NOT CAREFUL WHAT HE WISHED FOR

 

Photo Copyright: Sally-Ann Hodgekiss

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction–May 14th, 2017. Each week the host, Al Forbes, provides a picture prompt taken by him or donated by one of the participants in the group of writers. The challenge for each member of the group is to write an original story or poem with no more than 200 words, not including the title and inspired by the prompt. This week’s prompt was donated by Sally-Ann Hodgekiss. Thanks, Sally-Ann.

To read the other stories written by group members, just click on the link below, then on the little blue frog in the blue box.

The link to the other stories this week is as follows:

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/05/14/sunday-photo-fiction-may-14th-2017/

Genre: Fantasy Fiction

Word Count: 200 Words

NOT CAREFUL WHAT HE WISHED FOR by P.S. Joshi

In Rome in the Middle Ages a man named Rodolfo lived in the heart of the city not far from a large fountain. He was a powerfully-built man, proud of his muscles.

One hot day an old bent peddler pulled his cart down Rodolfo’s street. Noticing the well-built young man he stopped in front of him.

“Signor,” he whispered, leaning close, “I have something you might like.”

He reached under a cloth in the middle of the cart and pulled out a brass lamp. It needed polishing but was in perfect condition despite its ancient appearance.

Rodolfo studied it and decided he must have it.

“How much do you want for it old man? I’ve just finished carving some furniture for a client and may be able to afford it if you don’t overcharge.”

They haggled and Rodolfo paid.

As the old man hobbled off he said, “It’ll grant wishes but be careful what you ask for.”

Rodolfo just laughed. “You’re crazy old man.”

He took his purchase inside and started to clean it. In jest he said to the lamp, “I want to be famous in all Rome.”

The next morning there was a new figure on the fountain.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FOLLOWING THE PATH

 

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Photo Copyright: Al Forbes

May the love and peace of this holiday season, wherever it can be found, fill all people everywhere.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction–December 18th, 2016. Each week the host, Al Forbes, provides a picture prompt. The challenge for each member of the group is to write an original story or poem with no more than 200 words, not counting the title and inspired by the prompt.

To read the other stories written by group members, just click on the link below, then on the little blue frog in the blue box.

The link to the other stories this week is as follows:

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2016/12/18/sunday-photo-fiction-december-18th-2016/

Genre: Human Interest Fiction

Word Count: 198 Words

FOLLOWING THE PATH by P.S. Joshi

The Buddhist monk entered the ancient temple on the high mountain and knelt in front of the large statue of the Buddha.

The monastery temple was cold but his mind was elsewhere. He followed Lamrim, the stages of the path to enlightenment.  Fingering his wooden prayer beads, he murmured the chant of meditation.

He meditated on his past life much of which had been in the monastery. His mother was poor and had brought him here as a child.

The other monks gradually came and knelt, each following his own path. Some had come as little more than children and others when older. It was hard to tell age. Their heads were shaved and they all wore similar attire, a sea of orange.

Incense was lit, the smoke winding its way upward. All hoped their souls would become part of the eternal whole.

This was the scene that greeted the weary traveler as he entered and knelt with them. He wasn’t a Buddhist, but also searched for enlightenment.

His life had been a search for true love but it had evaded him. Great wealth was his but no peace. Sadly, neither could be bought. He’d tried.

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Written Act of Kindness Award

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TIME IS A CIRCLE

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Photo Copyright: Ted Strutz

Here we are once again. This week we’re gathered in a virtual park near a virtual carousel. Our hostess for this gathering is the gracious, talented, and newly retired from her day job (congratualtions, Rochelle), author and artist, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields; who can now devote her time to the work she loves. We are the Friday Fictioneers. The challenge for our group each week is to write an original story with no more than 100 words. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt provided for the week. This week’s prompt was provided by Ted Strutz. Thanks, Ted.

To read the other stories from group members, just click on the link given below, then on the little blue frog in the blue box. The link for the other stories this week is as follows:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/10/07/2-october-2015/

Genre: Speculative Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

TIME IS A CIRCLE by P.S. Joshi

I always thought of a carousel as a bright and lovely ride that children enjoy. Now I’m old, I’ve found there was a special one I should never have gone near.

A wizened woman stood near the vacated carousel looking ancient and harmless.

My boyfriend, George, urged me to ride.

“Go ahead,” he said, “there’s only money for one of us, and you know you want to. You love carousels.”

“Remember,” she said, after stepping forward, “time is a circle.”

