Game Over!

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Sofia hated the blindfold. She hated be spun around. And she hated this silly game.

The donkey wasn’t fond of it, either. For years, donkeys had endured being stuck with all manner of sharp objects, feeling helpless.

But Sofia whispered to the donkey as she approached. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, then, DON’T!” yelled the donkey, as he jumped off the paper and dropped to the ground, suddenly full-sized. “NO MORE! I will not endure this any more, ever!”

Children were screaming, running in all directions.

“Game OVER!” brayed the donkey.


A Moment

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

It was quiet in the pool. Only one other lane held a swimmer. The water was perfect on that hot summer day–cool, not icy. Swimming relaxes and refreshes me. But I’ll never go back.

See the dimple about 2/3 of the way down the lane? That’s me. I stayed in one place for what seemed an eternity, while someone–something–held my feet. My nose was the only thing above the water.Couldn’t move at all.

And then, suddenly, I was free. Terrified, I sped to the ladder, hoisted myself up and ran.

No. I’ll never go back.



It was a strange and desolate place. From the road, the building almost melted into the hillside. Its purpose was obscure. One could not tell how long the barbed wire fencing went, and so far there was no gate.

Patchy snow remained here and there, indicating the oncoming spring. Still, the only color was drab. Desolate. Dreary.

Then the driver mashed the brake pedal, a scream choking his throat! What had risen up from nothing was horrifying, monstrous. Man? Beast? Sci-fi monster? They loomed before the Humvee, pulsating, wordless.

“CUT! That’s a wrap! Take five, everyone.”

The Shul

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Three angels perched on the sills of the windows above the three entrance doors. They watched as the devout came for the service.

“Akiba, has the neighborhood changed? ” Amichai was a young angel, new to the neighborhood.

“Oh, yes indeed,” sighed Akiba. “This shul has stood since everyone walked here for Shabbath. They came in families, from nearby houses that were never taller than the synagogue.”

Asaf chimed in. “I came here as a boy. We knew nothing of automobiles.”

“Has it ever been attacked?” questioned Amichai.

“Yes. Sometimes Yaweh lets us protect it; sometimes not. His will be done.”

Look at ME!

“Hey, Pa, look at me! Up here! HERE!”

Pa looked up and saw his little boy, who had somehow climbed onto the heavy wooden beam.

“Oh no! Come on, come back down the same way you went up. Right now! And be careful! It’s old, rotted and wormy!”

“Pa? Daddy? It looks different from up here. I wasn’t scared before, but I am now. I’m afraid I’ll fall.”

” Stay where you are. I’ll come to you. Don’t move!”

And Pa talked until he was close enough to be able to catch his son as he jumped.

“I wasn’t really scared.”

Dark and Cold

The caped and hooded woman kept pace with the city worker ahead of her. Heart thudding, she prayed he would stay close until she reached her car. She kept her eyes glued to the letters on his vest–white letters that showed clearly in the gathering darkness.

“There’s nothing colder than a dark alley in a winter city,” she thought.

The man seemed to slow his pace. She did the same. Just a few more steps to the parking lot.

Then, without warning, he turned and ran straight toward her. Paralyzed, she saw only the glinting knife he held.

So They Say

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

This lovely, peaceful place, they say, used to harbor monks who were slaughtered during Cromwell’s reign. They say that those monks rise when the moon is full. They walk the paths in silence. They say that no one has seen their faces.

Those who have seen the ghosts don’t speak of it. Something in their eyes forbids questions. But, they say, once a person has seen the ghosts, he is compelled to return. They watch in silence, waiting.

One of the watchers wrote in his diary that the paths were wet with tears as the monks passed.

So they say.