“Hey Jerry, are you all right?” Craig called out as he ran over to where Jerry was standing. “That was some blast.” When he got to Jerry, Craig looked down and saw what Jerry was staring at. “Damn,” he said.
Jerry let out a loud sigh. “I’ve been working on the motorcycle engine for three months and was about to put it back on the bike,” he said. “And now look at it. It’s just a pile of twisted parts.”
“Well,” Craig said, “it could have been worse if it had blown up while you were riding the motorcycle.”
Written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Ted Strutz.
Tricia burst out laughing. She held her phone up so her husband, Rick, could see the screen. “What the hell is that?”
Tricia smiled. “Since the kids haven’t seen Grandpa in almost two years due to COVID travel restrictions, I asked him to take a selfie and email it to me so that I could show the kids. He must have used the front camera instead of the rear one.”
“Or he did it intentionally,” Rick said. “He hates having his picture taken and it’s actually a very artistic photo.”
“You give him way too much credit, Rick,” Tricia laughed.
Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Roger Bultot.
My family had a small farm in a rural part of the state. Everyone expected me to work the farm with my dad and ma and to learn what I needed so that one day I could take it over. That was my destiny.
On my 18th birthday, I showed my folks the train ticket to Chicago and told them I was leaving to seek new horizons. Fighting back tears, they wished me well.
Now I’m sitting in the train looking out the window, watching and wondering if the new horizons will look any different than the old ones.
Written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: J Hardy Carroll.
“I’m sorry, Billy,” his mom said when he ran into the house crying, “but your favorite old tree was sick and the tree doctor said it couldn’t be saved. He said we needed to put it down so that it wouldn’t fall on our house in the next big storm.”
“Are you going to put me down, too, the next time I get sick?” Billy asked. “Like you did with our dog a few months ago and our cat last year?”
“Don’t be silly, Billy,” his mom said. “We’d never do that to you. Just don’t get sick.”
Written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Sandra Crook.
“I thought you sold that thing years ago,” Eddie said. “Why did you keep it?”
“Memories, man,” Kyle responded. “The two of us used to cruise around looking for chicks who wanted to party with us. Remember?”
“Of course I remember, Kyle,” Eddie said. “How about that awesome night with Jenny and Joanie in the back of the van? That was wild, wasn’t it?”
“Oh yeah, the sister act,” Kyle laughed. “That was the first time I did sisters.”
“And the last time too, I bet.”
“True,” admitted Kyle, “But we had good times in that old van, didn’t we?”
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Russell Gayer.