Icy Trip

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“Be careful on the porch. The ice is hard to see.”

“Yeah, Mom. Got it.” Sonny rolled his eyes, wishing Mom would quit treating him like a child.

He hurried from the door to the stairs When his phone dinged, eyes on the screen, he didn’t see the icy patch.

His foot slid and pointed at the sky. Arms windmilling, he went top over teakettle, landing on his behind and cracking his head on the bottom step. As he waited for the world to stop spinning, he heard his mother’s voice.

“I told you. Someday you’ll listen to me.”

(This is one that I had to pare down from 133 words to the necessary 100—99, actually. My original version was more fun, but rules are rules!)

Angels?

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

“Can you believe we’re angels?” whispered Isobel.

“Can’t believe I made it!” Sammy whispered back.

“Feels like I’m wearing a nightgown. In public.”

“Can’t believe they’re making the guys wear dresses. Next floor up is haloes, I think.”

“No, it’s harps.”

“Don’t want to play any harp. It’s girlie.”

“Angels don’t have gender, Silly!”

“Don’t like that, either.”

“After harps, then haloes. Then assignments, then wings if we do a good job.”

“Whole thing makes no sense.”

“How’d you make it this far?”

“Dunno.”


Frozen

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Martha stood gazing out the front window at the park across the street. The deep cold of winter had settled in. At twilight, there was nothing inviting about the park. Cold, bare, and without the laughter of children, without any warmth at all, there was nothing to do there.

She glanced behind her at George, his nose buried in his newspaper. As usual. Few words passed between them these days, and inside, her heart was a cold and barren as the park. They’d just had their only conversation of the day.

“George?”

“Reading my paper. “

Frozen.

Peace Offering

PHOTO PROMPT © NA’AMA YEHUDA

It had been a pointless argument. Again! Susie was discouraged; Ted was fed up. Neither of them knew what to do.

Susie’s jaw hardened. She always gave in first. Not this time! He could stew and pout forever. If only she could just walk out—but she did love him.

Ted waited. Susie always caved. This time, though, he wondered. He’d never seen her looking so adamant before. Hmmm. Something special was in order. He could not–would not–say sorry. But he could take her some Haagen–Dazs.

She melted under the bliss of the frozen splendor.

Do Exactly as You are Told!

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

“Don’t touch the fence. It’s electric. Don’t get too close. Don’t talk to the guards. Don’t ask questions. Do exactly as you’re told. Do not talk among yourselves unsupervised. No joking, laughing, or ribald language. Remember there are eyes and ears everywhere. Stay in your proscribed area. Eat when you are fed. No snacks. Sleep when you are told. No naps. Work until the siren sounds.”

Number 74659100001 whispered, to no one at all, “I thought this wasn’t going to be a totalitarian government.”

He never felt the electric bolt that killed him.

***********************************************

I need to apologize for not reading posts last week. I won’t bore you with the details. I will, however, do better 🙂

Back in My Day.. . .

PHOTO PROMPT © C.E. Ayr

I sighed as we pulled into the deluxe campground. I knew what was coming. Fred had been grumpy and silent during the drive. I was sure he was dusting off his speech.

“Back in MY day,” he grumbled, “We didn’t bring a whole HOUSE to go camping. We didn’t need fancy parks. We hiked, pitched a tent, started a fire, and went fishing. If you can’t catch your supper, you shouldn’t go camping. Camping is SUPPOSED to be rough!”

He droned on, and I checked out. Suddenly. . . .

“HARRIET! Did you bring the portable TV? And my special pillow?”

Image result for crabby old man

Color Him Alive

Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“Oma, who is this man in the picture?” Benjamin always, always had question.

“Benjy, it is my son, your father, Schlomo.”

“Where is he? I would like seeing my father.”

“Ach, Benjy, your papa is with God. Someday you will see him.”

“But why? What happened?”

Oma’s eyes filled with tears. Always, Benjy’s question brought tears.

“He died in one of the camps during the war, Benjy. Because he had a menorah. God knows how he got it.”

‘May I color him, Oma?”

” Benjy, color him alive.” Benjy set to work while Oma went to answer the telephone.