THE FLIGHT HOME

 

view-from-the-plane

Copyright — Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 Once again we have a chance to show our creativity by writing a story for the Friday Fictioneers’ weekly challenge. This challenge is to write a story with no more than 100 words. It’s to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt supplied for that week. The gracious and talented hostess for the challenge is author and artist Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The prompt this week is also supplied by her. Thanks Rochelle.

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/07/30/1-august-2014/

Genre:  Nonfiction

Word Count:  100 Words

THE FLIGHT HOME by P.S. Joshi

It was the summer I turned twelve. My brother, on a road trip, stopped in Ohio. He decided to take Mom and me back with him to California, a five-day trip stopping nights.

It rained a lot that summer, leaving Dad with a garden full of vegetables to give away.

After a long visit, Mom decided we’d fly back to Ohio. It took eight hours in those days.

Dad came to pick us up at the airport, and was extremely relieved we returned safely. He said, “All I could think about was a thin floor and that long way down.

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THE RUINS IN THE WOODS

 

Fireplace & Chimney

Copyright — Adam Ickes

This is my July story for Storybook Corner hosted by Adam Ickes. Each story is supposed to be from 300 to 500 words in length, or longer if thought necessary, and be inspired by the photo prompt supplied that month by Adam. My story this month refused to be contained to 500 words.

http://adamickes.wordpress.com/2014/07/21/storybook-corner-prompt-july/

Genre:  Horror Fiction

Word Count:  794 Words

THE RUINS IN THE WOODS By P.S. Joshi

Brad Wilcox saw his pal Jeff in the camping department of the large chain store in the Briggstown Mall. “Hey Jeff, how’re you doin’?” he called.

Jeff moved closer, checking all other shoppers to see if any were near enough to overhear. “Brad have you ever gone huntin’ near the old Crawford place; the one that burned down about twenty years ago leaving just the fireplace and chimney?”

Brad now noticed Jeff had a look that brought back memories of guys on patrol in Iraq.

“Jeff, what’s the matter? What happened?”

Jeff shifted from one foot to the other, “You’re not goin’ to believe me. You won’t…you’ll never believe me.” He started to breathe heavier. “I was out there huntin’ rabbits and thought I saw somethin’ move near that ruin. You know how careful I am with a gun. I make damn sure it’s game.’

Brad shook his head in agreement. He took hold of Jeff’s shoulder. “Dude, let’s go to the mall cafe and talk over hot coffee. Come on, you’ll be okay.”

Ten minutes later they sat drinking coffee and Jeff had stopped trembling. Brad leaned closer. “Okay Jeff what happened next?”

Jeff took a deep breath. “Brad I swear this is true. I went closer and saw what seemed to be a man.”

Brad looked puzzled.  “Seemed to be; what do you mean?”

Jeff lowered his voice and checked for listeners. “He had the normal body parts, but his skin looked shrivelled and raw. The little clothin’ on him looked like it had mostly been burned away. He had no hair, and the face, the face…. Half of his face on one side looked burned away. His remainin’ eye was lookin’ right at me.

He started toward me and, I swear Brad it was real strange. His feet were on the ground, but the leaves he was steppin’ on never moved or sank under his weight. I’ve seen guys burned in Iraq that looked like that, but they were dead. I know it sounds crazy, but Brad I think he was dead. I froze at first then started runnin’. I didn’t stop until I reached the edge of town and saw other people. Damn Brad. I haven’t been that scared since Iraq.”

Brad knew Jeff wasn’t a liar and had no mental problems. He decided  to go and see the town sheriff to discuss it with him.

The next day it was storming, blowing so hard the rain beat down sideways, but Bud was determined. He entered Cal Doud’s office about 10 AM. Cal was sitting at his desk with a stack of paperwork in front of him. He looked up and smiled as Brad walked in.

“Hi Brad, what’s goin on with you? You look worried.”

