#FridayFictioneers – Road’s Closed

PHOTO PROMPT © Björn Rudberg

“Road’s closed,” George huffed, slipping his pack off and tossing it. He settled beside it and pulled a canteen free. “Guess we’re heading back.”

“We can’t. Look at all that nature.” Riley gestured out beyond the horizon, his voice panicked. “No way can we turn back now.”

George pulled hard from the canteen and nodded. “You may be right.”

Riley grinned. “I knew you’d…”

“Hold on,” George interrupted. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to take pictures or whatever. Then I’m heading back.”

Riley stomped off. There was no sense in arguing.

Walking back, George considered driving back to get his sign.

WC: 100

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#FridayFictioneers – Squatching


Brittle brown winter grass crunched beneath the Captain’s booted feet as he stepped from the cruiser and cast a skeptical eye over the scene.

“Sir,” a young man called from down the incline .

The captain cut in. “Why detective, am I in the middle of nowhere?”

“It’s Sarah. She’s gone.”

“Oh come on. She does this sort of thing.”

“Not like this.  She would never leave her camera,” he replied exasperated. “And besides that, the photos.”

“Photos?” the captain questioned. “Was she Squatching again?”

The detective slowly shook his head.  “Yeah, and she may have had some luck this time.”

WC:  100

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Along the Paseo

Won't you sit with me,
On the patio.
Perhaps we could walk,
Along the paseo.

Either way,
It would be nice to talk.
Small or large,
I'll be sure not to balk.

Stop along and smell the flowers,
Sitting 'neath tall trees.
Listening to beautiful music,
Of the chirping chick-a-dees.

Won't you walk with me?
Talk with me?
Be with me?

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#FridayFictioneers – Flying

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Marko’s reflection fell off the edge of the sliding glass door as it opened to the balcony.  Scents of coco-butter and flowers pushed long dark strands across a tanned face.

Wind swept memories tickled his mind as he stepped from the room.  He had flown, had known the freedom of it, and now he was weighted so firm he could not even think how.  But why?

Nothing made him stop.  Nothing he could remember.

Stepping over the rail, he set eyes on the horizon.  If he could just remember.

Leaning forward, he thought, “if you don’t jump, you’ll never know.”

WC:  100

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#FridayFictioneers – The Champ

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Roberto slapped the buzzing clock into silence.  Could it really be 4:00 am already?

He hurt.  All over.  Last night’s fight had been a rough one, and he bore the cuts and bruises to prove it.

Groaning, he rolled from the bed and grinned.  Yes, it had been rough, but also glorious.  He could feel the belt hanging heavy about his waist.  The best feeling in the world.  He was the champ.

That wasn’t permission to rest though.  He hadn’t become the champ by resting.  The gym waited.

Pulling on sweats, he stepped into the cold.  It was time to train.

WC:  100

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#FridayFictioneers – Early Spring?

PHOTO PROMPT © Marie Gail Stratford

“It’s not my fault,” Pops said looking out the kitchen window at the garden.

The sun shone bright on a clear, cold morning. Coffee brewed on the counter. Its aromatic smell wafted through the kitchen.

“Not your fault?” mom questioned. “I think that it was you who put them out.”

“It was warm,” Pops offered with a shrug. “I can’t control the weather.”

“A few seventy degree days in February doesn’t mean winter is over.” Mom pointed a sideways glare at dad.

He shrugged again and poured two cups full of freshly brewed coffee. “Well, you never know.”

WC: 98

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