Different Strokes

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

He snorted, as always, as he stood in the door of her office. “Tchotchkes. Bric-a-brac. How do you stand all this mess? Clutter, nothing but dust catchers!”

I’m not having this conversation with you again.”

“Right. They all meeeaan something to you. One day I’m going to clear it all out so you have space to work!”

“The day you do that, you’ll have lots of wide open space for yourself. I and my “mess” will be gone. Now leave me alone.”

“Bah!” He snorted again as he stomped away.

Elegy on a Rose

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

It is so lonely here. When I was cut, my life span ended.

They stuck me in a vase of water, now quite low and mucky.

I miss my siblings. I miss the outdoors. Why do people do this to us? Are we being punished for something? Our execution involves being left in isolation until someone comes in and fingers our petals. A human nose–disgusting!–sniffs us and says roses don’t smell as good as they used to.

You’d stink, too, if you were cut off from all your kindred and left alone to rot.


PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda

The flower petals ruffled in the breeze. It was good, because the breeze concealed their conversations.
“What are you red guys doing in our bed? You have no business here!”

“We don’t know! It wasn’t our choice! We’d rather be with our own kind over there!”

One of the yellow flowers piped up: “But you look really pretty mixed together! The contrasting colors are brighter than if you were all separate.”

A red flower snorted. “There’s always a cock-eyed optimist!”

Modern Art?

PHOTO PROMPT © Carole Erdman-Grant

It sat out in the middle of nowhere. Empty, abandoned, it was representative of the whole town. Few people remained, but what was left of this little strip mall still got quite a bit of attention.

Graffiti artists plied their trade without fear of legal trouble. No one cared. The building had been covered, painted over, repainted so many times that there was no way of knowing how it had looked originally.

Messages in code were left. The occasional foul language was quickly painted over. Sometimes, artists worked together to create murals.

There was no harm done.


PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Elsa wasn’t supposed to have survived the winter. She as old. She had congestive heart failure. Frail and fading, she had endured the long dark winter. Every morning, she was disappointed when she woke up alive.

Then spring came. The air softened. The days lengthened. She wanted to feel the sun on her old bones at least one more time before Death came to call.

Her son set up her favorite outdoor chair, setting it firmly in the late-snow-slushed ground.

They found her an hour later, upright, head resting on the back of her chair. At peace.

Blue Monday

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

“Well! What’s the occasion?” asked Cathy.

“No occasion,” replied Denny. “Just wanted to give you a treat to start our long weekend.”

“Looks delicious,” she replied. She picked up her fork, and ate the raw veggies. “I can’t have the cheese and sausage, you know. Too calorie-dense.”

“Okay, just shift them to my plate.”

“One piece of toast, no butter. I’ll dip it in my eggs. You can have the rest.”

“Can’t you take a break from all that this weekend?”

“And have a blue Monday? There’s plenty of salad in the fridge.”

He sighed.

What on Earth!

Zing and Zang sat on a porch step, gazing high up into the sky.

“What on Earth!” Zing exclaimed.

“No idea,” replied Zang.

“Earth people are weird,” said Zing.

“Got that right,” said Zang.

“Well, after our latest narrow escape, I guess we can’t say much. Good thing we can teleport. That was a MESS when the Leaning Tower crashed!”


I’m back, but I don’t know for how long. Things are a bit hectic around here, with my son and his wife staying with us. Finding quiet time to write is difficult. They went South this week to be with J’s mom for her birthday, so I have a little more time to myself. I’ve missed being here! I think this is the longest I’ve been away since I started with this prompt several years ago. Good to see you all again 🙂

The Tower


Zing and Zang had wandered all over Rome and Florence. They marveled at the sculptures and paintings they saw. No artists lived on Zukor, their home planet. All were scientists or government employees.

They journied to Pisa to see the Leaning Tower. Teleporting was quickest; within seconds they stood on the grassy area surrounding the Tower.

Suddenly, Zang grabbed Zing, dragging him away. “It’s falling! The giant’s mouth is wide open! He’s yelling at everyone to get away! Oh, his eyes are terrible!”

“Zang, it’s been like this for hundreds of years. That’s not a ma. . . .”

United Nations

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

On a sultry New York summer day, the streets were thronged with people looking for air. What they found tantalized their taste buds, beckoning them to try a taste of everything.

People were relaxed, enjoying a lunch hour or the end of their work day. As they pressed toward a food stand, no one was rude. There were Asians, Jews, Africans, Cubans, Puerto Ricans; tourists from around the world.

It was a better United Nations. Each person was just looking for some good food. No one was trying to control anyone else’s thinking, choices, or tastes.

Book Cat

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Don’t look so surprised. Everyone’s heard of bookworms, right? So I figure, why not book cats?

After all, some of the most important stories have cats. Think of “Puss in Boots,” for instance. Or the story of that silly little girl, Alice, who wanders in Wonderland. If it weren’t for the Cheshire Cat, she wouldn’t have survived!

And I have to give a nod to our friend Dr. Seuss, who wrote The Cat in the Hat, and The Cat in the Hat Came Back. Of course he did. Cats are survivors!

Every good story has a cat. Or several.