When the silence comes,
And all the music fades,
When the darkness falls,
And all the light cascades,
When the laughter dies,
And all the smiles expire,
When your name is called,
And all the fates conspire.
Back from a few days away and time to blow the writing cobwebs. Where better than the fab Friday Fictioneers. A 100 words (you’re not shot for going over) of fiction based on the weekly photo prompt. Follow the link and give it a go.
Photo Copyright : G.L. MacMillan
Certain places, like certain people, can instantly announce their character. In the case of the living, no particular feature need betray them; on the surface an open expression or an innocent smile and yet there’s a certainty that somethings amiss. Perhaps the same could be said of places. A feeling so intense that it tingles the nerves.
Moira ran from the tent clutching the love potion to her chest. The sky grew darker and the wind grew stronger as the old gypsy cackled in the background,
“Change those labels Fred, ‘Madam Ruby’s Love Elixir’ is going to sell way better than ‘Mrs Ruby’s Lemonade’ ever did”.
Back on track and into the land of the living. So here’s this weeks attempt for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word piece of fiction for the weekly changing photo prompt. It’s a pain free addiction.
I broke my journey today. Just on a whim, simply because the sun was shining. I walked through the streets, here and there. A passage of moments, here and there.
I knew the place, or I thought I did. But maybe I didn’t know it all. Maybe I recognised it from a film or a photograph in a book. Is that what I fear?
A fear that beneath the recognition, beneath the stones and mortar and the familiar scented breeze, that there is really just a hollowness. An emptiness disguised.
I thought I knew the place. Perhaps I’ll know it now.
At last the tide has turned, term has ended and markings done. Like coming out of a darkened room into the sunshine, my eyes are slowly adjusting to the sunlight, and I’m reclaiming that little bit of me time.
I’ve missed Friday Fictioneers for a few weeks and have felt bereft. If you want to know why, follow the link and have a go. A 100 words of fiction based on the photo prompt provided. Its the greatest bit of entertainment you don’t have to pay for…
Photo Copyright : Stephen Baum
The rain is falling heavily, there is such loneliness about today and everything seems still. In the distance, I see shapes appear then fade: figures on the verge of being. They beckon me over. I stare. They go. Then there’s only me.
Sometimes the figures suggest themselves. They emerge, images of light, fragile images from somewhere past. They come slowly, rising like bubbles from a polluted stretch of water, malodorous and putrid; a magma flow of memories.
They appear without control. With memories, there is little choice. The worst of times are often stronger than the light we fight to reach.