From outside it was simply an abandoned building, standing eerily silent with its memories.
Tall weeds proved the fire had happened years ago, but when I pushed through the rusted fence I could still smell smoke. 
A shaft of light blinded me momentarily, and when I looked again there was a man working at a bench.
“What are you making?” I asked.
He pointed to the sign above us. “I broke the rule – twelve people died.” He raised his head and I saw a flash of intolerable pain. 
“Me included,” he added before he wavered and vanished like smoke.

The above story was written in response to the photo prompt supplied by Rochelle on her blog
Other Friday Fictioneers' posts can be found here

Note: I almost didn't enter Friday Fictioneers this week. Why? Because the photo was far too apposite after my daughter suffered a fire at her apartment last Thursday!


PANCHO Friday Fiction 100 worder


The locals joked that Pancho was more goat than man when he vaulted down the terraces on his bamboo pole like a visiting god. His goats ate some of the crops but were tolerated because the male sired fine kids on the local flock.
One year Pancho also sired a child on the baker’s daughter.

Her father met him the following year and presented him with his child.
“Are you sure he’s mine?” Pancho asked and stroked its head.
Beneath his hand he felt horns budding and the child gazed at him with yellow slitted eyes.

It was his.

............... thank you for visiting - please leave a comment so I know you've been here! ...................

Friday Fictioneers write 100 words stories prompted by a photo posted by Rochelle  http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/

You can read the other stories here


SHOW & TELL - Santa Cruz

We were in Santa Cruz the other day to meet our sister-in-law off a cruise ship for lunch.
She can't walk very far, so we had a coffee first and looked at the trees in their knitted or crocheted jackets which I blogged about on 15th.
Then we walked around the town for a while and came across this really sad sight beside the church. All the lovely craft work - plaster village streets complete with doors balconies and roofs - that had been part of their Belen (crib) had simply been chucked out for the bin men.
"Surely you're not going to take that home?" the OH and the SIL asked me, and do you know what? I was tempted.


Friday Fiction - THE LESSON

Friday Fictioneers is contributed to by writers from all round the world. We write 100-word stories prompted by a photograph posted on this site
This week’s stories are on here  http://new.inlinkz.com/luwpview.php?id=360789
so do check them out.

Here's this week's picture and my story - I hope you enjoy it!


“By the light – tap, step, twirl, kick – of the silvery moon . . . ”

Felice, wearing only a towel, pirouetted in front of the mirror practising her routine, and the man on the fire-escape paused, mesmerised.
The Boss hadn’t told him she was gorgeous – just that she must be taught a lesson. He adjusted his crotch - this one would be a pleasure.

Felice caught the movement in the mirror but, like a true professional, didn’t miss a beat.
“I love to spoon – tap, step, twirl, kick!”

The towel drifted down like an autumn leaf over the felled attacker.

100 words



We went to Santa Cruz this morning to meet our sister-in-law who was visiting on a cruise ship - the Queen Mary II.
Now there's a ship that actually looks like a ship rather than a block of flats on its side.
But I digress.

The first thing we noticed in the Plaza de Espana was a tree in a woolly pullover, then several more - a whole avenue of them in fact.

Aren't they wonderful?

 Some wore knitted coats . .
 . .  others were in crochet . .
some in a mixture of both . . 

and one had a snake wrapped round its neck.  

Eccentric? Yes. Pointless?? No. We thought the fact that they made people smile was reason enough for this form of art.

The Queen Mary II looked lovely as well.



Friday Fictioneers is an online group of bloggers who each week follow a photo prompt on Rochelle's blog -  http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ - and write a 100-word piece of flash fiction. 
This week's other posts can be found here - http://new.inlinkz.com/luwpview.php?id=353888

Juan built castles for a living. Every day he took his tools to the beach, collected damp sand from the tide-mark, and constructed dreams.

Tourists would watch and take photographs – some even threw money into Juan’s bucket, although never enough - and each night drunks destroyed his work.
“When will you get a proper job?” Lucia wailed, “The rent is due.”
“I’m an artist,” Juan replied grandly and returned to his work.

But the next night he came home to find Lucia in the street, surrounded by their possessions.
He took her to the beach and built her a house.

100 words plus title.



photo from www.newsinthesun.com

Today is January 6th – Epiphany in the church calendar. To some people it is Twelfth Night – the day by which all Christmas decorations should be put away. Here in Tenerife it is Dia de los Reyes – Kings’ Day – when all good Spanish children receive gifts from the Three Kings, or a bag of coal – carbon del Rey – if they’ve been naughty.

Another Christmas tradition here is the making of a crib – un Belen – which can be anything from a plastic scene from a euro shop to an elaborate creation with life-size figures.

The one in the above photograph is mine. In 1980 I made the main figures at pottery class, then my children got in on the act. Mandy made the horse, Debs the cow, John the pig and Dan, who was two at the time, insisted on making a second infant Jesus. Even when my children are far away at Christmas, I have this crib to remind me of when they were young and always there.

In our shopping village, Las Galletas, I only just spotted this Belen in the window of the farmacia in time before they took it away. The detail is amazing.

An oxen-drawn cart and chickens . . 

. . . a village plaza with a bar in the background and a circular meeting-place, choristers mounting the steps  . .

. .  a market with ham and sausages, cheeses and potatoes for sale  . . 

. . .  flamenco dancers by the duck-pond welcoming Los Reyes on their camels . .
... and finally the inn with the Nativity scene in the cave stable beneath it - complete with Guardia Civil..




Remus and Greg are dragons whose mother lays her eggs on the wrong planet.

I am writing their story for my early-reader grandson - the first two chapters are on my KIDS' STORIES page.



Here we go again with Friday Fictioneers - an online group who write 100-word stories each week prompted by a photo on Rochelle's blog site.
Do check out the other stories by following this link

. . .   and this is my story.


Billy and his mum never went out. All their food was delivered - the empty cardboard boxes were Billy’s favourite toys.

One day Billy’s mum went to sleep and wouldn’t wake up.
Billy and Gizmo shared a box of cereal with orange juice because Billy couldn’t open the milk. Gizmo was sick in the garden, then ran up the tree and escaped over the box-like fence.

Billy was alone. His mum was still asleep and the television was scary so he turned it off. Then it was too quiet.

When the delivery man looked through the letterbox he called the police.



Someone was brave enough to enter the unheated swimming pool this morning!
. . . . . . . . . . . .  two friends met for a chat by the roundabout . . .

...... and the lime tree has burst into exuberant life in the cooler weather.

HAPPY 2014