Time for Friday Fictioneers, a 100 words of fiction based around the photo prompt provided. Follow the link and join in, go on I dare you….


Photo Copyright : Mary Shipman

Hope’s Haberdashers had been in town as long as anyone could remember and no matter who you asked, whatever age, Agatha Hope had always been there. She always asked after family, remembered everyone’s names, even those you’d forgotten yourself. Walking into the shop always felt like coming home.

It smelt of cedar and oak, of lavender and clementine. Made you want to reach out and touch things, feel the textures on your skin. All the while Mrs Hope sat on a three-leg stool in a corner of the shop and smiled.

You might carry your worries in, but you always left with hope.

Barbed Wire Heart

Time again for Friday Fictioneers, graciously hosted by the ever talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. A 100 words of fiction based around the photo prompt provided. Follow the link to join the party.

Madison WoodPhoto Copyright: Madison Wood

My heart is caught. I close my eyes and feel the barbed vice tightening across my chest. Every night I see him. I am sure of it. I never see his face or hear him speak, but I know he’s there.  I’m forever chasing shadows, casting lines I can’t reel in. He is in my head. He’s in my dreams.

But dreams are like water, they’re fluid, diluted into thoughts, and thoughts become wants and wants become needs. I want him to be there. I need him to be there.

Because if he’s not,

then he’s gone,

and if he’s gone,

then I’m alone.

The Library

Wednesday again and time for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 words of fiction based on the photo prompt provided. This weeks pic made me think of scribbles and riddles and silly type rhymes. Excuse my fluffy entry this week, not sure if it’s too much or too little wine!!

kentbonhamPhoto Copyright – Kent Bonham

Did you hear that?



What’s that?

What’s what?


There it is again

What is?

That is!

What’s that?

What’s what?


Did you hear it then?


Oh my god, you’re driving me mad. I don’t EVEN know if I heard it now.

Heard what?


What’s it?

What I heard.

What did you hear?

Forget it, I didn’t hear anything.

Then why did you say it?

Say what?

What you said

Because I did.

Did what?

Hear it!

Hear what?


There’s no need to shout, I’m not deaf!


The Devil You Know

Time again for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 words of fiction based around the photo prompt provided. Follow the link to join in the fun. I’ve gone a little dark this week, a change is as good as a rest, or so they say.


Photo Copyright : J Hardy Carroll

Light and dark, love and hate, he was friends with both, intimately acquainted. On the surface; welcoming, familiar, someone you remember, someplace you can’t forget.

And yet if you looked a little closer, held his gaze a little longer,  a sense of something darker, something you couldn’t quite place.

Evil filled his cup, though he seemed a reluctant connoisseur. An internal battle fuelled by passion and need, waged war against emotion and faith.

My soul watched, as they walked past my broken body, buried deep beneath the brambles.

Reverend Jones wiped a tear from my younger sister’s cheek.

I felt his darkness stir…