THE GAME

 

2014-12-15-bw-beacham--Chess board and pieces

This is my contribution to Monday’s Finish the Story for this week. Every Monday a new picture prompt is given along with the first sentence to be used for the story. The story is to be written with only 100-150 additional words. I’ve bolded the first sentence given with the picture prompt. The challenge is hosted by Barbara Beacham and the prompt has been supplied by her. The link to read all the other stories is as follows:

http://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/2014/12/15/mondays-finish-the-story-december-15th-2014/

Word Count: 150 + 11

THE GAME By P.S. Joshi

“They say that life is a game of chess…”

Every Sunday Ralph Damund went to the Canfield Home For the Elderly to play chess with one of the men guests.

Today he was playing with a man who called himself Chris. He was a big man with a snowy beard and full head of hair to match. Friendly, with a great sense of humor, he seemed more interested in Ralph than the game.

“It’s almost Christmas son,” Chris said. “What is it you want more than anything else?”

Ralph hung his head. “Heck I just lost my job at the garage, and I’ve been helping out my parents and little brother. I just want food and something for the kid. Might be a sad Christmas.”

Chris smiled. “You might be surprised.”

Ralph thought to himself, “Easy for him to say.”

That evening Ralph got a call from his old boss. He wanted Ralph to come back.

Symbol for Monday's Finish the Story

WITNESS

Water and swimmer

This is my contribution to Mondays Finish the Story for this week. Every Monday a new picture prompt is given along with the first sentence to be used for the story. The story is to be written with only 100-150 additional words. I’ve bolded the first sentence given with the picture prompt.The link to read all the other stories is as follows:

http://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/2014/12/08/mondays-finish-the-story-december-8th-2014/

WITNESS By P.S. Joshi

Donning her fins and snorkel, she headed out into the deep water.

The bright sun was almost blinding, but shielding her eyes with one hand, she spotted the the coastguard vessel in the distance. Now all she had to do was wait to be picked up.

The vessel reached her, and she spotted the ladder. Taking off her fins and snorkel and throwing them aside, she climbed on-board.

Agent Davidson of the FBI greeted her. “Glad you made it Sandra. I understand you’re willing to testify. Have you had any warnings?”

Sandra, now dripping and suddenly shaking from the strain, said, “Yes, I had a call last night from a man only identifying himself as a friend. He warned me to keep quiet about what I saw.”

Davidson studied her face carefully. “Do you now intend to tell us everything? We’ll relocate you using the Witness Protection program.”

One of the Coast Guard members handed her a towel.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

DISAPPEARED

 

Debris on river banks.

Copyright–Sandra Crook

Well, here we are this week, gathered in a virtual cabin beside a stream in the woods. It would be even prettier if it hadn’t flooded recently, washing debris up onto the shores. It’s peaceful though. We’re here to discuss our original stories for Friday Fictioneers. Our gracious and talented hostess for this gathering is author and artist, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The weekly challenge for this group is to write a story with no more than 100 words. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt for the week. This week’s prompt was supplied by Sandra Crook. Thanks again Sandra.

The link for all other stories is as follows:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/12/10/12-december-2014/

Genre:  Realistic Fiction

Word Count:  100 Words

DISAPPEARED By P.S. Joshi

Luke hadn’t contacted a family member in ages. He was a drinker– had been for years.

After his wife died in the car accident, he lost his will to live.

Sixty and let go from his job when the company downsized, crying inside, he felt like human refuse.

He’d sold the house, but bills and booze ate up the money.  Sleeping in his car, he ached from the bone-chilling cold. His fingers felt numb.

Christmas was coming and he was now freezing and lonely. Should he call his only sister?

He did. He heard the words, “Come home to us Luke.”

friday-fictioneers

…Author’s Christmas sales?… ANY day’s sales are a gift!…

Good gifts for the holidays.

