry, Kent, hope you can forgive my silly story 🙂

Need more Friday Fiction? Click the blue frog to read more stories from other fictioneers!


Friday Fiction: The Importance of Being Bob

For those who don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a 100 word story from a picture prompt. It’s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and anyone can play. Thanks for hosting, Rochelle! Check out the link at the end of my story to see what other fictioneers did with this week’s prompt.

Some of you non-fictioneers may have noticed that the Friday in Friday Fictioneers doesn’t appear to relate to the real Friday (you know, the one that normally follows Thursday), that’s because in Fridayfictionland Friday lasts from Wednesday morning all the way through to about Saturday lunchtime. Which is great because that means it’s always almost the weekend!

My story follows the picture prompt below, kindly provided by Claire Fuller. The steps made me think of those library step chairs – the ones which turn from a chair into steps.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Copyright-Claire Fulller
Copyright-Claire Fuller

The Importance Of Being Bob

We all wondered how Bob could be so happy so much of the time. We discussed it in groups, in pairs, and even with our wives.

‘It’s no mystery,’ Bob said, beaming. ‘I’m happy because I take pleasure in the simple things. Like this library chair, for instance. Flip the back down and it turns… into steps!’

Bob laughed and clapped his hands.

‘Chair… Steps!’ Bob laughed and clapped again. ‘Chair… Steps!’ Laugh. Clap.

We backed away, slowly, exchanging looks, ridiculing him. But secretly, deep down, each and every one of us wished we were a little more like Bob.

(100 words)

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Never considered writing in first person plural? This story is inspired by Then We Came To The End by Joshua Ferris- a novel written from the perspective of the collective – well worth a read.

Wish you were a bit more like Bob? Play Bob’s favourite game: Don’t Shoot The Puppy.

Need more Friday Fiction? Click the blue frog to read more stories from other fictioneers!


Friday Fiction: In Which Tarquin Toffsworth Comes To A Sticky End

For those who don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a 100 word story from a picture prompt. It’s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and anyone can play. Thanks for hosting, Rochelle! Check out the link at the end of my story to see what other fictioneers did with this week’s prompt.

The hardest thing about this week’s challenge was deciding whether to write “wasp nest”, “wasp’s nest” (as in The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet’s Nest) or “wasps’ nest” – it was an apostrophe catastrophe!

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Wasp nest
Copyright Janet Webb

In Which Tarquin Toffsworth Comes To A Sticky End

Tarquin Toffsworth evicted his first tenants aged twelve. He found a wasps’ nest, enticed the residents outside with jam, then terminated their tenancy with his shoe.

A single wasp survived. Her name was Jemima.

Years passed. Jemima was long gone but her legend lived on. Tarquin, now an unscrupulous property tycoon, leant nonchalantly over the balcony of his thirty-fifth floor penthouse. Jolene, Jemima’s great-great-great-great granddaughter, took vengeful aim. Tarquin yelped, clutched his buttock, over-balanced and fell to his death.

A passing treacle truck broke Tarquin’s fall. Jolene swooped, landed and licked.

‘So it’s true,’ she buzzed. ‘Revenge is indeed sweet.’

(100 words)

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Never heard of treacle? It’s a sweet sticky syrup!

Need more Friday Fiction? Click the blue frog to read more stories from other fictioneers!