Tale Weaver #315: The Bald Man
Sitting at the edge at the bathtub, naked, bald, one hand clutching a bottle of bourbon, the other a bottle of pills, Alex felt sad, alone, and lost.
Thursday Photo Prompt – Deeper and Deeper… #Writephoto #shortstory #suspense
Deeper and Deeper we trek into the woods. We must be at least almost two miles in by now as my throat begins to feel parch. What does he want with me and why me? I keep asking myself as I focus on hatching a plan.
Friday Fictioneers: Behind the Scenes
Sometimes, I think there’re more interesting things happening behind the camera than in front.
Friday Fictioneers: Showtime
“Re…lax,” I inhale and exhale, dragging the word, doing everything to calm the tension in my body. I shouldn’t be this nervous. Come on, I’m performing to a crowd on Zoom, not some important figure.
Friday Fictioneers: Untitled
I stood there, staring at my husband’s desk. I should’ve known it’d be too good to be true. Neat-freaks and scatterbrains aren’t opposites. They don’t attract. They repel.
Friday Fictioneers: Just Another Day
“What cha doin’?” George asks.
Friday Fictioneers: The Stranded Mr. C
Mr. C stares at the sign and sighs. Still gone as it has been for 50 years. He’s stranded in this desolate place as his brain kept wandering back to that fateful night. What went wrong? “I triple-checked that spirit-meter, didn’t I?” He muttered.
Friday Fictioneers: Christmas Bedtime Story
“They call this the “Scrooge Farm”. Instead of Christmas decoration each year, around Christmas, there would be scarecrows dressed in rags and sandbags for heads popping up in random places ’round the farm. Now, no one has ever seen the owner as there’s no house on the hundred-acre property. “
Friday Fictioneers: Another Pandemic
Tossing his jacket onto the table, he sat down and sighed. He couldn’t believe it. Another pandemic. I’m 109, how many more events do I need to go through?
Friday Fictioneers: Crapulously Fabulous
Great, fantastique, awesome, super. Just how many more different ways can I exaggerate this situation? I don’t know what gave anyone the idea or the impression I can single-handedly put together a Thanksgiving dinner in 4 hours. 4 HOURS!!! There I was, slaving away in the kitchen – turkey, vegetables, and stuffing in the oven,…
Friday Fictioneers: Chaotic World
Sitting on this park bench, I am supposed to feel cold but somehow, I feel nothing except exhaustion and resignation.
Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Winter
A typical wintry scene here – snowy mountains and an almost-full moon.
Friday Fictioneers: Hoping for Guidance
Sitting in her car, Shelley debates whether she should go in.
Friday Fictioneers: History Test
“Welcome to the future!” A large headline flashes before me. I suppress a laugh.
Friday Fictioneers: To Conquer a Fear
With her hand in mine, my daughter and I walk toward the Ferris wheel. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Friday Fictioneers: Grandma’s Piano
“How dare you destroy my precious piano?” Grandma? I wanted to say but my lips had turned to jello.
Friday Fictioneers: Missing in France
“My husband is missing, you must help me!” I pleaded in broken French.
Friday Fictioneers: Doomed World
I live in a doomed world, I think grimly as I huddle in the dark corner of the Red Mountain Market and Deli, my go-to grocery store some 20 years ago. Teeth clattering, hands shaking, I reach into my jacket pocket for my trusty bottle of Ibuprofen. Great, final two.
Friday Fictioneers: Secret Admirer
“Tell me how you find these again?” Jen asked.
Friday Fictioneers: The Scream
“The scream, which occurs every day at precisely 3 PM, can be heard from a mile away.
Friday Fictioneers: Stopping Winter
“There’s got to be a way to stop this wretched winter!” Jezebel, the eldest of the witch sisters, said, slamming shut the thick book on her lap.
Friday Fictioneers: Two Guys in the Desert
With one hand on the wheel, I undo my tie with the other. Just three hours before, I shouted, “I’m done,” and stalked out.
Friday Fictioneers: The Car in the Woods
Chuy barked, tilted his head and sniffed the air. “What is it, boy?” I bent down and patted his head. Chuy barked again but before I could get a hold on his leash, Chuy shot into the woods. “Chuy, wait!” I yelled and ran after him. Running after him was like running after a car.…
