As Miriam climbed the grassy staircase she could feel the eyes burning holes in her back. She heard whispers, but couldn’t make out what was said.
Slowly ascending the stoney staircase, Miriam realized she would never return. She hesitated and was knocked off balance by a burst of wind that instructed her to continue the ascent.
When she reached the top it was waiting for her. She climbed in, shut the door, and wiped her eyes. Suddenly, she felt a sense of weightlessness; and the village and its inhabitants looked smaller than ever. Soon the village disappeared beneath the clouds.
This is a Friday Fictioneers prompt and is based off of the photo below. Please feel free to share constructive criticism.
I haven’t posted a Friday Fiction story in a while and I thought I’d go into the short story vault and pick out a favorite. I hope you enjoy it. If so, feel free to head over to A Short A Day and read some more.
“Will all visitors stand and remain standing.” Heads turn in all directions to see the handful of fresh, new faces that stand around the church.
“We’re so glad you are worshiping with us, as we know you could have attended another place of worship today. We want you to feel welcome, and a part of our church family because we are family.”
“Yeah right,” I think to myself. All the crap and foolishness I see going on here, if this is a how family act; then I want out.
“Now let’s make our visitors feel welcome, by greeting them with a smile and a holy hug.”
“Oh yeah,” I think. “We are family alright. The type of family that will smile in your face and stab you in the back all at the same time.” This is the part of the service I absolutely loathe. The same people who rolled their eyes at me coming into church and didn’t say two squirts of piss to me not even five minutes earlier are now going to start coming my way to give me a damn “holy hug.” Continue reading
Today’s Friday Fiction was inspired by the folks over at Flash! Friday. Enjoy! And please feel free to share your thoughts.
Rose licked the berry juice from her hands.
They were especially plump and juicy. The reddish purple juice would flood from some of them so quickly she barely had time to catch it before it streamed down her arm and stained her white shirt sleeve.
Rose wondered if the stories were true. If you eat the berries you would die. She quickly popped one in her mouth and discovered it was the most sinfully delicious thing she had ever eaten.
She heard a boom in the distance and suddenly her white tunic and pants were covered in crimson red. Her bare feet began to feel warm. Looking at her feet she discovered she was standing in a reddish purple puddle.
Where was this coming from? No one else was around. She felt a warm steam down her leg. At that moment she realized the puddle was her own blood. She fell to the ground and smiled.
“Deadly delicious,” she said.
Today’s Friday Fiction is a Flash! Friday prompt.
The Sea Horse. Photo and sculpture by Jeffro Uitto; used by permission.
This is all Jess has left of her husband, father, and brother, her boys as she called them.
They worked on the sculpture of her favorite childhood horse for nearly a year. Her father would inevitably find something wrong with it. And in the beginning Alex, Jess’s husband, never saw the problem.
“It’s gotta be perfect,” Continue reading
I’ve still got a few more letters to catch up before the Blogging A to Z Challenge is over. The letter ‘J’ was Day 10 and was supposed to be my Friday Fiction. I had the story percolating since before then, but I had one stipulation. It had to be a piece of micro fiction. And I went with Twitter fiction. 140 characters no more no less.
Justice is my name.
They wanted justice and in two days 5 hours they would have justice.
Justice was his name, but justice never served him.