Tag: writing

Hey, Noah!

PHOTO PROMPT © LIsa Fox

Get your swim fins ready…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 : LIsa Fox

WC: 98

“Hey, Noah!”

‘Hey, Noah!’

That’s what the sign read in front of the church. What made it even more clear was the pontoon boat tied off to the church entrance ramp. I chuckled as I turned into the lot. The new minister had a unique sense of humor, but this… after the severe flooding…

Just because, I opened the weather radar on my phone and zoomed out a little. The map was nearly a solid green with a smattering of yellows, and a few darker red and magenta cells on the horizon. Maybe the pastor had some intel we didn’t…

Authors Note: This past month has seen record flooding in our state of Kentucky. I live well north of that area, but the devastation is very real there. And there is still rain in the forecast. Our ground is already saturated… flooding continues to be a very real threat.

The Yellow Ribbon

The following story is written for the “Sunday Six Sentence Story Word prompt hosted by the lovely and talented Girlieontheedge’s blog. For more information and/or to participate, please find the prompt for this week at: https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2022/09/04/sundays-six-sentence-story-word-prompt-228/

And, here we go…

Yellow Ribbon

I rounded the old oak tree with its yellow band of ribbon beckoning and heard faint strains of a fiddle carried on the air as a slow smile made its way to my face. I breathed in the tangy scent of fresh barbeque, tears gathered and dared to fall. It looked as if the entire community had turned out and I wondered how long it would be before anyone noticed. Stepping from from the sidewalk to the grass I clutched my cane for the painful steps to the picnic tables. I was just about to heave a sigh when a hand laid itself on my shoulder. The words ‘welcome home’ broke the dam as I collapsed into arms that held me tight.

Long Shadows

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

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 : David Stewart.

To continue Iosa’s story…

Long Shadows…

wc: 91

Iosa closed her eyes to the chaos around her and slid down the wall. Inside her mind, she saw her home. The old shed where she’d played house as a child. The nights of ‘camping’ in the yard, filled with ghost stories and roasted marshmallows.

‘On a certain day, at a certain time, when the shadows are just so…’

She could hear her Father’s voice as he told the old story for the millionth time. What she wouldn’t give to hear that story, now. She was so tired, so very tired.

Flare

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

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 : Brenda Cox.

Flare

wc: 100 exact

Iosa planted her back against something. She wasn’t sure if it was a wall or a person. All she truly knew was that the shelter was crowded with barely room to move between the sea of people and belongings. It had been only a few days since the last solar flare had taken out most of the mainland. Those who escaped the radiation had piled into the available shelters until they had sealed the doors. No more could be saved. Iosa closed her eyes and whispered a prayer of thanksgiving that she’d made it inside.

Now, to find her family…