The Shoes

PHOTO PROMPT © Magaly Guerrero

She wanted, more than anything, to study art. She coveted the title Art Historian,  She loved beauty, mystery, romance, the vistas of a world she would never see for herself.  Art would take her away from her invalid chair and her dreams of dancing.

The only reminder of her lost gift was the pair of high-heeled dance shoes she refused to throw away.  How she had whirled, twirled, romped and stomped  through her routines, feeling as if nothing could stop her from flying away from earth’s gravity and into the vast universe.

If only. If only.


PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Cold pizza. Rich with cheese and herbs, the grease spotted the delivery box  and stained the granite counter underneath.

The wine bottle, left uncorked, was half full. Only one goblet, which indicated the person had been alone.

Bits and pieces, the flotsam and jetsam of life, littered the dresser top around the pizza. There weren’t, however, any real clues as to what had happened.  No indication of a fight in the hotel room.  A couple of shopping bags were still full. A brief case was unmolested.

Nothing explained the crumpled body on the sidewalk far below.


PHOTO PROMPT © Jellico’s Stationhouse

The bicycle had  been left unsecured and unguarded. “People should know better,”  thought Pete.

He leaned against the light pole that propped  the bike, looked at his watch, glanced around. He just looked like a guy waiting for someone.

Finally, he mounted the bike.  Again, he glanced around as if making sure the person he waited for wasn’t coming.  Checking traffic, he pedaled off with confidence.

“Home free!”  he thought, a smirk twisting his lips. “People are so stupid!”

The whoop-whoop of the siren gave him a jolt.

“Gotcha, Sneaky Pete!” The cop smirked, too.

Yesterday and Today

PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria

Yesterday, the calm of a busy harbor marina. Smooth, blue water. Small boats, big ships, Industry, pleasure, business and play all unaware that a change was coming.

Today:  The air, still calm, doesn’t give fair warning.  In fact, there was very little warning of any kind. Only those who happened to be looking out to sea noticed a strange new line of darker blue on the horizon, growing higher and moving faster as it rolled toward their peaceful bay.

So terrifying,  so relentless.  So careless of anything in its path.

And afterward? Calm, and sorrow.

“Fraidy Cat!”

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

photo@J.Hardy Carroll

The children sped by on the roller skates clamped to their sneakers. Some grabbed at the bars of the iron fence, building their speed. They all craned their necks at the estate that took up a whole city block. None of them had ever dared to venture inside, and parents warned their children to stay away.

They never saw people. No one was ever in the vast yard, mowing or trimming; yet it always appeared to have been freshly groomed each morning.

“I’m going in there someday,” whispered Johnny.

“Then why’re  you whispering?” taunted Susie. “Fraidy cat!”

A Sad Story

(photo credit: Pegman)

The battle raged as Molly looked on from her window. It was a hearbreakingly blue sky  that watched with her as the armies fought each other to the death.

Molly’s window, atop the brothel below, was three stories above the street.As she watched, her glorious Irish hair shone like polished brass, textured by the sun’s golden rays. More than one soldier,glancing upward, lost his focus for a moment and went to his death with that brazen head fixed in his vision.

And then, the BOOM of a cannon sounded, and Molly was no more.

A pub was named after her

She would have laughed.

Ready! Set! Charge!


PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

“Hopalong One to Command.  Come in, please.”

“This is Command, Hopalong One. What is your status?”

“Command, status is GO! I have a clear visual of Target. Permission to proceed?”

“Permission granted.”

“Ready, Sir.  All is in order. Signaling field officers. The way is clear. Target does not seem to suspect anything. This should go without a hitch.”

“Copy that, Hopalong One. Leave your transmitting device open.”

“Calling all field officers!  Prepare to attack!  The way is clear, target does not suspect. Check in, please.”



“Check. . . “

“Wings up! Ready to roll! Aaaaaaannnnd. . . . CHARGE!”


PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Aggie sighed as she turned away from Ed’s casket. This had not been the plan. She was supposed to go first. He was stronger, had better health. They didn’t know about the clogged arteries until it was too late.

It had been cloudy all day, and rainy. Fitting, Aggie thought, for the day she buried her love.

She glanced up as light broke through the dark clouds, and realized the sky was clearing. The sun was winning, shooting its rays from behind the dark clouds that were breaking up.

“I’ll be okay, Ed. Don’t worry. Goodbye.”

The Not-Snow

Photo Prompt for Friday Fictioneers:

PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

“It’s odd that we’re having snow so early in the season,” Brigitta commented. “Hans, don’t you think it’s odd?”

“Brigitta, you need to take care of your chores and get away from the window.” Hans was gruff in his response. He’d been up at the camp all day performing his duties as a guard.

“It’s very odd snow, Hans. I’ve never seen anything like it.And what’s that awful smell?  Phew! It seems to come in the door with you.”

“Brigitta!  That’s enough! Mind your own business.Leave me alone. I’m tired.”


Friday Fictioneers Photo Prompt:



Two little boys were running through the underbrush along the river’s edge, with no particular destination. Just running, as boys will.

They stopped short when they saw the head. Someone had left it there; someone who had been smoking and drinking. Terrified, they thought it was real. A closer look showed that it was only  plastic, but their hearts still raced.

Then they glanced at each other, and the light of deviltry appeared in their eyes like a candle flame.

“Let’s go find the girls!” Glee filled their little heads. Fun times!