The Empty Lot

 

Photo Copyright: Dale Rogerson

Here we are again and this week we’re gathered on an empty activity field. We’ve come together to discuss our original stories for the week. This is the Friday Fictioneer’s group. Our hostess for the 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 counting the title. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and be inspired by the picture prompt for the week. This week’s prompt was provided by Dale Rogerson. Thanks, Dale. To read the other stories by group members, just click on the link below, then on the smiling frog. Next, follow the given direction.

4 October 2019

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100 Words

The Empty Lot by P.S. Joshi

 

I had a vacation coming, so decided to take a trip back and see the old neighborhood where I was born.

The house looked much the same with a few changes to the front porch and yard. The neighborhood arrangement, however, was very different.

After WWII, a bunch of small GI homes had been stuck in all available spaces.

The street past our house, no longer a dead-end, was now blacktopped and extended to meet the road below.
The empty lot for baseball down there was gone. An expressway cut through.

My memories were just that, not reality any longer.

AHEAD IN TIME

 

Photo Copyright: Al Forbes

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction-December 3rd, 2017. Each week the host, Al Forbes, provides a picture prompt taken by him or sent in 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 taken by Al Forbes himself. Thanks, Al.

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/2017/12/03/sunday-photo-fiction-december-3rd-2017/

Genre: Science Fiction

Word Count: 200 Words

AHEAD IN TIME by P.S. Joshi

Frank entered the room where he kept his greatest invention, the Time Regulator. It was an improvement on a time machine. He could land within a second of a minute at his chosen destination.

He’d often wanted to travel to the year 2080 and see how his neighborhood at the base of the Blackford Cliffs had fared.

He stepped into the small enclosure, sat, and prepared the indicator for Saturday, June 22, 2080, Blackford Village, U.K. He clicked on the start pad and felt the jerk of movement forward in time.

Rather than landing in the village, he was about five feet from the cliff. Only half the village remained. A few old people slowly came out of the houses.

One of the men limped forward and spoke.

“Sir, what is this you’ve landed in?”

“Don’t be afraid. I’ve come from the past to see what’s become of my old neighborhood at the base of the cliff.”

A woman then spoke.

“I’m sorry to tell you those houses are under the water. Some scientists come occasionally and dive to the site to study it. About fifteen years ago the water level increased to finally cover the roofs.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE OLD NEIGHBORHOOD

 

Photo Copyright:  J. Hardy Carroll

Here we are this week gathered near a building that’s being torn down. We’ve gathered to discuss our original stories for the week. This is the Friday Fictioneers group. Our hostess for the 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 counting 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 J. Hardy Carroll. Thanks, J. Hardy.

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/2017/05/24/26-may-2017/

Genre: Memoir Fiction

Word Count: 99 Words

THE OLD NEIGHBOORHOOD by P.S. Joshi

George remembers the old neighborhood.

“I was born above the grocery store owned by my parents. I sauntered the five blocks to and from school on weekdays and ran two blocks on Sunday afternoons to the park to play baseball with pals.

After homework, I assisted in the store. My parents never ate together as someone had to mind the downstairs counter. No doubt I’d take over and run things on my dad’s retirement.

But it wasn’t to be. My father retired when a contractor bought the property for a large office building and two square blocks became rubble.”

A NICE GUY

 

Photo Copyright: Roger Bultot

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

A Happy Holiday Season to all!

Here we are this week sitting together in a neon-lit diner. We’ve gathered in this cheery place to discuss our original stories for the week. This is the Friday Fictioneers group. Our hostess for the 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 Roger Bultot. Thanks, Roger.

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/2016/12/21/23-december-2016/

Genre: Nonfiction Memoir

Word Count: 100 Words

A NICE GUY by P.S. Joshi

After WWII, some of the returning military men opened diners. We had one such diner in our neighborhood in north Akron.

A man named Bill owned it. He was your typical “nice guy”. Everyone liked him.

It was also your typical diner food, lunch bar, and tables along the side with connections to the main jukebox. You chose the preferred song, put your coins in, and pressed the button.

My girlfriend and I, both six, bought ice cream cones one day. She dropped hers in the parking lot. When told by me, Bill smiled and replaced it.

THE CITY STREET

I’ve written this piece for the blog series by Teagan Geneviene about the senses. You can read her piece and find links to or pieces by other writers in the comments at the following link.

https://teagansbooks.wordpress.com/2016/02/06/mini-series-the-senses-smell/

A CITY STREET By P.S. Joshi

A combination of smells drifts to my nose. Apartment buildings rise on both sides as I stroll.

There are additions now required for urban life–window bars and fire escapes.

When I stop at one point, the early morning chemical smell of gasoline is noticeable. It’s leaked from older cars commuters here still cling to and drive to work.

This neighborhood is now home to Indian families. There are still some Italian families, but not as many as in former years. The remaining apartments contain a variety of renters.

Out of the Indian windows drifts the sweet odor of incense from each  morning puja. From the Italian windows drifts a different scent. It’s oregano mixed with fresh tomatoes and green peppers.

I walk a little further and pick up the stronger odor of putrid waste water rising from the manhole of a backed-up sewer. The city workers will soon arrive.

A recent downpour brought the not-unpleasant odor of wet blacktop.

The morning sun beats down on the corner. There it’s the smell of hot blacktop, also not unpleasant. A city nose becomes accustomed to all these odors.

THE OLD WEST

Copyright: Barbara W. Beacham

This my weekly contribution to Monday’s Finish the Story, hosted by Barbara W. Beacham. Every Monday, Barb 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. 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 the other stories is as follows:

https://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/2015/04/13/mondays-finish-the-story-april-13th-2015/

Genre: Humor Fiction

Word Count: 3+11+150=164 Words

THE OLD WEST by P.S. Joshi

The neighbors were not happy about my choice of yard art.

My wife stood staring at the statue. It was a sandstone replica of a buffalo and a Native American. It was also in the middle  of our front lawn.

“Well,” I said, gazing at it with a far-away look, “It’s a reminder of my youth.”

“Your youth?” said my wife, who was starting to lose patience. “Since when did you spend a youth around Native Americans hunting buffalo on the western plains?”

“Well, I could have.” I said. “I was born in the U.S. west.”

“Yes, sure,” she said smirking, “if you’d been born over four hundred years ago. How did you get it here?”

“You would ask that. I bribed the baggage handlers,” I said, hanging my head.

“The neighborhood committee will never stand for it. They’ll demand immediate removal. It takes up too much space, and space is severely limited. We live under a dome on the moon, Hank, and there are strict rules.”