Somehow, today’s Friday Fictioneers story got posted on my Bible Study page. I’ve reblogged it to its appropriate place, but decided to leave it there as well. We need to remember. We like to say, “Never Again!” But it could happen again. The hearts of mankind don’t change from one generation to the next.

Linda's Bible Study

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Shlomo, bent and frail, watched as busloads of tourists filed under the Arbeit Macht Frei gateway. Loaded with water bottles–which made Shlomo smile –and cameras, they gazed with intense curiosity, as if they expected to see ghosts. Most became very quiet.

There wasn’t even any birdsong, as if nature itself revered the spirits of those who had suffered there.

Shlomo, aided by a grandson on each side, walked away from the tourists toward the barracks that he knew best. Wordless, he and his grandsons stood and gazed into the interior.

Wordless, they walked away.

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Death to Life

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

The stump buzzed with activity. Full of insects and worms, and critters of all sorts feeding on those insects and worms, it provided a banquet of nutrition for the forest.

Rusty stared at it for a long time. Finally he turned to his dad and said, “But why was it cut down in the first place? Somebody killed it!”

“That’s possible,” his dad replied. “But it’s just as likely that it was cut because it was already diseased. Or just old, breaking down. Sometimes when things die, they provide life for lots of other important things.”

“Wash Me!”

PHOTO PROMPT © Russell Gayer

The hurricane wreaked havoc for miles and miles. Flooding affected millions of people, destroying homes and vehicles.

Jim’s big van survived, just barely. Once the floods receded, the van was left with filthy residue, covered with debris. The motor was fatally wounded. Insurance claims were taking months, even years, because of the numbers applying.

But that wasn’t enough. Soon, words were written in the muck: “Wash me, lazy pig!” and worse.

Jim set out buckets of soapy water and rags. He wrote “Help Me!” under the original message.

The vandalism stopped. The van got washed.

The Fall


I had stayed overnight at my daughter’s after babysitting late into the night. But I couldn’t rest.

Finally, around 5:30 or 6, I got up, dressed, and quietly left for home.

Our front door was open, but something was off kilter. I noticed the ladder lying flat in front of the garage. Panicked, I parked and ran into the house.

Terry sat in a straight chair with his left leg propped up on another. At the hospital, we learned he had crushed his heel bone.

That was the year of hurricane Sandy. A life-changing Fall.


(Every word is true–no fiction this week. That uprooted tree brought this memory back in an instant. Terry was 69 then, and he’s 78 now. The pain is unrelenting. If you have to climb a ladder, don’t do it when no one else is there to steady the ladder for you. A neighbor heard the clatter and came to see if she could help. We are so thankful that she was there for him until I got home. Isn’t it interesting how closely attuned we become in a long, GOOD marriage! I didn’t know why I was restless and unable to sleep. I just knew I needed to get home!)

The Eye

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

“No, LOOK! It’s on the upper right side of the picture. Plain as day!”

“Okay, Detective. Let’s say it’s an eye. So?”

“Does no one ever THINK around here? What does an eye do? It SEES!”

“Sees what, man? You’re going all woo-woo on me here!”

The detective sighed. “US, you idiot! No way for us to sneak up on the cabin, surprise the guy in there. The EYE sees us!”

The Chief looked down, then back up. “Okay, so we get rid of the eye. Then, we go in. All right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. HOW?”

Zing,Zang, and Tang

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

(Be forewarned: This is a semi-true story using my little alien buddies. It really did happen! Just not to them.)

Zing and Zang opted to eat inside. They’d learned to enjoy orange juice, just like earth people.

The waitress took their order. “I’ll bring your OJ right away so you can enjoy it while you wait.”

“Ah, real orange juice right here in Florida! I wonder if it will be freshly squeezed?” asked Zang.

“Real orange trees right outside! I’ll bet it is!” Zing replied.

They both took their first sip, then looked at each other in dismay.

“Blech! What IS this?”

“Why, it’s Tang!” smiled the waitress.

Tang. In Florida. Land of sunshine and oranges.

Image result for cute aliens

A Good Girl


Her father had always intimidated her. Rarely, he hit her– but just his voice, his eyes and face, could make her feel stupid and do stupid things. She knew he enjoyed himself.

When she said she wanted to take driver’s ed at school, he said, “No. I’ll teach you myself. ”

Every session was an endless commentary on her stupidity, her worthlessness. She began to grow angry instead of fearful.

The day she accidentally hit the gas instead of the brakes ended his litany of abuse.

No one doubted her. She’d always been such a good girl.

Endless Journey

I’m sorry to have missed last week. I had a bad couple of weeks in my ongoing struggle with my achey breaky back, but things are looking up now–until the next episode. Truly, I missed reading all the intriguing stories that are created, all different, from the same post!


Iggy stopped to rest. His legs trembled with fatigue. He was parched for a drop of water. After a second, he fluttered his wings again and resumed his endless journey.

“Only a few more steps, and then I can rest,” he thought, his little heart pounding. With incredible effort, he took one sideways step, then another, and another.

Just as he got to the hole, the cable started to move. It rapidly took him right back to where he had started.

He took a breath, fluttered once, closed his eyes, and died.

No Place to Hide

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

“Never again!” Kimi promised herself weaving her way through the crowd. It felt as if she had a sign, back and front: “I AM A SPY.”

Everyone who glanced her way was an enemy. Every pocket held a gun. The guy who brushed against her was trying to trap her. Although every step brought her closer to safety, it felt as if there were miles to go.

Clutching her net bag to her chest, she continued to run. Finally! Safety!

“Kimi, why are you panting? Did you run?”

“I was playing ‘spy.’ They almost got me !”



Sharon sat in her therapist’s office, tears dripping endlessly down her contorted face. Her whole body was shaken by sobs.

The therapist waited.

Finally, Sharon was able to talk. “He came home with this –UGLY grin all over his face. He smacked my bottom hard, and said, ‘I saw a sign for this. Oversize Load!’ He walked off laughing like a hyena. I’m SO done with his crude remarks about my size.”

“I’ve seen a sign like that. It was on a truck moving a trailer house. Maybe you should. Move, I mean. “

Sharon smiled.