Her Entrance

Hello Friday Fictioneers!

For those of you, who do not take part in the Friday Fictioneers blog group, please accept this as an invitation. Every Wednesday we are provided with a photo and the goal is to offer a short story using 100 words. This task is the true challenge and I find it very inspiring reading the other members view on the photo prompt.

Each participate then have the opportunity to review, comment, and/or provide constructive criticism. Therefore we live, learn, and improve. Come join and have some fun!

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the host and on her behalf I extend a welcome to all participants.

Copyright-Claire Fuller

“My mind is captured by thoughts of her. I can smell her perfume and hear her voice. What do I do?”

“Tom, I have known you since grade school. Who are you talking about?”

“The woman from my dreams; she comes and visit almost every night.”

“What does she say?”

“’Hold me’ and then I grab her and love instantly permeates.”

Doorbell rings.

“Hey Tom, this is my cousin Sara from Tennessee.”

Standing in shock and shaken. Can this really be the woman from my dreams?

She approaches, “Have we met before?”

I can’t blow this now! What’s next?

Click here to read other Friday Fictioneers

The Whispered Call

Hello Friday Fictioneers! I am really enjoying the opportunity to share and read others short stories.

For those of you, who do not take part in the Friday Fictioneers blog group, please accept this as an invitation. Every Wednesday we are receive a photo and the goal is to give a short story using 100 words. This task is the true challenge and I find it very inspiring reading the other members view on the photo prompt.

Each participate then has an opportunity to review, comment, and/or offer constructive criticism. Therefore we live, learn, and improve. Come join and have some fun!

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the host and extends a welcome to all participants.

Below is my contribution.

Copyright-Renee Homan Heath

Did someone call me?
“Katelyn”
I don’t know anyone here.
I am tired and I do not want to be noticed.
The struggle to fight is unbearable.
I just want to go quietly, knowing the plans for tonight.
Should I answer the voice beyond the brush?
“Katelyn”
It is so welcoming and inviting.
Walking across the boardwalk bare feet, I feel as if I am in another world.
A new hope grows with every step.
In the distance could that really be him.
All of my strength leaves me as I looked at the silhouette of my love.

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Genre: Realistic Fiction – Missing Love

“Missing Love” is my contribution to the Friday Fictioneers blog club. We attempt to put 100 words to a provided photo. The stories are unique and I thank Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting these events. Please read, comment, and take part. Everyone’s talent is a gift and to share it with us is a pleasure.

Copyright by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

It’s been 35 years since I’ve seen you. Today is a special day and I wish you were here. I have attempted to find you on many occasions but to no avail, I kept on living. I have experienced many of life challenges since your departure.

I remember the day we got the call, John was sitting to the table coloring and we quickly performed what we practiced for months. John’s memory is so vague, but I remember like it was yesterday. John is getting married today wish you were here.

In tears, “others were found but where are you!”

By Y.Jones

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Sweet Innocence

This mini story is my contribution to the Friday Fictioneers  blog, by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. To find out more information or take part in Friday Fictioneers, please select the link above. This is my first posting for Friday Fictioneers, however, I do believe that I will enjoy.

Picture copyright Lora Mitchell

Gazing up admiring the fireworks Jimmy said, “Mom.”
“Yes, dear.”
“Do you think that we are making too much noise for God”, asked Jimmy, as the fireworks set off in their hometown of Wallaville.
“I don’t believe so dear.”

“Do you think that God goes into HIS room and close the door, hoping that the noise would be over?”
“No dear.”
“Mom, are we supposed to do what God does?”
“Certainly dear.”
“I guess I have to learn how to be like God? I get tired of hearing you and daddy fussing.”

Author: Y.Jones