Nursery #410…

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Dank. Acrid. Sickening sweet. Death’s smell… pure and simple.

Taki gulped, wrinkling her nose as she dumped another shovel of debri on the screen. A small form appeared. Steel bracelet intact. Body, half melted, half rotted. Her eyes stung. She forced a hard swallow, cutting off a scream.

‘Reni.’ Her voice rose.

‘Yep?’ He paused, leaning on the handle of his shovel.

‘I – You need to see this.’ She swallowed hard, holding back vomit.

Reni joined her. ‘Aw, no. Not another one.’

‘Three.’ She choked out.

Silence fell over everyone.

wc: 90

 

If you would like to join the 100 word weekly writing craze known as Friday Fictioneers, please join us out at the blog of our lovely hostess, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Thank you, Karuna for such an inspirational photo this week. We love to see you stop by, and maybe even share a story with us.  You can find us all at: https://rochellewisoff.com/?wref=bif

Inconspicuous…

Roger Bultot

C.Roger Bultot

She slid onto a seat at the end of the bar where she could see both doors and everything that went on. It wasn’t that she was paranoid, but experience had taught her to always sit so. As she bent over to pick up one of the newsies from another stool, she saw him behind the cashier. Tall, slender, well groomed. She gulped, wondering if she could manage to make it out the door without being recognized.

Maybe if she slipped behind those women at the register….

Wc: 87

If you would like to join the 100 word weekly writing craze known as Friday Fictioneers, please join us out at the blog of our lovely hostess, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Thank you, Roger Bultot for such an inspirational photo this week. We love to see you stop by, and maybe even share a story with us.  You can find us all at: https://rochellewisoff.com/?wref=bif

 

Amid the Rubble…

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(Photo courtesy of google images)

 

As Sheata crossed the debris strewn lawn, her cloak snagging. She reached down to unsnag her hem, and saw something sparkle. She reached and instantly, darkness threatened to pull her down. In that moment, she felt a strong arm around her middle and squinted to make out her ‘rescuer’.

‘Reni, Ma’am, remember?’ He frowned.

‘Yes. I couldn’t see you for the sun.’ Sheata gestured.‘Awfully bright today. ‘I just saw…’ Sheata looked back down. ‘Must be under your foot, yes… Ah, there it is. See?’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ Reni reached down to pick up the object in question. It didn’t budge. ‘Just let me…grunt…’ He dislodged the object. ‘Here, Ma’am.’

Emotions squeezed at her throat as he placed the old jewelry box in her hand. Could it be possible, amid all this destruction to find…? She fumbled with the clasp, doubting it still held the necklace, gasping as she saw the jeweled starburst against the aged velvet.

Wc: 155.

 

Thank you once again goes to What Pegman Saw for taking us to the beautiful country of France and giving us a glimpse of Cirque de Navacelles, France. If you’ve enjoyed this little story, then please, come out and enjoy some others at: https://whatpegmansaw.com/blog/ . Just follow the prompt tag to the little blue frog… your adventure awaits.

Harold…

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C. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

 

‘This… a fatality? Not enough damage.’ The coroner mumbled as he was led across the intersection to the damaged car. ‘A simple fender bender, doesn’t equate.’

‘Sorry, Sir.’ The Deputy shook his head. ‘Can’t explain it myself, but the driver’s dead all the same.’

‘Let me get a look see… Ah, here it is…’ The coroner checked over the body, lifting the bloody wrist and revealing the medic id bracelet. Turning it over, he read the one word. ‘Hemophiliac. Poor man didn’t have a chance…’

wc: 85

Author’s Note: Written in memory of a local high school teacher from my home town who died in a simple little bumper crunch years ago. He was a fine gentleman and an excellent teacher. His influence is greatly missed.

 

If you would like to join the 100 word weekly writing craze known as Friday Fictioneers, please join us out at the blog of our lovely hostess, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Thank you, Rochelle for such an inspirational photo this week. We love to see you stop by, and maybe even share a story with us.  You can find us all at: https://rochellewisoff.com/?wref=bif

The Return…

Charles Day Palmer

C. Charles Day Palmer, Germany 1940’s.

The war was over and the face of society was changed in ways beyond imagining. The once grand cities of the Empire were now mere piles of twisted steel and concrete. Even the very infrastructure of society had much less cohesion than the rubble of the buildings. Still, it was a new day, and a new day meant a new lease on life.

In time, perhaps even centuries, the cities would once again return to their previous glory. Until that time, life would be hard. Dead hard. It was as simple as that.

‘We can rebuild, I’m sure of it.’ Reni spoke with a surety that he didn’t quite feel.

‘We can, but should we?’ Taki asked.

‘How can we not? Reni countered. ‘There will still be children needing to be educated. And now, even more children who have no home to return to will need a place to live. We can provide them both.’

‘There is not a single foundation stone left intact. How do you propose we can offer the children anything?’ She sighed from the depths of her soul.

‘The same way that everyone else is… by rebuilding. Besides, starting from scratch has its advantages. You’ve got to admit that much.’ He began to mention a few points until she called a halt.

‘The prospect is daunting, but realistic. First, though, we’ve got to clear this rubble.’ She picked up a small piece of concrete that had a few flecks of paint on it. Looking closer, she saw one of the points of the grand starburst that had been their school’s symbol. ‘It all begins with this…’

 

Sniper…

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Shiela looked out the window and saw it. She frowned, squinted to see it better. Was that a tree stump? How… it wasn’t there yesterday morning. No, it couldn’t be… then, it moved…

The coffee mug fell out of her hand, bounced painfully off her foot and shattered on the floor. A scream caught in her throat. That was most definitely not a stump… that was a man… dressed in camouflage. He had a rifle… a sniper’s rifle.

She looked down.

A red dot on her chest just above the lace of her nightgown.

She gulped.

Then, she sighed.

It was about time, she thought. After all these months, it was about time they found her. She accepted her fate, reached up and opened the window to give him a clear shot. At least, it would end the nightmares of what she’d seen…

 

wc: 148

If you’ve enjoyed this little story, maybe it scared you to death… hehe!… why don’t you come out and join us at “What Pegman Saw” and throw your own story into the fray… Here’s the link to the prompt, and y’all know how to follow the froggy into adventure!  https://whatpegmansaw.com/2017/05/06/yorkshire-dales-national-park/

 

 

 

Homecoming…

SandraCook

C. Sandra Cook

A smile slowly spread as tears welled and fell. A sense of disbelief washed over and around her soul. She’d made it. The flag that waved from the building was a reassurance that in only a few more steps, she’d be safe at last.

All the pains of burst blisters that covered her half-bare feet, were nearly forgotten as she took another bloody step and another. Just a few more…Just ten more…

She was there. Sobs began to wrack her body as she pulled the door open, stepped inside and collapsed. Not even war could keep her from coming home.

WC: 100 exactly.

 

If you would like to join the 100 word weekly writing craze known as Friday Fictioneers, please join us out at the blog of our lovely hostess, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Thank you, Sandra Cook for such an inspirational photo this week. We love to see you stop by, and maybe even share a story with us.  You can find us all at: https://rochellewisoff.com/?wref=bif