Old Batty

Authors Note: Thank you, Rochelle, for your car memory that inspired this glimpse into the past. 🙂 The car in question was named “Old Batty”.

Kent Bonham

C. Ken Bonham

My first car, an old police cruiser. Had a heck of a passing gear. Chuckles. Cost me $500, paid through sweat work at the police department. It was grey, and smelled funny.

On my first trip to the mall, I discovered the “interceptor” quite by accident. Got busted by highway patrol. Officer laughed at my fear as I said I didn’t understand what had just happened. 35Mph to 110mph in a matter of seconds. He graciously explained how “not” to engage the gear, and followed me to the nearest gas station. My tank went from full to empty as well.

WC: 100

Don’t have a pic of the actual car, but this could be a dead-ringer for Old Batty… The remains of the police decal remained with the car until the day it died.

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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, Janet Webb 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=b

Junque Boutique

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C. Janet Webb

It wasn’t much, but it was all the world. Kelly sighed. She couldn’t believe that she’d found any of her family’s heirlooms in the old ‘Junque Boutique’. Without even looking at the price tags, she pulled out her wallet and paid the old storekeeper.

‘These all came from the same family…’ His voice rasped. ‘They lived over on Miller’s street. He built the water and sewer systems for the village back in the day. His daughter was a hell-raiser.’

She shrugged as if what he said meant nothing at all to her. She just hoped he didn’t recognize her.

Wc: 99

 

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, Janet Webb 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=b

Staple of Humanity

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C. Claire Sheldon

She stared at the cup of staples, contemplating. What does one do with such a collection, anyway? Then like a mad dervish, she poured them out on her desk, grabbed the glue and began to form…well, something.

Slowly, staple by staple the statuette grew. Long strands became misshapen legs. Short strands awkwardly posed arms. A massively tangled ball became the torso, topped with a smaller one for the head.

In the end she sat back with a smile. “Waste not, want not” her lifelong mantra became a representation of humanity. Tangled, full of sharp points, and messy.

WC:97

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, Claire Sheldon 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=b

Ghetto.

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C. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

 

The narrow streets of the ghetto, not so unlike her new home. Only here, they didn’t feel so confining. In the heat of the noonday, stone walls kept her cool. She stepped out with her groceries in hand.

Only for a moment, she let her mind drift into the past, and the ghetto prison. Mentally, she heard the cries of the dying, the prayers of the living for death. Then, she crossed through the breach of light created by a break in the wall, and heard the laughter of children at play, and songs of thanksgiving. Ghetto no more, home.

WC:100

Author’s note: During WW2, many unsuspecting people were lured into the ghettos and death camps by promises of a new life rich with work, education, etc.  Many ended up in camps as a result of not being able to immigrate to other nations not yet controlled by the Nazi party.  It leaves history to ask how many lives might have been saved?

 

Isolation.

Pitcairn Island

Pitcairn Island, compliments of Google maps.

 

Isolation, she craved it so bad it hurt. She needed to get away from the crazy, hectic, city-life. So, when she read the ad, it fit her needs perfectly. Now, as she looked at the narrow dirt road, navigable only by foot, she was beginning to have second thoughts.

Any minute, she expected to see a large iron gate with a banner reading “Abandon hope, all Ye who enter here.” Shivering at the thought, she rounded the first curve, smiling as the dense undergrowth gave way to a small clearing. The clearing held four huts around a firepit with a large cauldron bubbling away, and a line of villagers watching her.

It was a homey sight.

“Hello!” She smiled, waving a greeting.

‘Welcome to dinner,” They called.

Their recent foray into modern advertising had expanded their menu greatly.

WC: 138.

Author’s Note: Moral of the story: Be careful what you wish for. Heheheee!

Thank you once again goes to What Pegman Saw for taking us to a new place we’ve never been, this week to Pitcairn Islands. 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.

Mercy Ferry

Ted Strutz

C. Ted Strutz

Authors Note: Due to a particular turn of words, it’s necessary to redact a sentence. Suffice it to say it was not in the best interest of life in our times. So, forgive the redaction.

White knuckles on wheel, river of sweat down spine; aching clutch of lungs, and she wasn’t even on the ferry, yet. Soon the gently rock from side to side would bring nausea, too. She hated the ferry, but it was a necessity.

At least, this would be the last time, she thought as tears blurred her vision. It was her turn… dead center, surrounded. Perfect. [REDACTED]… Calmly walking to the back gate, mentally calculating the time. She jumped.

Behind her, the ferry exploded.

The next day, hundreds of miles away, Mercy began a new life.

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, Ted Strutz 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=b

http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=721241

 

I was listening to this song when I opened inet this morning… It set a dismal mood, but I wanted to pump it up. So “Mercy” found a way to escape… feel free to decide for yourself why she felt the need to do what she did in order to escape. I’m sure your minds can do that. 🙂 Enjoy… I hear the next ferry is about to board….

In the Palms…

The inner dome of the habitation represented different major cities from Terra Firma. My favorite was that of Palm Island of Dubai. Each frond was a community and each community had it’s own specialty. I liked the third frond on the east side. It was the Arts community. I loved strolling down the boulevard and visiting the little art shops. I sold my own art there, too.

The art dealer was a grizzled old man, one of the original colonists who set out from Terra. He had a keen eye for the esoteric and abstract. I never understood why he paid such particular attention to my average landscapes and city scenes drawn from picture files in the archives. One day, I dared to ask.

‘Your work reminds me of home.’ He muttered, a tear hanging on the end of his eyelashes.

wc:141

Thank you once again goes to What Pegman Saw for taking us to a new place we’ve never been, the  Burj Khalifa in Dubai. 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.

Authors Note: As I went out and looked for pics of Dubai, the one of the man-made islands of which this Palm Island was considered one, caught my eye. I wasn’t too impressed by the tall buildings and spires, but the shape of this island caught me and made me think of Dyson’s Spheres and such.