It’s that time again! Time to gather around the table and share some juicy tidbits of fiction with the folks of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the lovely and talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. You can find other small tales of wonder, and danger at: rochellewisoff.com. Come on out and join us! This week’s photo is loaned to us by : Alicia Jamtaas

WC: 116 Sorry.

Slumber Room #4

In an effort to meet the demands of the pandemic, the local mortuary had opened an extra room to accommodate the “non-traditional” funeral service. Bodies were no longer an issue; mass graves had taken that task over. Still, families needed a place to find closure. So, Slumber Room #4 was opened in the basement of the funeral home. The mood was dark, it’s décor dark. The overhead lighting was replaced with string lights. It turned out to be far more popular than was expected and so, it wasn’t long before the novelty wore off. Now, every funeral home in the nation was trying to mimic the set up. Ahhh, but nothing would ever replace the original…

Author’s Note: Hard week. I made the mistake of reading several before attempting to write and tainted my muse. I kept picturing Grandma Mazur of Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series and would crack up laughing. Anyway, my thoughts swayed melancholy. Too many funerals this week.

It’s our 28th wedding anniversary tomorrow. Hubby is sending me away for the weekend. Heading out of town for an Urban Sketchers Summit in Columbus, Ohio this weekend. Back to the city where I learned how to be human again. So, I’m expecting to have a blast of it. Given all that’s happened recently I really need a break from caregiving even if it is only a few hours. So, it’s a good anniversary gift.

It’s that time again! Time to gather around the table and share some juicy tidbits of fiction with the folks of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the lovely and talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. You can find other small tales of wonder, and danger at: rochellewisoff.com. Come on out and join us! This week’s photo is loaned to us by : Liz Young.

wc:88

Heritage.

‘So, where do you think you’re going to fly that contraption? We’re not exactly planet-side, you realize that, don’t you?’ Bear rolled her eyes.

‘That’s not the point. I built this from the actual plans of the Wright Brothers. Can’t you see?’ Engineer Storm defended with a broad grin. ‘It was a feat of epic proportions when they built the first one.’

‘Uh-huh. And, just what are you going to say to the Captain about it?’

‘About what?’ Captain William Wright asked as he entered the cargo bay.

Author’s Note: This story line occured to me while watching “Star Trek: Voyager” last night. I can just picture Tom Paris doing this, Can’t you?

On a much happier note, I’m glad to be to get back into my page here. Sorry, I remembered my password this time, forgot my email. Cleaned out my cache and such two weeks ago. Took me a while and much help from friends going through old email addy’s until I found the one. So, email is changed, account paid for another year. 🙂 ❤

When I left, I was waiting for tests to see if I had Cancer… those tests ALL came back NEGATIVE! Thank you all for your prayers! Bacterial infections are finally cleared up. New dietary requirements in place and I’m feeling great! Been dabbling a bit in mixed media art… not my strong point. Made a new prayer journal, and am making elements for a nature themed journal. Taking it slow, enjoying the journey… enjoying life! Have a great week, all!

It’s that time again! Time to gather around the table and share some juicy tidbits of fiction with the folks of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the lovely and talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. You can find other small tales of wonder, and danger at: rochellewisoff.com. Come on out and join us! This week’s photo is loaned to us by : AJ Wilson

wc: 99

Previously: A solar flare forced the world into shelters. Iosa found herself alone until she met up with a neighbor, Park. They became close friends. Three years later, the shelters were running out of food and supplies. Iosa and her friend Park had found a way to escape the secure shelter…and had made their way home…

Beyond the Threshold

The key turned painfully, and Park had to push hard with his shoulder to open the door. Instantly he coughed at the smell. Three years, and still the smell of death was distinguishable.

‘I don’t like this.’ Park admitted.

‘Me, either, but we gotta know. Don’t we?’ Iosa stepped in behind him.

‘Mum and Pa refused to leave this house.’ Park mumbled, not stepping beyond the foyer. ‘I – I…’

‘I’ll get the keys to the garage. They’re beside the back door, right?’ Iosa offered. ‘We’ll get the camp gear from the garage and go to my house.’

