SAUCE FOR THE GOOSE - flash fiction in 100 words

Hello and welcome to my blog! 
After you have read my story please feel free to scroll through and read more.
This week's photo prompt comes from the camera of Mary Shipman. Thanks as always to https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ for hosting Friday Fictioneers - an online group of writers who post flash fiction each week. To read their stories go to Rochelle's blog - after leaving a comment on here, of course!
I will be absent in May, visiting family in Canada, so will not be blogging for a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, I leave you with this story.


The General Store had hardly changed since Mason’s grandfather’s day, and that was the way he liked it. The only piece of modern machinery Mason would allow anywhere near him was his beloved motorbike.

Betty came home from visiting her mother one afternoon to find Mason tinkering with the engine in her kitchen, but he refused to move it. “It’s raining – I can’t work on it outside.”

The next morning he opened the Store to be confronted by laundry festooning the rafters. “Take it down!” he yelled.

“It’s raining,” Betty replied calmly, “And you won’t buy me a tumble dryer.”


UNDER THE WIRE - Flash Fiction for Friday


Thousands of souls wait behind the wire, their faces etched with the pain of homes abandoned, lives destroyed, families lost in the frantic flight from conflict.
 In the midst of chaos there is routine. Women turn tents and pallets into homes and gossip in laundry-sheds, men pace the paths watchfully, children make mud pies or chant lessons in small groups. 
A people in suspension.
 Hamet crouches by the wire, solitary and yearning, until the day he finds some pliers. 
Stealthily he snips and rolls under the wire - into the camp  to join the other muddy, anonymous children around the food tent.
This week's photograph was taken by Madison Woods, and I suspect I will not be the only one of Friday Fictioneers to have thought of refugee camps. To read the others, go to https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ and follow the Blue Frog link.


THE BOY SHOULD - a story in 100 words


“I am concerned about Christopher,” his father said, “He is never seen in the stables – he would be less sickly if he rode out each morning.”
“He prefers his studies,” Mary said, “And his drawings are exquisite.”
Christopher senior shuddered and pushed away his plate of kidneys. “The boy should not be showing you depictions of body parts – he will be following me into the Church.”
“He has other plans, my dear.” Mary said gently, “But he will make us proud one day.”
Mary Wren was right – after the Great Fire her son built half a city of churches.
This photograph taken by Kent Bonham made me think of churches, but also of the illustrations in antique bibles, hence my venture into historical fiction.
Christopher Wren lived from 1632 to 1723, and in his early years he did anatomical drawings, including some of the human brain. Later he studied architecture, and after the Great Fire of London he was responsible for the building of 52 churches - including St Paul's Cathedral.
Thank you to https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ for hosting Friday Fictioneers each week. Follow the Blue Frog trail from Rochelle's blog to read how other members of this group interpreted the photo.


NO SMOKING - a 100 word story


Alison was a retired teacher, and her door and biscuit tin were always open for the neighbourhood youngsters, who would drop in to seek her help with their homework, watch her television, and stroke her cats.
Alison loved them all but didn’t stand for any nonsense, and when two teenage girls lit up in her kitchen she removed their cigarettes and ran them under the tap.

An icy chill turned her round just as young hands closed on her throat, and she looked into eyes like empty windows onto a black soul while a knife slid between her ribs.