Song of Angels

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, where every story is a surprise. Each week, writers from around the world post 100-word stories based on a photo prompt provided by author  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Visit her site for more information on the Fictioneers.

roger-bultot-art-exhibit

Photo Credit: Roger Bultot

Song of Angels

by Jan Brown

They arrived in a flash of light. The ship was a white, feathery confection with a thousand portals. The beings inside it were composed only of light and sound. And what a sound! Their song was enchanting, spirit-lifting, even healing.

Anyone in hearing range would instantly feel better, happier, cured of earthly ills, ready to pass along the song to the next needy human. Soon, the world was filled with the captivating sound of thousands, then millions, then billions of resonant voices—human and alien, soprano and alto, tenor and bass.

It was a powerful harmony that changed the world.

 

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The Christmas Cap

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, where writers from around the world post 100-word stories based on a weekly photo prompt. Today’s photo is by my long-time Twitter pal, Björn Brudberg. Check out his poetry and prose here.

Our motley crew of writers is led by the delightful author Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Check out her website to learn more about the group and post your own story!

hats

Photo Copyright: Bjorn Brudberg

The Christmas Cap

by Jan Brown

 She tore through the dresser, determined to find her favorite cap. She hadn’t seen it since he died.

It was a Christmas gift, hand-knit with braided yarn that hung to her shoulders. She remembered vividly the last time she wore it.

She had stomped through the door, partly to shake snow off her boots and partly just to stomp her feet in anger. Her husband could be so maddening! Today, she can’t even remember why they argued.

The last words she said to him were not kind. The guilt was overwhelming.

Finally, she found the cap in his long-empty nightstand. A note stuffed inside said “Love you, darling.”

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One of Four

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers! I am making a late entry due to a medical emergency last Friday. Please forgive my tardiness. I am beginning to recover to my normal state of decrepitude, and will meet with the surgeon tomorrow to discuss what I hope will be a brighter future!

To learn more about Friday Fictioneers, please visit the blog of our fearless leader, author Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

lunch counter

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

One of Four

by Jan Brown

ZZ Top would have called him a “sharp dressed man,” with his blindingly white pressed shirt and bow tie, his gray hair neatly coifed. I imagined what his regal face and athletic body would have looked like 50-60 years ago. I felt a chill climb up my spine as I realized who he was.

Back in the day, he was an ordinary student—but extraordinary for his protest. He and his friends started a movement amongst other “ordinary” folks who were tired of visiting restaurants where African Americans could not be served.

I wondered, are LGBTQ welcome now?

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Word Count: 98

 

 

greensboro four leaving

David Richmond (from left), Franklin McCain, Ezell Blair Jr., and Joseph McNeil leave the Woolworth in Greensboro, N.C., where they initiated a lunch-counter sit-in to protest segregation, Feb. 1, 1960. (No photographers were allowed into the store on the first day of protest.) Photo credit: Jack Moebes/Corbis (via npr.org)

 

 

 

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The February One Monument on the Campus of North Carolina A&T State University, honoring the Greensboro Four–Photo via Wikipedia, public domain

 

 

Life and Death

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, where every story is a surprise. We are an international community of writers who get together once a week to write flash fiction. Our lovely leader, author Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, posts the photo prompt on her blog, Addicted to Purple.

I’m glad to be back after a brief hiatus. On occasion, my muse goes missing and I have to chase after her (or him). Have I found my muse again? You be the judge! Tell me in your comments 🙂

path-dale-rogerson

Photo Copyright: Dale Rogerson

 

Life and Death

by Jan Brown

Jenny walked the long pathway. The rising sun lit the way, heating the cold stone. On each side, wondrous adventures loomed. Beautiful gardens, inviting beaches, sprawling cities. There were also darker paths with an edgy feel. Certainly riskier exploits awaited there! She longed for the exhilaration, the thrill of accomplishment.

Was she on the right path? So many choices–just like life.