When the ride stopped, and I climbed slowly off the white unicorn at age sixty, I understood what she meant.

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HYDRANGEA’S TRANSPORT

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Photo Copyright: Barbara W. Beacham

This is my contribution for this week to Monday’s Finish the Story, hosted by Barbara W. Beacham. Every Monday, Barbara supplies a new picture prompt along with the first sentence for the story. The original story to be written should have only 100 to 150 additional words. I’ve bolded the first sentence given with the picture prompt.

This week, the first sentence was contributed by one of the writers, Martin Furman. A big, “Thanks,” to both Barbara and Martin this week.

Be sure to click on the little blue frog in the blue box, after clicking on the link, to read the other stories. The link for all other stories this week is as follows:

https://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/2015/07/13/mondays-finish-the-story-july-13th-2015/

Genre: Humor Fiction

Word Count: 2+26+150=178 Words

HYDRANGEA’S TRANSPORT by P.S. Joshi

“Delphin always wanted to pilot her father’s plane and when he forgot his keys on her tenth birthday, she knew that taking off would be easy.”

Hydrangea read from her granddaughter, Orchid’s, book.

“Oh pooh, I can teach Orchid how to travel in classier style,” she thought.  “After all, I’m a sorceress.”

She scooted to the basement and started to root through cartons.

“Ah, found it,” she shouted. She tugged and mothballs flew into the air. Out came an ancient, threadbare rug with some fringe missing.

“I better take it for a brief test drive,” she thought.

Taking it to the backyard, she sat in the middle of the rug. Her cat, Patience, joined her.

Out came her wand. She waved it in the air and shouted, “Airbournicus.” The old rug shuddered and rose into the air.

“Fly east by northeast,” she shouted.

“You don’t need to shout, you know,” said the rug in proud disgust.

“The man who sold you to me didn’t say you could talk,” said Hydrangea.

“Never mind, just ride,” said the rug.

Symbol for Monday's Finish the Story

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DEEP IN THE LOCH

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Copyright: Douglas M. Macilroy

Here we are for another week. Today we’re gathered on a virtual shore of Loch Ness. We’re here to discuss our original stories for the week. This is the Friday Fictioneer’s group. Our hostess is the talented and gracious author and artist Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge for each of us 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 Douglas M. Macilroy. Thanks again, Doug.

To read the other stories from the group members, just click on the  little blue frog in the blue box after clicking on the link. The link for the other stories is as follows:

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

I just want to add two more notes.

First, those of you who are interested in reading more about the monsoon will probably enjoy the book, CHASING THE MONSOON by Alexander Frater. I saw it’s on Amazon. I enjoyed the book when I read it some years ago.

Second, please be patient with me if I don’t get to your comments right away. I’ve been having trouble with both my computer and the internet here. The two problems could very well be tied together.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

DEEP IN THE LOCH by P.S. Joshi

Nessie rested on the cold loch floor. It was almost time for her daily swim. She was one of an ancient line of her kind.

Her real name was Plesi, short for plesiosaur. There remained ten of them, five males and five females. They lived in underwater caves.

Their ancestors came to Loch Ness millions of years before when there was a channel from the sea. It later closed, trapping them.

“You got your camera ready, Frank?” Matt whispered.

“Yeah. Do ya think one’ll show up tonight?” Frank answered.

“I sure hope so,” Matt mumbled. “This makes two years for me.” .

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THE QUILL

 

antique-desk

Copyright:  Jan Wayne Fields

 

Here we are once more to show our creativity. Once again we’re asked to compose original stories for the Friday Fictioneers’ weekly challenge. This challenge is to write a story with no more than 100 words. It’s supposed to include a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt supplied for the week. The gracious and talented author and artist, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the host for the challenge. The prompt this week was supplied by Rochelle’s husband. Jan Wayne Fields. Thanks Jan.

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/08/13/15-august-2014/

Genre:  Horror Fiction

Word Count:  100 Words

THE QUILL By P.S. Joshi

People laughed at Connie still writing with a quill. She’d found it in the drawer of her great-great grandfather’s desk, behind a secret panel. It still looked brand new despite its age.

Connie had heard numerous rumors about this ancestor, all  unpleasant.  People had feared him in his lifetime. No one now knew  why, but the fear had spread. One faithful servant was paid well to keep secrets.

People often saw the ancestor by a window, happily writing.

Connie sat and took out ancient, yellowed parchment she’d found and began to write.

“Who dies now?” the quill wrote in blood.

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