Wednesday 27 May 2015

The Sculpture - Friday Fictioneers






https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/05/27/29-may-2015/




The following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. What does it say to you? I dare you to look beyond the subject. I double dare you!



PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy





THE SCULPTURE

It’s finished at long last.  No more grinding noises, no more iron filings to sweep up, no more cut fingers and blisters to bathe, soothe and bandage.  

Luke asked me to close my eyes, no peeking he told me, as he led me out to the back yard.  He positioned me where he wanted me, stood back ready with a camera to catch my instant reaction.  

“Open your eyes mum.”

To be honest it wasn't what I was expecting.  I had to marshal my facial features into a false but loving smile.  

‘Well done, son.  You are very talented.”  

Word count: 99

Tuesday 26 May 2015

MEMORIES - Monday's Finish The Story



Mondays Finish the Story – May 25th, 2015



This is a unique flash fiction challenge where you are provided with photo and the first sentence of a story. Your challenge is to finish the story using 100-150 words, not including the sentence provided. Don’t forget to use the opening sentence…

 This challenge runs from Monday to Sunday! Get creative and have fun finishing the story!

Today a special thanks goes out to Nortina Mariela for helping me to chose a photo and subject!  You might be next!

Please include the photo with your bit of flash and a link back to this post. Do not forget to click on the blue guy and add your link so that others can enjoy your story too! Now let’s have some fun!



© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham 

MEMORIES

“The only residents remaining in the small town of Miners Hill are spirits.”

Little Nanny Davis told her granddaughter when she went to visit the old nonagenarian in the home she now lived in.  Kathryn nodded in agreement.  It was a story Hetty told her every time over a slice of homemade Victoria sponge that the staff at Mulberry House always made for the weekend visitors.

When Hetty was a child herself her parents had owned the town’s only hotel and had done very well for themselves.  Hetty and her husband, Fred, had taken over when they retired but their own children had moved on to better careers in larger towns and become successful corporate men and women, with only a lingering memory of what was once their  home.

The framed picture Kathryn had found in the archives took pride of place on the top of the small chest of drawers in Hetty’s bedroom, stimulating her memories of a past long gone. 

Word count: 149