“Cal I’ve got somethin’ to tell you and I’m sure it’s true. You know Jeff Bradshaw well enough to know he doesn’t lie or exagerate. I had a long talk with him yesterday.” He started to repeat what Jeff had told him.

Cal listened a bit then sent his deputy out for coffee. He told Brad to continue. When Brad was finished, Cal said, ” I’m goin’ to tell you somethin’ that happened when the old Crawford place burned down all those years ago. Several of us checked for bodies, but the only remains we found were those of the owner, Ralph Crawford. You know he was a mean cuss and had been there alone for years after his parents died and his wife left him, takin’ the two kids. You remember he’d been drinkin’ hard for a long time. We figured he’d passed out that day and his lit cigarette had set the bed on fire. I doubt he ever knew what happened. The body looked exactly like what Jeff described to you, but Jeff wasn’t there. He couldn’t have seen the body at any time.

We waited for the autopsy, and then gave the funeral director the job of arrangin’ a buriel. The Baptist church  took up a collection to pay the funeral expenses and to buy a headstone. They let him be buried in the church cemetary too since the Crawford family had once belonged to the congregation and donated land for the buildin’. You can go and see the grave for yourself. Ralph’s widow inherited the land, but a lot of taxes were unpaid, so it came back to the town.

Don’t repeat what you heard and we’ll put up a high chain link fence and No Trespassing signs all around the land.

Brad told Jeff what the sheriff had said and the secret was kept. There were no more sightings of the ghost. At least none that anyone would admit to

ogre-castle-words

DAD AND TEX

 

chopsticks

Copyright — Marie Gail Stratford

Here we are again to show our creativity by writing a new story for the Friday Fictioneers’ weekly challenge. This challenge is to write a story with no more than 100 words. It’s to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt supplied for that week. The gracious hostess for this challenge is the multi-talented author and artist Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The prompt this week is a photo supplied by Marie Gail Stratford. Thanks Marie Gail.

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/07/23/25-july-2014/

Genre:  Nonfiction

Word Count: 100 Words

DAD AND TEX  By P.S. Joshi

Dad was an armchair cowboy: western books, movies, TV shows. We never missed a big western movie.

Dad hadn’t been to a stage show for years. I went to an occasional country and western stage show at the civic theatre in the city. I found out the stars ate at a nearby Chinese restaurant. One evening I took my parents to a show.

One of the performers that evening was big American movie, TV, stage, and singing star Tex Ritter. By chance, he sat near us in the restaurant. Dad was thrilled and kept turning around to look at Tex.

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UNCLE BARNEY’S VALUABLES

 

copyright-adam-ickes (1)

Copyright — Adam Ickes

Once again it’s time for us to show our creativity and write a new story for the Friday Fictioneers’ weekly challenge. This challenge is to write a story with no more than 100 words. It’s to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt supplied for that week. The gracious and talented hostess for this challenge is author and artist Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The prompt this week is a photo supplied by Adam Ickes. Thanks Adam.

Some weeks ago, I wrote a story about a couple of men, Dave and his grandson Will. They were visiting Dave’s college campus. Today’s story is about the same two fellows. If you want to read the first story, the link is the first one below:

https://patriciaruthsusan.wordpress.com/2014/05/30/the-campus-visit/

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/07/16/18-july-2014/

Genre:  Fiction/Human Interest

Word Count: 100 Words

 UNCLE BARNEY’S VALUABLES By P.S. Joshi

Dave felt grateful. His Uncle Barney’s will was read and he’d inherited Barney’s attic contents.

“Will,” he said to his grandson, “Uncle Barney always said he’d leave me valuable things when he died.”

The two got the house keys from Barney’s daughter, who’d inherited the house, and drove to check the attic.

Opening the attic door, they discovered boxes of old files and a stuffed ram’s head. Dave’s heart sank. He whispered, “I thought he loved me.”

Will put his arms round Dave’s shoulders. “Grandpa,” he said gently, “don’t you see? These things were valuable to him.”

