It’s time for the Friday Fictioneers! Every Friday, writers around the world write 100-word stories based on a photo prompt issued by Madison WoodsYou can read more Friday Fictioneer stories by clicking the link that appears below my story. The Fictioneers also have a Facebook page here.


by Jan Brown

He roosts in a tree that has no leaves, to feed on those who have no life.

He perches on the top floor of a high-rise bank, where he gazes and grunts at his future carrion meals.  One whiff–and he swoops to claim his doleful prey.

He is sleek and well-coifed in his shiny black suit. They call him Buzz because he is always in the know, or so he thinks.

But he is wrong. He earned the nickname behaving like a buzzard, feasting on the dying dreams of his clients. With razor-sharp talons, he tears their lives to shreds.



38 thoughts on “Buzzard

  1. Is he a lawyer??? Great piece. I thought he was a literal buzzard for the first few lines. Speaking of lines, that first line was an excellent lead in.

  2. That’s a great story. I have known people (in a bank even where I worked) like that buzzard. A good description of many out there I believe.

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