Does He really have a plan for any of this? If so, Jenny wished He would just come out and tell her! But nooooooooo…He leaves it up to her to decide which path to take.

Just like life.

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…The rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.  – Luke 1:78-79

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Troubled Waters

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, where every story is a surprise! This one is more melancholy than usual. Typically, my characters are either killing each other or falling in love.

Friday Fictioneers is an international community of writers who post 100-word stories each week, based on a photo prompt provided by our lovely leader, author Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  Please visit her website for more information.

boatpilxr_-antiqued

Photo Copyright: Georgia Koch

Troubled Waters

by Jan Brown

Nikki’s husband apologized for the boat. Lately, he was always apologizing.

It was a borrowed boat, dirty and unkempt. But they no longer had access to their yacht—now the bank’s yacht. Nikki wondered if stiff-faced men in pin-striped suits would be throwing a TGIF party tonight on the bay.

They spread a big double sleeping bag on the bottom of the boat, along with a cooler full of lovely but inexpensive wine, cheese and fruit.

Gliding through the calm, moonlit waters, they wondered at the turn their lives had taken, and dreamed of simpler times.

More love. Less money. No regrets.

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Still Free

Welcome to  Friday Fictioneers! We are an international community of writers who post 100-word stories each week, based on a photo prompt provided by our lovely leader, author Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  She is re-running some of the favorite photo prompts this summer while she complies with her publisher’s pesky request to complete her third novel.

This was originally posted in September, 2013, based on the photo by Jan Wayne Fields. Thank you, Jan!

statue of liberty jan wayne fields

Photo Copyright: Jan Wayne Fields

Free

by Jan Brown

I’ve lived in New York all my life, but never visited the Statue of Liberty until today. I ventured out with a small group from our women’s shelter.

What impressed me most was the broken shackle and chain at her feet. She was free. She was me. Releasing the old, embracing the new.

My jerk of an ex-husband was waiting when the ferry returned. He pulled out a gun, but I walked right up to him and grabbed it. The force of the gunshot blew me back onto the ground, and he slumped on top of me.

I was free.

liberty-shackles-national-park-service

Photo Credit: National Park Service

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Still Not a Love Story

It’s time for Friday Fictioneers! This is another summer re-run, a story originally posted in October, 2012. It’s a sad tale, so I won’t say I hope you enjoy it. But I do hope the story transports you, taking you into the mindset of a confused young girl and the predator who exploits her.

Friday Fictioneers is an international community of writers who post 100-word stories each week, based on a photo prompt provided by our lovely leader, author Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  She is re-running some of the favorite photo prompts this summer while she complies with her publisher’s pesky request to complete her third novel.

alley - Jan Morrill

Photo copyright: Jan Morrill

Not a Love Story

by Jan Brown

Lexi snaked through the alley, hoping no one would recognize her. She hoped no one would tell her father that she lingered in the alley at night, the cool white stucco against her unclad back. How could she explain to her family the yearnings she felt? Only Theo understood.

Theo was a man, not a feckless boy with fumbling hands. He knew her body and what it needed. Friends at school told her that Theo wanted to control her, taking wicked pleasure in sharing her with other men. “There’s a difference between love and lust,” they said. But Lexi was lost to love, not knowing the difference.

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Summer Re-run

It’s vacation time at Friday Fictioneers! Actually, it’s not much of a vacation for our leader, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, who is under a deadline for her third novel. So she is re-running a favorite photo prompt from 2012, and I am re-running the story that it inspired.

I love cheesy science fiction movies from the 1940s and 1950s. The preposterous plots and archetypical characters provide not only entertainment but insight into the sometimes hilarious cultural stereotypes of the era. Some of my favorites are:

It! The Terror from Beyond Space (you can see the zipper on the back of the Martian’s costume)

The Thing (an evil alien, a nebbish reporter and an inept military)

The Beginning of the End (giant locusts eat Chicago)

The Blob (bad boy turns out to be the hero)

This is a piece of fan fiction based on The Blob. I believe it was Steve McQueen’s first feature film role. His character had to fight off an alien creature, a growing pink gelatinous blob. He discovered it was vulnerable to cold, and he convinced the townfolk to get a bunch of CO2 fire extinguishers and freeze it to death before it “ate” the diner and all the people in it.

