“Ta da!” Ryan said, extending his arm toward the end of the corridor at the shopping mall. “What do you think?”
Fran looked where Ryan was pointing and then back at Ryan. “What is it?”
￼”It’s a work of art,” Ryan said. “The owners of the mall commissioned me to create something for this dead space.
“Oh,” Fran said.
“I call it ‘Constant Flow’ because it uses a recirculating pump to keep the water flowing from the fire hose nozzle to the pool below and back up,” Ryan explained.
“I’m impressed,” Fran said, “that anyone would pay you for that.”
Written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisigoths-Fields. Photo credit: Anne Higa.
“Have you ever been to Seoul Town?” Jenny asked me.
“No, but I used to watch ‘Soul Train’ back in the day,” I said. “Did you ever watch that show?”
“No,” Jenny said. “I’m talking about Seoul Town, as in Seoul, the capital of South Korea.”
“No,” I said, “I’ve never been to South Korea.”
“No, I’m talking about here in the city,” Jenny said. “They have some great Korean restaurants there.”
“I’ve eaten in Chinatown and in Japan Town, but never Seoul Town,” I said.
“Well let’s go tonight,” Jenny said. “It’s kinda funky, but the food is fantastic.”
Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Brenda Cox.
“Hi little boy,” the kindly old lady standing in front of the town bakery with a tray full of gingerbread cookies said. “Would you like to try one?”
The little boy looked at the cookies on the tray, looked up at the old woman, and started to cry.
“Oh my gracious,” the old woman said. She looked at the little boy’s mother and said, “I’m so sorry that I made your little boy cry.”
“It’s not your fault,” the mother said. “Ever since we read him “Hansel and Gretel,” he associates gingerbread cookies with the witch who eats little children.”
Written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Jennifer Pendergast.
“Dad, look at that weird tree,” Danny said.
“That’s actually a type of fig tree,” Danny’s father said. “It’s called a Banyan tree. It start’s life as a seed that germinates on another tree, grows as a vine dependent on the tree for support, and eventually strangles and subsumes its host tree. Banyan trees can grow to 100 feet tall and live for a thousand years. Its roots grow from outward-extending branches and reach the ground, becoming trunk-like, which is why some call it the walking tree.”
“Dad, why are you always making silly shit up?” Danny asked.
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Liz Young.
Between her demanding job, her overbearing husband, and her needy children, Veronica had lost herself. Maybe her husband was right when he said her midnight walks along the shoreline were self-indulgent. But she also knew that without her “me time,” her sanity would be at risk.
She was tired of being defined by her labels: employee, wife, mother. She was more than that, and she needed this solitary, peaceful, quiet, alone time each night in order to maintain her bearings, to hang on to her individuality. She needed to remind herself that she was still a vibrant, independent woman.
Written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Phot credit: CEAyr.