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26.4.18

SNOW ANGEL - a 100 word story for Friday Fictioneers


SNOW ANGEL

With the temperature twenty-five on the beach, the last thing we expected was snow, but after a night of heavy rain the mountain shone brilliant white.
After lunch we hired a car and drove up to look. It was magical but freezing, and we weren’t dressed for snow.
Driving back round never-ending hairpin bends, my foot slipped on the pedal and we slid towards a vertical drop.
Two feet from certain death we stopped, with the bonnet touching a snowman.
Or so I thought, until our snowman spread its beautiful wings and soared away over the sunlit void.
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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog https://rochellewisoff.com/ and to Jan Wayne Fields for the photo prompt. You can read other stories by following the above link.
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When I lived in Tenerife, the sight of snow on the mile-high Mount Teide was an annual treat for the eyes. Once the Cabildo had cleared the very steep and winding access road, locals would drive up there to play in the snow, even enjoying barbecues, before building snowmen on their bonnets and driving down - the winner being the driver who got the furthest before the snowman melted! 
There is so much more to Tenerife than the average tourist sees - it is hardly surprising that my adopted island inspired my Living Rock series of books. If you would like to buy A Volcanic Race, the first in the series, click on the cover at the top of this page.

19.4.18

CHAIN GANG - a 100 word story

CHAIN GANG

We needed six kids holding two chains each, and one to start us off.
Big Carl would grab his chain and run like crazy while our skinny legs struggled to keep up. Muscles screaming, hands burning, round and round, faster and faster, till Carl yelled ‘Now!’ and we lifted our legs and flew.

I let go once, and my loose chain took Carl’s tooth out. Skinned knees were nothing compared with the shame.

Thirty years on, Carl’s big heart gave out. When we wedged our shoulders under his coffin, all six of us were certain we heard him shout, ‘Now!’
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Douglas M Mckillroy's photo is probably of something much more industrial than a children's ride, but this is how I've interpreted this week's Friday Fictioneers' prompt from Rochelle, our glorious leader. Go to her blog  https://rochellewisoff.com/  to read other stories from our group.


What glorious weather we're having in England this week! And it's more of a treat because it's a rarity. Needing some photos for a book cover was my excuse to take the day off and get the bus to Brighton, where I managed to squeeze in lunch, a bit of shopping, and a stroll along the seafront with an icecream in my hand. The kids' rides on Brighton Pier might have influenced my choice of story!


12.4.18

UNTIL THAT NIGHT - a story in a hundred words


UNTIL THAT NIGHT

It was our dream house thirty years ago. Children raced round its rooms, their laughter bouncing off the walls, and the house itself smiled. Perfect.
Until that night we left a window open.
Now we creep around in silence, brittle as glass, afraid of breaking our fragile union. Happiness has vanished – in fact we barely speak at all – and the house sags around us for lack of love. The window stays open – there’s nothing worth stealing now.
He wants us to leave – ‘move on’ he calls it – but what if she returns and I’m not here?
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Friday Fictioneers is a group of roughly 70 writers who produce a 100 word story each week from a photo prompt. This week's photo is by Yarnspinnerr and posted on Rochelle's blog https://rochellewisoff.com/ - thanks Rochelle.
I am celebrating - quietly - having reached the end of the latest draft of Wolf Pack,   the second book in my Living Rock series. To read the first book click on the link at the top of this page.


4.4.18

AND BREATHE - a 100 word story for Friday Fictioneers


AND BREATHE

Dee hoisted Petey out of his high chair and smacked his nappy-padded bottom. He wasn’t hurt but it shocked him into taking a breath – when he held it that long it frightened her.

Petey grew into a self-willed teenager, ignoring Dee’s admonitions to stay away from the tidal pools, and his gang often bunked off school to go swimming.
One blustery day Martin misjudged his dive and the whirlpool dragged him down to certain death, but Petey took a deep breath and jumped after him.

The others counted two long minutes before he dragged Martin ashore, unconscious but alive.
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Dale Rogerson's photograph of lights made me think of whirlpools - such is my weird imagination! Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog https://rochellewisoff.com/  from whence you can follow the link to read more short stories and see what other writers made of the prompt.