REMAINS

 

mystery-chair-ted-strutz

Photo Copyright: Ted Strutz

NOTE: My contest-winning short story was published this month in CQ Magazine. However, they’ve begun charging for subscriptions. I won’t ask anyone to buy a copy. I’ll certainly understand if you don’t. If you want to, the link is as follows:

https://www.magzter.com/GB/CQ-International/CQ-International-Magazine/Art/

Here we all are gathered for another week. Today we’re along a country river where one chair is sitting for some reason. We’re here to discuss our original stories for the week. We’re the Friday Fictioneers group. Our hostess for this gathering is the talented and gracious author and artist, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge for each of us this week and every week is to write a story with no more than 100 words not including the title. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt for the week. This week’s prompt was provided by Ted Strutz. Thanks, Ted.

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

The link for this week’s stories is as follows:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2017/02/08/10-february-2017/

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

REMAINS By P.S.  Joshi

There’d been floods before in Illinois but never like this. When the Colters returned from the shelter they could hardly believe it.

Instead of the village of Martinsville there was a mud plain with skeletal remains of buildings leaning here and there. They drove out to their farm with dread.

The sight made them go into shock. The barn was on its side in the caked mud and the house was completely gone. All that remained was a lone kitchen chair.

The insurance company wouldn’t pay for rebuilding on the same location. Their home, hopes, and dreams were washed away.

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Written Act of Kindness Award

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TOO MUCH, BUT STILL NOT ENOUGH

Silo in a field

Copyright: Marie Gail Stratford

We’re here again this week, gathered today in a virtual field to discuss our original stories for the week. This is the Friday Fictioneers group. Our hostess for this gathering is the gracious and talented author and artist, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge for 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 Marie Gail Stratford. Thanks Marie Gail.

To read the other stories from 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/2015/05/13/15-may-2015/

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

TOO MUCH BUT, STILL NOT ENOUGH by P.S. Joshi

Frank Buford had rich land on his large farm. He was also greedy.

Every year the county took up a collection for the poor. He’d give a couple dollars so he could say he gave. Everyone knew what was happening. His silos and barns were full, and his wife was busy canning every year. He sold the rest.

One year he had a bumper harvest. He called in some workmen and commissioned them to build a couple more silos and another barn.

“I’ll make extra money.” he bragged.

After harvest, he died.

Only his wife came to the small funeral.

friday-fictioneers

anniversary-1x

purple-flowers-may-2013

Written  Act of Kindness Award

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Clock Near the Park by P.S. Joshi

clock

This is my story for February Storybook Corner hosted by Adam Ickes. It’s a monthly flash fiction challenge where a prompt is given to inspire a story  from 300 to 500 words in length based on the prompt. A new prompt is given the 21st of each month.

Link: http://adamickes.wordpress.com/2014/02/20/storybook-corner-prompt-february/

My parents and I live in the town of Franklyn, Indiana, in the downstairs apartment of an old building on Park Street. Nothing  exciting happens here, especially on this street. The most exciting things have been reports of a wolf on the edge of town where old man Travis’ land starts.

Bill Burke, the local handyman, swore he saw a small wolf but he tells a lot of fake stories, so few believe him. Some others have said they heard one howling, but most don’t believe that either.

It’s Wednesday, almost 10:20 AM, of a sweltering day in the middle of summer. The worst thing is our computer is broke. I’ve read all my books and it’s too hot to walk to the library.

I grabbed one of my comic books from a box in my room and plopped on the couch in front of the large living room window. Dad said we can’t afford air conditioning,  so I’m feeling the sweat run down my face and neck and soak into my T-shirt.

My best buddy, Sam, is with his family on a trip. I’m bored, bored, bored. It’s another month-and-a-half before school starts. At twelve, I’m too young to get a job; so here I sit. I stared out at the big black-rimmed clock on the black pole near the park. Nothing was there, so I glanced down at my comic and then back out the window. Now there was  a kid about my age standing near the clock pole.

I got up and moved to the front screen door, slowly unhooking it. I swung it open and went outside and down the steps to our walk.  Slowly, foot by foot, I came to the main sidewalk, then crossed the street.

I’d never seen this kid before. He was thin, pale and seemed real nervous.

“Hi,” I said. “You’re new in town ain’t ya?”

“Yeah. Me and my parents just moved here from near Selwich.”

He stood first on one foot, then the other.

“I gotta go home now. Mom and Dad don’t like me to wander very far from home.”

Then he ran off.

That evening at dinner, I told Dad about the new kid. He seemed to think for a while.

“Selwich?” he said. “That sounds familiar. Oh. I know. People spotted a wolf over near there too, just like here. They said it was kind of small and seemed wary of getting close to them. Where in the heck do you suppose a wolf came from? Maybe somebody had it as a pet and it got loose.

I felt a chill all of a sudden, even though it was still hot. I remembered something too. I went and got my comic book, The Mayfield Werewolf.