DINNER - a story for Friday Fictioneers in 100 words

DINNER

People were enjoying a peaceful dinner when the power failed, plunging the restaurant into darkness.

In the ensuing confusion tables were overturned, glasses smashed, and then the screaming started. One after another the voices rose to a crescendo ... and stopped. Then there was another sound, like a child slurping thick milkshake through a straw, but amplified a hundred-fold.

After a few moments there was nothing but silence.

When the police arrived, three strange tubes were disappearing into the ground, smeared with gore, and the floor of the restaurant was a foul, pulpy mess.

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Not the most pleasant way to make my reappearance after a few weeks absent, but those waving arms look menacing to me! Two weeks ago I was in Northern Ireland visiting my elder daughter and her husband and drinking Guinness. And last week I was painting my bedroom and my desk was inaccessible!

STAIRCASE TO HEAVEN - Flash fiction

STAIRCASE TO HEAVEN

As the afternoon sun slid towards evening, the starburst of light rose up the tower wall enticingly.

“It’ll be an amazing view,” the twins urged, but neither parent fancied the climb after a day of sightseeing.

“You go – we’ll be in the cafė,” Phil said. They watched from below as the two silhouettes shrank, four childish hands playing catch with the quivering reflections. 

Other eyes watched from above.

“It looks like a staircase to Heaven,” Jane remarked before heading for tea and cake and a nice sit down.

But appearances can be deceptive – Hell isn’t always underground.

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Why this lovely photograph taken by Roger Bultot prompted me to write this story is a mystery even to me. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog  https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/  from whence you can follow the link to read how other wirters interpreted the photo.

FRUIT - THE PERFECT GIFT : a story in 100 words

“I’m not answering any more questions!” Gilmore yelled and the nurse shooed away the man in black. Gilmour grabbed her wrist as she increased his medication. “I really was abducted, you know.”

“Of course you were, dear,” she soothed, “But you need to rest now. Look at this nice fruit basket your friend brought.”

His eyes widened in terror. “Those are eggs, not fruit!” but the drug blurred his words as she closed the door.

 When she returned, the fruit was a putrid mess, the windowsill was smeared, and the bed contained nothing but gnawed bones lying in a pool of slime.

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Thanks once again to Rochelle at 

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ for the disgusting photo that prompted this week's story. No doubt other Friday Fiction writers have written equally nasty stories which you will find by following the link 

http://new.inlinkz.com/luwpview.php?id=429917