Rusty

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt

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I am happy this week for a couple of reasons. a.) I was able to take time out and write a story ! b.) I was able to come up with something on my own rather than rely on movies for some inspiration !

Also I am not so happy cause a.) The way I see it I am packed with work going ahead and am not sure how many other stories I will be able to read b.) My story is a 110 words. I brought it down from 130 to 110 and then left it as such.

I will try to make it to as many stories as possible. Also hope to hear from you guy as to how you found my story.

My story follows the photo prompt below

Rusty

Rusty the clown was the talk of his town. Jam packed audiences resounded with laughter at his shows. Newspapers ran reviews praising his vividly entertaining performances.

With the advent of television the crowds dwindled and Rusty was sidelined.

A lot of advertising couldn’t generate a big turnout for his last show. When he jumped from the high wire onto the piano everybody laughed. They realized only when a few minutes had passed by and a pool of blood appeared.

Newspapers carried the photo of Rusty’s legs protruding out of the piano. “A suicide or an act gone wrong ?”. He had again become the talk of the town.

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The Day Bumblee transformed into a Crossbred

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt

My story follows the photo prompt below

Copyright – EL Appleby

“What got into bumble bee?”

“He was watching Lion King the previous night when Witwicky was busy doing his jungle call.. if you know what I mean.. hmm.. agh… Anyway he got spooked when the paparazzi broke into Witwicky’s home. Transformed himself into a ..ah.. and tried to make a run for it”

“at least the new technology works.. it looks so real.. all over the news.”

“Optimus blew his radiator when he heard about it. We will sneak him out tonight.. plant a story… mad scientist crossbreeding experiment gone wrong and the animal dying”

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I am not happy with my story. It’s such a beautiful prompt courtesy El, I am saddened I couldn’t do something better with it.

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My Inception ;)

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt.

Due to my laptop issues I am late for this story. But better late than never I guess

My story follows the photo prompt below

Copyright – Janet Webb

“It dangerous Ana.”

“Just plug me in.. let me see kiss him once more”

Her pleas with her brother went on for a long time….

“It’s not a movie. You won’t have a totem, none of the real world objects can be transported into the dream. Once you see the signal, realize the dream and try to wake up. If time elapses on the machine you will wake up forcibly with a deranged mind – limbo “

“The dress in the dream will remind me.. that he died.. that it’s not real”

She had seen the dress but accepted the dream as a reality. She now sat peering out of the window – lost.

 

 

A lesson in History

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt.

My story follows the photo prompt below

This time I have gone way about the word limit. My apologies in advance !

Last couple of weeks haven’t been able to check many of the stories. This week I hope to do better.

Copyright – Danny Bowman

“What is this grandpa?” asked Timber Pluto pointing to the picture in his Universe history book

“It’s what humans call a phone. They use it to talk to each other. ”

“They don’t have 3D image conferencing ?”

“No, their race is in a primitive state. During the cold war era we camouflaged some our teleportation devices as payphones to send spies”

“To conquer earthlings ?”

“Sheesh why would we want to do that? Don’t we have enough problems of our own? We sent them to get the secret formula of this liquid they call – alcohol”

“What for?”

“Ahh.. emm.. I shouldn’t have told you this. It’s classified”

“Grandpaaaa..aa.aa!!!”

“Okayyyy.. Supposedly it can transport the consumer to another universe”

“So did we get the formula?”

“Nope. Those spies after tasting alcohol decided to stay back on earth and destroyed all our teleportation devices. Enough of all this, just study what’s in the school books.. that’s enough”

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Fence

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 (word limit is not rigid) word story based on a photo prompt.

My story follows the photo prompt below

Copyright – Sarah Ann Hall

 Fence

 Their family migrated during the war-torn, drought times. They stood side by side, picked up plows and tilled the land hoping against hope. The winds changed, war got over, the barren land turned green and filled greed in their hearts. The brothers now stood against each other, picked up arms and erected fences to demarcate boundaries.

Seasons flew by, they prayed for rains only on their side of the fence. Their hearts filled with envy to see the lush green on the other side of the fence. Winter fetched them away. They now lay together, side by side, beneath the earth.

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As I wrote this, I remembered Rabindranath Tagore’s poem which I am sharing below

Where the mind is without fear and the head held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by Thee into ever-widening thought and action;
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

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In vino veritas…or not

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 (word limit is not rigid) word story based on a photo prompt.