‘Yeah, sure.’

Author’s Note: An uneventful week while waiting to put car in shop to find coolant leak. Only happens when AC is on, though, so driving without. Staying close to home. Sorting through books and deciding what to send to library sale, and what to hold onto just a tad longer.

Also, I’m reading/listening (both) to “Spare” by Prince Harry. Wow, if even half is true, what a life to have to live. The audio version is read by the author, and I have to say he has a fine reading voice and style. Like the writing style as well… easy to read, poignant, dead to the point. An interesting book altogether. A lot of practical wisdom thrown into the mix as well.

It’s that time again! Time to gather around the table and share some juicy tidbits of fiction with the folks of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the lovely and talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. You can find other small tales of wonder, and danger at: rochellewisoff.com. Come on out and join us! This week’s photo is loaned to us by : Dale Rogerson.

wc: 104 minus backstory.

Previously: A solar flare forced the world into shelters. Iosa found herself alone until she met up with a neighbor, Park. They became close friends. Three years later, the shelters were running out of food and supplies. Iosa and her friend Park had found a way to escape the secure shelter…

Breakin

‘This way…’ Park pulled her around the corner.

Iosa held fast to his hand as he led her down their old street. It looked just like it had when they left so long ago. But it was silent. No barking dogs or even chirping birds. Lawns were overgrown, and paint was chipping on the houses.

‘Here we are.’ Park smiled as he looked up to the dead wreath that still hung on the door.

‘Should we go in?’ Iosa eyed the door with concern wrinkling her brow.

‘Why not, it’s home.’ Park shrugged pulling the hidden key out and turned it in the lock.

Author’s Note: Generally, it’s been a normal week. The heat has caused the engine to leak antifreeze so it’s scheduled to get into the shop next week. Meanwhile, checking it often, topping off water, and praying it stays cool. It’s also been a very busy week. We spent the weekend helping a neighbor go through his worldly possessions as he prepares to move to assisted living next week. He has alzheimer’s and is only lucid for a few hours of a morning. Gifted him with a new lap blanket from our Purls, Chains, and Quilts group at church to take with him. This move will be a GOOD thing. In the midst, I’ve put another row of squares on a triangular shawl, and a few more inches on a sweater. Meanwhile, I’m still going through my own possessions and labeling what is to go where after my passing. It’s all I can do to help make it easier for my husband to carry on. Prayers are still raising for tests to be done July 20.

It’s that time again! Time to gather around the table and share some juicy tidbits of fiction with the folks of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the lovely and talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. You can find other small tales of wonder, and danger at: rochellewisoff.com. Come on out and join us! This week’s photo is loaned to us by : Roger Bultot.

wc: 100 exact + title

Breakout

Iosa and Park saw the reality- supplies were running out. They’d have to escape or face death by starvation. So they began to search for a way out…

Iosa whispered into Park’s ear. ‘I found it… a way out.’

His eyes widened. ‘Where?’

‘Come, I’ll show you.’

They made their way through the crowded floor where people slept in whatever position they could find. They moved as quietly as possible. When people were sleeping they weren’t bickering or fighting for the limited rations that grew smaller by the day.

‘See, I found a window. Shouldn’t take much to break it.

Author’s Note: A much better week so far. Managed to get one portrait out the door. Prayer shawl is about 1/4 of finished. Felt up to going to library and my new tablet is working and filled with audio and readable books. YEAH! Got my old desktop hooked up and everything is there, untouched! Double YEAH! Daring to look as far as August and looking to see if I can afford to spend the weekend in Columbus, Oh for the Ohio Regioanal Urban Sketchers Summit. There’s workshops in watercolor that I could really use, and in a different approach to arting that intrigues me. That said, registration opens Saturday morning, so feel like I need to decide. I lost my money last year when my car was broken into night before. grr… feeling cautious about investing again, ya’ know. Anyway. Busily making things and sending them out.

It’s that time again! Time to gather around the table and share some juicy tidbits of fiction with the folks of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the lovely and talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. You can find other small tales of wonder, and danger at: rochellewisoff.com. Come on out and join us! This week’s photo is loaned to us by : Rowena Curtin.

wc: 100!