The 1988 remake had a similar gooey blob, but it turned out to be a mutation of a biological weapon invented by–wait for it–the U.S. Department of Defense. The film was set in a ski resort town, so Kevin Dillon and his hot girlfriend killed it (well, most of it) with a snow-making machine.

The photo reminds me of curtains hanging in a diner, like the imperiled diner in the original movie, so I invented a sequel. I hope you enjoy it! I’ve included the old movie trailer for extra chuckles.

ice-on-the-window

Photo copyright: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Ice Ain’t Nice

(with apologies to Steve McQueen and Kevin Dillon)

by Jan Brown

It was a viscous combination of sleet and snow, and it was coming at us horizontally. Each icy fragment hit our unprotected faces with the force of a miniature missile. We ran as fast as the slippery street would allow, finally reaching safety inside the diner.

We couldn’t resist staring out the window as it was pelted with the same sideways slush. Then we realized that safety was just an illusion. With a deafening crack, the glass fractured and the slush quickly coated every available surface. The Blob was back, and this time it wasn’t afraid of the cold.

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Trisha’s Guide to Business Travel

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, where every story is a surprise. This week’s photo prompt is courtesy of Rich Voza. Thank you, Rich!

The airplane landing at sunset (or is it sunrise?) made me think of the long days and nights that I spent flying to our corporate office on business. Despite the long work hours, I always tried to make time to visit a gallery or a new restaurant, even if I never got to do any proper sightseeing. I don’t think I could have tolerated the travel without those small personal treats.

But I wondered what it might be like for others. For example, I met Irv when we worked on a special project together. Irv was Controller of one of our subsidiaries. He’d been coming to the west coast for monthly meetings for ten years, but always had dinner in his hotel. He had never seen any other part of the city. For ten years!!!  So…I “forcefully persuaded” him to go out to some wonderful ethnic restaurants and see/hear/taste things he had never seen/heard/tasted before.

Trisha, my protagonist, is much younger and prettier than Irv, but suffers from the same lackluster syndrome.

airplane rich voza

Photo Copyright: Rich Voza

 

Trisha’s Guide to Business Travel

by Jan Brown

Trisha hated Los Angeles. 

Mostly, she hated business travel. The long flights to Los Angeles were obnoxious, the meetings even more so.

This trip, she resolved to enjoy herself–not just sit in her hotel with piles of work and room service. She found a new favorite restaurant on the beach. The owner looked like a rock star, his long hair held back with a colorful bandana. He was always smiling! Trisha wondered if she would ever be that happy.

One night, he brought dinner to her table and sat down. They talked till closing, and beyond. Way beyond.

Trisha loves Los Angeles.

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To read more Friday Fictioneers’ stories, click the link below.

For more information or to post your own story, please visit our lovely leader’s website, author Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Addicted to Purple.

Music Therapy

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers! We are a lively and friendly international writing community. Between Wednesday and Friday of every week, we each post a 100-word story to share. This week’s photo prompt is courtesy of John Nixon. Thank you, John!

To learn more about us, or to post your own story, please visit our lovely leader’s website, author Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Addicted to Purple.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Photo Copyright: John Nixon

Music Therapy

by Jan Brown

Lizzie stared at the old player piano. It was rigged as a joke, to look like a clown was stuffed inside. But it wasn’t making anyone smile.

So Lizzie dissembled the clown, then reached inside the piano and deactivated the player roll. She sat down and began to play her songs.

People gathered round. Broken people, people whose psychoses were so overwhelming that all they could do was scream or moan. Now they were quiet. Listening.

Lizzie began to sing. Her throaty voice carried through the halls, carrying with it her damage and, most of all, her hope.

People smiled.

 

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