Ari loved this short cut through town, the cobblestone alley dipping along. He’d align his tires just right over the ramps, practically gliding. It had become a competition on how fast he could deliver bread to the Shuk.
He was late, again. Last night was a doozy. He couldn’t help but linger in bed a moment more. Not with Amber wrapped around him. Months he pursued her forbidden fruit.
In the midst of his revelry he realized the brakes wouldn’t work. Yelling and waving he hoped desperately the two girls in front of him would get out of the way.
Word Count: 100
Friday Fictioneers is a group of writers who gather each week under the divine organization of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Rochelle provides a photo prompt and we are tasked to write a 100 word story, poem etc. Please make sure to check out other writers fiction. They never disappoint, at least not me.
Image Copyright –Claire Fuller
What had possessed him to encourage the fantasies of a 12 year old, flying off to Kildare? But secretly he was curious. Anna shared every detail of Brigid’s life. He felt he knew her as he did his own beloved daughter.
After days combing through records at the county registrars, talking to townspeople, seeking corroboration, a descendant perhaps, he had doubt. Would they find proof she ever existed?
Anna led her father around the church down a worn path. “I’m there” she pointed at the grass. Kneeling he dug down revealing a single flat stone inscribed:
Word Count: 100
Friday Fictioneers is here. I love this new challenge. Every week writers post a 100-word story inspired by a photo prompt provided on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog. Click the link below to read other writer’s stories. Hope you enjoyed!
Something new for me this time. Every Wednesday Rochelle Wisdoff-Fields posts a picture prompt. Writers are asked to write a flash fiction story no more than 100 words to go along with the image. Afterwords you post a link to your story. This weeks image.
You Can Run…..
She had managed to leave him. Slipping out under the cloak of night driving as far as that tank of gas would allow, every ounce of her begging for sleep, fear coaxing keep running. Exhaustion taking over she pulled off the road.
Tipping her seat back she peered over at Katie asleep in her car seat. As the rain pelted down she closed her eyes willing tomorrow will look different, the sound like fists upon her face. She finally drifted off. With a crash she awoke hitting her head against the roof, blood dripping over her eyes, trapped once again.
—————————— or a lighter version
“How many times are you going to say it’s the last time?” she wondered groping about this stranger’s apartment in search of her bra. This was becoming a habit, twice this week alone.
In defeat she exclaimed, “God please just help me find it. So I can go. I promise I’ll repay you. I’ll be good, find a guy and stick around”
Then at the foot of the bed pink lace appeared. Quietly she slid it on and snuck her way out into the light. There she saw it. Her car demolished.
“Seriously him?” she incredulously looked skyward.