Bistro

‘They didn’t get it all.’ He shrugged.

‘Only because the cast iron was too heavy to lift.’ I snorted back, plopping down in a chair and looking around the virtually empty apartment.

‘So, that’s why you have iron furniture?’

I smiled. ‘Crooks… they didn’t realize that this little bistro set is worth more than all the electronics they stole. Especially, given the current value on precious metals.’

‘Want to sell?’

‘No. Where would I sit if I did?’ I ran a hand along the edge of the small table. ‘Besides, my great great grandfather cast this for my grandmother.’

Author’s Note: Thank you all for your continued prayers. I’m finally able to eat solid food! YEah! I wanted to lose a few pounds, but this was not the way to do it. Back to treading the waters of living… This week began with being robbed. Had to be someone with a key because deadbolts don’t unlock themselves, is all i’m saying! Apartment Staff/Maintenance is at the top of the list of suspects as several places were compromised and electronics/medications stolen. All had the same MO of deadbolts unlocked, but door handles locked… a thing that maintenance always does that annoys the H**** out of me since they won’t fix my door handle lock and it sticks and won’t unlock. Needless, I’m buying myself a new door handle and a new deadbolt. IF they want into my place, they’ll have to call ahead from now on! Grrr….

Visited a nice little art gallery/studio down in Covington, Ky called the Purple Paisley Artisan Shop. this week, too. Cute little place. Great art inside! All local artists/photographers. Here’s a link to their WP page if you’re interested in that sort of thing… https://purplepaisleyartisanshop.wordpress.com/

Have a great week! Hug someone you love! Hug someone you don’t love, too!

It’s that time again! Time to gather around the table and share some juicy tidbits of fiction with the folks of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the lovely and talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. You can find other small tales of wonder, and danger at: rochellewisoff.com. Come on out and join us! This week’s photo is loaned to us by : Ted Strutz.

WC: 109, sorry.

I tried to cut the word count as much as I could, but still went over. This is a real story, non-fiction, from the early 90’s when I was dating my now husband. A night to remember!

The Concert

It was my first, and only, concert. A birthday gift from boyfriend, now husband. Being short, just shy of five foot, front row, crushed by people. Garth Brooks came out, I cried because I couldn’t see anyone on stage. A security guard I knew from working a different venue saw me, pulled me out of the crush and lifted me to the edge of the stage where there were a few bales of straw for show. I got the best seat in the house that night. It was a dream come true, especially when Mr. Brooks came over to sing just a few feet away. I’ll never forget it!

Authors’ note: A much better week, health wise. Am finally able to eat a meal. Waiting until July for answers is wearing on me, but there’s naught to do about it but pray and leave it in God’s hands. In the meantime, I’m working on a dance shawl to match my dress, have two portrait commissions to complete.

PHOTO PROMPT © Amanda Forestwood

It’s that time again! Time to gather around the table and share some juicy tidbits of fiction with the folks of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the lovely and talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. You can find other small tales of wonder, and danger at: rochellewisoff.com. Come on out and join us! This week’s photo is loaned to us by : Amanda Forestwood.

wc:81

Battlement

I stand on the old battlements

moss now covers where blood once ran

bird calls replace the agonized screams

tall, strong trees now stand

where once young boys and men fell

the old battlefield calls to be remembered

the souls forever trapped here

reach out to the living

their cries muffled by fallen leaves

warning us not to follow in their path

but to move upward and above

to live life in peace.

I stand on the battlement today

and listen…

B.McQuinn

Author’s Note: I’ve been mighty sick these past few weeks. In and out of hospital fighting a bacterial infection that began as a result of discovering a severe food allergy. Another discovery is a bit more unsettling. I go back to doc in July to be tested for female Cancers. I’ve reached the calm acceptance of what could be, my affairs are in order (or as about as orderly as I can afford to do). I’m resting alot, spending that time in deep prayers for the people in my life, including all who read my little stories, poems, and enjoy my art. I do ask that you keep myself and hubby in your prayers as these weeks of waiting are sure to get to stretch us.