My story follows the photo prompt below

Copyright-Ted Strutz

‘In vino veritas…or not’

“You know how I got this scar”

“Nope” replied the bar tender

“People were scared to enter the Elephanta cave at the far end. I went in there and guess what? This bloody hundred-eyed black monster attacked me. I ran out and this demon with a big tail bites my hand. Well I gave it a good punch” he roared raising his glass of vodka “Finally this big foot runs towards me with his big club…”

“Honey you had one too many. There were bats in the cave, a monkey bit your hand and the security guard with his big stick shooed the monkey away. Now let’s go home”

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This story is inspired from my visit to the Elephanta caves. These are sculpted caves situated on Elephanta island and have been designated as UNESCO World Heritage Site. Of course the story is a fiction! There are no bats in the caves. There are monkeys around but they don’t trouble anybody unless one becomes adventurous and tries to feed or tease them ! There are security guards to help people around . I enjoyed my trip to these caves. Interested to know more about the caves ? Check the link -> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elephanta_Caves

I am on a vacation this week and might take time to get back on comments or checking other stories

To submit your entry or check other Friday Fictioneers’ stories click the blue toad below

The Haunted Mansion

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 (word limit is not rigid) word story based on a photo prompt.

My story follows the photo prompt below

Copyright -Kent Bonham

Genre: Fiction

The Haunted Mansion

 He inherited the mansion, its surrounding estates and riches. Yet had none to assuage his lonely heart.

The thought of jumping off the mansion occurred to him quite often. Many a time he climbed to its roof but vertigo got the better of his intention as he neared the ledge.

A split second before he drifted away, he saw the tall mansion rise before him and smiled at having tricked his nemesis. As simple as falling in bed on one’s back.

Aila screamed “Master has fallen down call the ambulance”

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** I am not sure if the story comes out clearly so adding a bit of an explanation
Nemesis here refers to his vertigo problem. He avoids it by jumping off the ledge backwards i.e. like falling into bed on one’s back, so as to avoid looking down from the top of the mansion and trigger a vertigo incident. Bit of a stretch on the imagination possibly?

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Revelation

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 (word limit is not rigid) word story based on a photo prompt.

Copyright-Claire Fuller

Revelation

Staring at his laptop screen he wondered, if it was worth attempting his own novel? Names known and unknown, belonging to varied genres filled his bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. Intimidated by the prospect of matching the sheer brilliance of successful authors, waves of questions arose in his mind. Whom shall he write like? Was he good enough? Increasingly he felt restless, each passing fraction of a second seemed like eternity. He took a deep breath, in that instant it dawned on him. “Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.”*

 

*“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” – Oscar Wilde

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Lady, Hunter, Tiger !

“Ladyyy, Hunterrrr… Tigerrrrr!”. I woke up to the scream, realizing it was a small girl who had just climbed into the bus. Her mom was definitely not amused, her eyes swelled to twice its eyes signalling to her daughter to keep it low. A few minutes passed by in silence and my eye lids drooped. “Ladyyy, Hunterrrr.. Tigerrr” roared the little girl again jolting me out of my slumber! This time another kid had hopped into the bus. Both the kids hit it off like a bus on fire and let run a riot. Amid giggles and laughter the kids shouted and roared lady, hunter, tiger ! The bus was mostly empty and those on the bus didn’t mind the racket. Everybody had a curious look on their face trying to figure out what the two little girls were up to.

After keen observation , I figured it to be a new variation of rock-paper-scissors. A ladyyy was signified by crossing hands across the chest (still not able to figure out the symbolism here), a hunterrrr by shaping a pistol out of the palm while the tiger by shaping both the palms like a claw and raising them above the shoulders, in level with the ears while the face expressing a growl! The kids would scream lady, hunter, tiger and pick one of the 3 characters and depending on the choice each made the stronger of the two characters would win the round. The irony of this arrangement meant that the might beast would devour the lady in a jiffy, but against the hunter’s pistol it stood no chance. While the hunter would be overwhelmed by the lady’s charm!

The kids strangers a while ago, oblivious to the surroundings, lost in their own happy world, roared out in laughter as I stepped out of the bus. A simple ladyy, hunterrr and tigerrr was enough to strike the bond of friendship. Makes we wonder why the adults can’t get along as well ?

Committee Report

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 (word limit is not rigid) word story based on a photo prompt.

I have exceeded the word limit for this story by a bit. Your comments/suggestions/critiques are welcome !

copyright-Janet Webb

Genre: Part Fiction, Part Reality !

To,

The Honorable President
Global Wasp Community

             The department inquiry into yesterday’s incident revealed that a boy without provocation, attacked the nest by pelting stones. To protect the nest, flying officer Shelder  stung the boy lightly. Later in retaliation, a human fumed the colony, leading to its annihilation.

               Other wasp colonies have reported explosions triggered by humans to injure and kill fellow human beings. Even the wild beast in the animal kingdom doesn’t attack unless provoked, much less kill its own kind. This has led the Department to conclude that “Humans are savages”. Any attempt to establish and improve bilateral ties with them, shall, in the view of the department be a futile exercise.

Yours Faithfully,
Head of Dept. For Human Behavior Study
Wasp Centre

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