Seumas Gallacher

…there seems to be no end of hyper-activity on the internet promotional channels for Authors and their ‘people’ pushing for ‘Christmas sales’ of their masterpieces… I grant yeez that books do make great presents, not just during the Christmas Season and Birthdays, but at any time… and having been plying my own stuff for the last few years on the Great God Amazon eBooks gig, I did the same thing in the first coupla years… and d’yeez know what?… there was no discernible difference from the norm in sales/drawdowns … don’t get me wrong… there’s never a badtime to market yer literary wares… all yeez Lads and Lassies of Blog Land who honour me by following this blog will be aware that I do it all the time (nicely, I hope)… but the advent of the Big-Woolly-White-Bearded-Lad-In-The-Red-Tunic-With-The-Reindeer-Huskies Day has not yet been a force in my promo campaigns…

santa

…the gift…

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Free Children’s Book: Runaway Smile

Cute story that children will love. It’s a new book by Nicholas C. Rossis.

Nicholas C. Rossis

I woke up this morning and I had lost my smile and it wasn’t my fault and I looked everywhere and it was gone. Then I met a workman and a king and the best salesman in the world and a clown and no-one wanted to give me theirs. At school, I asked Miss to give me hers, but she gave us a pop quiz instead, and then no-one was smiling and…

From the blog of Nicholas C. Rossis, author of science fiction, the Pearseus epic fantasy series and children's books

A little boy wakes up in the morning and realizes he has lost his smile. After spending the entire day trying to find it, he learns the truth behind smiles: the only real smiles are the shared ones.

Runaway Smile is my first children’s book and it is finally here, after two long years of preparation! Just for the wonderful people following me on my blog, I have posted it online, where you can read it for free! If you enjoy it, feel…

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Thank you, minions

Thanks Adam for advertizing my blog. 🙂

Adam Ickes

In the wake of my newest release, WICKED LITTLE THINGS, I’d like to give special thanks to those who helped me spread the word. You should follow their blogs, twitters, and facebook thingymagiggies because every one of them is totally awesome in every way imaginable.

In no particular order, thanks go out to:

Charles Yallowitz is a fantasy writer with big ambitions and a heart of gold. For a good time check out his Legends of Windemere series of books. That wasn’t meant to sound like it was written on a bathroom wall, but you can’t win them all, right? No, seriously. Read his books or I’m going to send Corkscrew after you. You don’t want that. Trust me. You may remember good ol’ Corckscrew if you read the first volume of 100 Tiny Tales of Terror.

Latashia Figueroa is a fellow horror junkie and author of This Way…

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KEEPSAKES

 

Dried flowers

Copyright — Janet Webb

Here we are, gathered this week in a small virtual cafe across the street from an old, empty house with a neglected flower garden. We’re here to discuss our original stories for Friday Fictioneers. Our talented and gracious hostess for this gathering is author and artist Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The weekly challenge for this group is to write a story with no more than 100 words. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt for the week. This week’s prompt was supplied by Janet Webb. Thanks Janet.

I didn’t get to read all last week’s stories I intended to and am later than usual with my story this week. I had a problem with both my cable and pen drive providers. I found myself without internet access for about two days.

The link for all other stories is as follows:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/12/03/5-december-2014/

Genre:  Realistic Fiction

Word Count:  100 Words

KEEPSAKES By P.S. Joshi

Betty Miller worked for Mom and Mom’s parents for years. Now she works for my husband and me. After Mom died, I asked her to help me clean the attic.

There, in a dusty corner, we found dried flowers and a box of letters with a newspaper clipping, a yellowed obit of a soldier killed in the Vietnam War.

“The flowers and letters were from Will Blakely, your Mom’s first boyfriend,” Betty told me. They were to be married when he got back from Vietnam. He was to return in two weeks. When he did, it was in a coffin.

friday-fictioneers

…Lockie Young… a superb lesson in coming to terms with losing a limb… the man keeps on smiling…

We can all learn from this. Lockie Young’s description is so thorough.

Seumas Gallacher

…one of my great scribbling pals is Lockie Young… not only does he pen extremely well, but he also has a lesson for me, and I suspect for more than a few of the rest of we Lads and Lassies of Blog Land… an indomitable spirit, and a deadpan sense of humour to match… read on…Lockie-Head-Shotfix

LOCKIE YOUNG

As I look at the blinking cursor on the screen of my monitor, I adjust my new to me office chair so it is just so. My right leg, with the prosthetic on it, is stretched out in front of me under the desk because I still can’t sit with it at right angles to the seat. My thigh is too fat to allow this once normal and seldom thought of position, due to the extra fifty pounds of weight I put on while I was flat on my back in…

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