Linda Louise Rigsbee

HomeSpun Literature is bound to please.

Archive for the category “Friday Fictioneers”

The Last Camping Trip

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August 25 Friday Fictioneer Photo Prompt by Jan Wayne Fields

 

Joe staggered toward a distant glow. His clothes had been shredded by brambles. He was exhausted, but he had to get help. His wife had insisted on going camping one more time before the baby came. Some women craved pickles and ice cream. Labor had started two hours ago, but the car wouldn’t.

He pushed brush away with bloody hands. It looked like there might be a cabin ahead. He forced his way through the last of the brush and stood before a glowing tent.

He heard the wail of a newborn before he realized the tent was their own.

 

Friday Fictioneer Photo Prompt by Jan Wayne Fields.

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A Walk In The Park

roger-bultot-flowerToday’s Friday Fictioneer Photo Prompt was provided by Roger Bultot. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers. 100 word count flash fiction. https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2017/02/01/3-february-2017/

Here is my response:

At first I could see only a block wall from the hospital window. It defined my future, going nowhere. I fell off the porch steps and broke my back. They said I would never walk again. I had become a burden to my family.

When my young son looked out the window, he saw something else.

“They could put dirt in there and plant trees. Then it would be a park for the patients.”

I thought about that long after he left. My life could be a block wall or a park. Only I could determine which it would be.

The Last Chance

Photo Prompt by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Photo Prompt by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

February 13 Friday Fictioneer response to Photo Prompt.

He stood at the porch rail, sipping his morning coffee. Some things you could count on, like the return of Spring. He thought she would return, but it had been a week. She’d never been away that long. Every couple had disagreements. It wasn’t as though he had hit her. He shouldn’t have called her a liar. Instead, he had been mistaken. She wouldn’t answer his calls. “I’m sorry” wasn’t enough. This time he had lost her. He went back into the lonely house. Someone knocked on the door. It was her; ready to give him one more chance.

Worst-Laid Plans

January 23 Friday Fictioneer Photo Prompt by Georgia Koch.

In the calm before the storm, Rafe nailed plywood over the house windows. His home was miles inland from the coast but that didn’t matter to a hurricane. Wind was wind, no matter what they called it. He wasn’Georgia Koch FF 1-23t going to stay for another blow. He was heading further inland to visit his brother.

Rafe loaded his clothes and some food into the truck before he hitched the boat behind. He headed out to the highway. Hours later, he was still on the highway – a whole ten miles down the road, in congested traffic. This time he weathered the storm in his truck.

Too Many Signs

“Right there! At the sign! You missed it! How could you miss it?”
“Which sign?” I snarled.
My husband glared at me. “Which sign? You didn’t see that sign?”
I rolled my eyes in exasperation. “There were big signs, little signs, signs on signs…which one was I supposed to be looking at?”
“Pull over. I’ll drive.”
He’d get no argument out of me about that. I hated driving in town. I pulled over and let him drive. He circled around the block and came back to the corner. I wasn’t about to tell him he turned the wrong way.

Photo Prompt by Jean L Hayes

Photo Prompt by Jean L Hayes

Procrastination by Candlelight

June 6, 2014 Friday Fictioneer’s Photo Prompt by Douglas M. Macilroy took me on free flight into the darkness. Join us every Friday with our host, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/06/04/6-june-2014/ in our 100 word response to a photo. Here’s mine:June 6

The electricity had been off for nearly an hour. My guests would arrive in the morning and I had waited until the last minute to clean house. Everything I had to do required electricity or more light than a candle could provide. I had been resisting an urge to work an on-line jigsaw puzzle, thinking the electricity would come on any minute, but I caved. I grabbed a candle and ran to my office, searching my cluttered desktop. As I turned the laptop on, the bright screen filled me with anticipation. My joy turned to disappointment as the electricity came on.

Country Morning Promise

ImageMay 23 Friday Fictioneer Photo Prompt this week is by Erin Leary.

 

It was a cool spring morning.  The smell of fresh warm milk drifted up from the pail with each squeeze of my hand.  My head rested against the warm belly of the goat while I listened to her munch on grain.  Below the make-shift milk shed, fog drifted around the house.  I was the only one up to enjoy the miracle of a new day being born.

As I made my way down the rocky slope with the pail of milk, the rooster crowed.  Yesterday was the funeral.  Today was the promise.  Life goes on.

Diving into the Helmet

Douglas M Macilroy provided April 18 Friday Fictioneer Photo Prompt

Douglas M Macilroy provided April 18 Friday Fictioneer Photo Prompt

April 18th Friday Fictioneer’s Flash Fiction Photo Prompt by Douglas M Macilroy transported me back to motherhood in “Diving into the Helmet.”

I get that the toy diver’s helmet was never meant for an adult head, but there should be some easy way to get the thing off. It would be bad enough for a 9-year-old to catch his mom cleaning his room, but to find me in this helmet?
I didn’t hear the bus stop or the front door open, but I had no trouble hearing Andy guffaw.
When he opened the latch on the helmet and released me, I gave him a stern look and said “Next time clean your own room.”
Muffled laughter followed me out the door.

Memorable Evenings

Photo Prompt by D Lovering. April 11, 2014 Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/04/09/11-april-2014/

ImageHer head throbbed as she frowned at the bedraggled streamers.  She must have imbibed too much last night.  She turned to Demetrius.  “What was the occasion?”

“Ah, my love,” he lifted her hand to his lips and responded in a mildly offended tone.  “Surely you have not forgotten.” His handsome face offered no clue to the mystery.
  A storm had awakened her this morning and she had been alone in her room at the time.

He sighed.  “We are engaged.”

She jerked her hand from his.  “I would have remembered…” Her voice faltered when a diamond ring winked from her finger.

Thanks to

Alien Light

April 4, 2014 Friday Fictioneer photo prompt

April 4, 2014 Friday Fictioneer photo prompt

I used the wrong photo for a prompt, so I wrote two flash fiction stories today. Here is the correct one…I think.

I always saw figures in wood grain and fluffy clouds, so it was no surprise when I saw the alien hanging from the ceiling at the studio. It had two glowing eyes, a fluorescent muzzle and strange metal ears. It was angry with me – probably because I kept staring at it.
An elbow jabbed my ribs. “It’s your line.” Sharon whispered.
I only had three words in the play, but darned if I could remember what they were.
She rolled her eyes in exasperation and whispered urgently. “It’s a monster.”
“No, it’s just a light,” I assured her.

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