Discovery

Jimmy watched his ball roll down the bridge and land amid the rubble at the edge of the boardwalk.  

“Sam! C’mere, I found something,” Jimmy yelled.

Sam hesitated. Looking over his shoulder, he took two tiny steps, then backed up.

“I’m scared.  You know Mom told us never to go down there.  She’s probably right behind us.”

“Trust me, Sam..she is not gonna get mad,” pleaded Jimmy.

Sam, not wanting to look afraid,  joined his older brother at the bottom of the bridge.  

His eyes grew big at the sight of the dirty duffle full of money.

“I think our troubles are over, man.”                                  ff 12 12 14

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Thanks to our hostess Rochelle WIsoff-Fields for choosing this week’s photo prompt which belongs to Sandra Crook.   Follow this link to read more flash fiction!  You won’t be sorry.

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/

Faded Flower

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers.  The challenge:  write a complete story in 100 words using the photo prompt.  Hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields..

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/

Here’s my story…

 

 

She slowly smoothed the soft lotion into the paper-thin skin covering her hands.  Once she had thick strong fingers, now they were thin and twisted with arthritis and could barely twist the lid off and on.  She gazed into the mirror, gently pulling back the skin on each side of her face.  A sigh escaped from her throat.  Would he remember her…. the way she looked now? She gazed through the window at the ice-covered flower.  Remnants of the old girl were still visible, but only to the one who knew her best.

She opened the door and smiled.

 

copywrite  Janet Webb

copywrite Janet Webb………

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Ed’s Edsel

friday fictioneer  “You can’t park that thing here.  What would the neighbors say?  If you don’t move that … that…. piece of junk by noon, I’ll have it towed!”

 

Piece of junk? I thought to myself.  This was a customized Edsel for Pete’s sake…. altered to accept a quick-attach bucket and backhoe…. it was one of a kind.

It would come in handy around the neighborhood, moving a pile of dirt, digging out old  shrubs.  It was perfection. The yellow safety color was an added plus; visible for miles.

Just needed a decal….Ed’s Digging…  service like back in the 50’s.   And beyond.

 

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Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, photo credit this week to Jean L Hays.

Read more stories at  http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/

 

 

 

 

Harvest

After a brief intermission of rain, the combines are back in the corn fields.  Soybean harvest was completed last week.  It’s a relief to have that part done, because weather can wreak havoc on the beans if they are left in the field.

Corn harvest takes longer.  It involves grain dryers, storage bins, grain carts, and long hours unloading trucks full of grain. While we haul almost all of our soybeans straight to the grain terminal, we store all of our corn on the farm so there is more labor involved;  hauling and unloading.  Seems like there are more things that can go wrong as well.  We have a “new”  grain dryer this season which has a larger capacity.  When we fired it up for the first time, it blew a transformer on a nearby electric pole, so there was a delay waiting for the power company to arrive and fix that. There’s always an occasional flat tire to fix, too.

changing tire

My job, as usual, is keeping everyone fed and watered.  It can be a full time job on busy days, especially when there are workers in different locations.  Sometimes the hardest part is finding everyone!  I have a list of foods that, in my opinion are easy to fix and deliver to workers who don’t want to slow down to eat, but need nourishment.

Friday it rained enough to bring everything to a halt, so we went out for supper, and Saturday we went out again with friends for a nice meal.  It was nice to have a break in the action.

 

 

 

Struggles

Friday Fictioneer 10 31

Some saw a table for two or three, hosting an impromptu lunch on a sunny day.

Others saw a much-needed break in the daily routine… fresh air, laughter, conversations with friends and coworkers.

Charles saw none of that.  

He saw perspiration and aching shoulders. He smelled the odor of ammonia and felt water sloshing against his legs as he shuffled around the building.  He saw the indifference in the eyes of others as they passed by without noticing. He saw the loneliness of his life reflected back at him.  

“Hey buddy!  You missed a spot!”

Charles cynically continued his work.   

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This week’s photo for Friday Fictioneer is provided by Melanie Greenwood.

Our hostess Rochelle Wisoff-Fields has kept the 100 word flash fiction going for over two years.  Read what others had to say at    http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/

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Trembling

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Industrial sounds echoed across the sound of water. I couldn’t tell how far away I was from either of the sounds.  Throbbing pain on the left side of my head made me feel around for something to hold onto.  I clutched cold metal under my fingertips and was suddenly spooked by a whoosh of air and a rattle behind me.

“Look out, lady!  This is a bike lane.”  

I halted, afraid to move.  

I waited for human voices. 

The absence of words or laughter set me into a panic.

“Ma’am? Your head is bleeding.  Do you need help?”

I sobbed.

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Happy 2nd Anniversary to the creator of Friday Fictioneers…. Rochelle WIsoff-Fields. Thanks to The Reclining Gentleman for the photo that sparked our ideas this week.

Follow this link to read more fascinating stories:   http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/

Changes

still-life-with-doug ff

Photo Credit Douglas M MacIlroy

 

Closing time.  

Martha thought this was the saddest time of the year.  It was the end of early morning walks on the beach, searching for shells and sea glass.  It was the end of carefree summer days, reading under the umbrella on hot lazy afternoons.  It also meant returning home to forecasts of fog, rain,  icy snowy days and  darkness in the late afternoon.  This would be the first “empty nest” winter. The kids were both settled on campus.

It would just be Martha and Bill for the first time in many years.

 Martha smiled.

 

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One hundred words (mine was 98 this week)  Hosted by Rochelle for the weekly Friday Fictioneers.  You will enjoy the stories there.  I guarantee.

 

 

 

Friday Fictioneer