Dave finally smiled

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Crime and Science Radio: The Skeleton Crew: A Conversation with Deborah Halber

Anyone interested in writing stories and/or books in the Mystery, Suspense, Horror or Thriller genres will find this a helpful blog.

The Crime Fiction Writer's Forensics Blog

CSR 300x250-72dpi

The Skeleton Crew: A Conversation with Deborah Halber on the Amateurs Who Are Finding the Missing and Solving Cold Cases

For decades, all across the United States, tens of thousands of missing persons cases have grown cold. At the same time, a mounting number of unidentified remains have been discovered and have been stored in coroner’s offices or buried in potter’s fields. But the Internet has been changing all of that. We talk to Deborah Halber, about some of the challenges and changes in the world of the unidentified dead and those who try to name them.

BIO: Deborah Halber started out as a daily newspaper reporter, then turned to the dark side to do public relations. She worked as a writer and editor for Tufts and as a science writer for MIT, where she chronicled everything from quantum weirdness (that’s the technical term) to snail slime. A freelance journalist since 2004, her writing…

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BLIZZARD

 

roiling-cloud-1

Copyright — Kelly Sands

Once again it’s time for us to show our creativity and write a new story for the Friday Fictioneers’ weekly challenge. This challenge is to write a story with no more than 100 words. It’s to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt supplied for that week. The gracious hostess for this challenge is the talented author and artist Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The prompt for this week is a photo supplied by Kelly Sands. Thanks Kelly.

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/07/09/11-july-2014/

Genre:  Nonfiction

Word Count:  100 Words

BLIZZARD by P.S. Joshi

Well into the winter of 1977-78, we were living in an apartment in northeast Ohio. Our son was about 1 1/2 and I was 8 months pregnant with our daughter.

The local radio station gave a blizzard warning. It was so quiet outside you could hear yourself breathe. It seemed human movement in the city had stopped.

Then it began. It snowed and snowed and snowed. Soon there was news of shelter for people in areas lacking electricity. Calls came in from farmers without electricy and with cows to be milked. Were there generators available?

Fortunately, we didn’t lose electricity.

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THE KING THAT WASN’T

 

claire-fuller-3

Copyright — Claire Fuller

Once again it’s time for the new Friday Fictioneers’ weekly story challenge. This weekly challenge is to write a story with no more than 100 words. It’s to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt supplied for that week. The gracious hostess for this challenge is the talented author and artist Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The prompt this week is a photo supplied by Claire Fuller. Thanks Claire.

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/07/02/4-july-2014/

Genre:  Humor/Fiction

Word Count:  100 Words

THE KING THAT WASN’T by P.S. Joshi

A tourist in the old capital of a small former kingdom in the country of Perdion happily snapped photos of a 13th century statue.

An elderly citizen stopped and remarked, “Good statue isn’t it.”

The tourist asked, “Was he a good king? The plaque reads ‘King Dragon VI’, but not more.”

The old man thought for several moments. “You could say so as he didn’t exist. King Dragon V died without any heirs and none of the eligible family members wanted the job. They wisely made up a king so surrounding kingdoms would leave them alone. A very useful king.

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Nurture Yourself – with Love and Compassion

I think this is great.

Inside the Mind of Isadora


The greatest degree of inner tranquility comes from the development of love and compassion. The more we care for the happiness of others, the greater is our sense of well-being.
Tenzin Gyatso-the 3rd Dalai Lama

ANGEL - Purple FlowersWhat is compassion?

It’s a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering. info marion dictionary

From birth, we are part of a community called family. The bond is our connection to security and survival. There are situations where our biological family does not serve that well. We become the sufferers due to horrific acts such as child abuse and abandonment. The lack of love and compassion leaves us lost. It heightens stress because we feel loneliness and isolation. Our ability to be compassionate to others fails as we have no guideline. Sometimes, the compassion comes from somewhere else such…

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