Runaway (part II)

It’s my penultimate day of the Five Photos, Five Stories Challenge. It requires you to post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or simply a short paragraph – it’s entirely up to you. Then each day, nominate another blogger to carry on this challenge. Accepting the challenge is entirely up to the person nominated, it is not a command. But it’s a lot of fun.

Today, I’d like to nominate Lindsey from REVolving.

And if you have time, check out Samantha’s, Izzy’s and Jessica’s challenge entries.

Five Photos, Five Stories – Day 4: Runaway

A girl lies on a bench on the promenade. She smiles in her sleep.

I know her. I’ve no idea who she is. I have to turn my back to the wind to take a good look. Sand is blowing over from the beach, blasting anyone stupid enough walking along the waterfront. I’ve been stupid for a while.

‘Have we met before?’

It’s nothing but a whisper, drowned out by the wind. She can’t have heard. She opens her eyes. She sits, pats the bench with a scaly hand.

My runaway mermaid. Maybe I’m not as stupid as everyone thinks.

 

Teething Problems

I’ve combined MFtS with the Five Stories, Five Photos Challenge.

The Five Photos, Five Stories Challenge rules require you to post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or simply a short paragraph – it’s entirely up to you. Then each day, nominate another blogger to carry on this challenge. Accepting the challenge is entirely up to the person nominated, it is not a command.

Today, I’m nominating Jessica from Eat Me. Thanks again to Lynn for nominating me.

Five Stories, Five Photos – Day 3: Teething Problems

Corniche in Sete

‘Pizza anyone?’

Aaron looks pleased with himself. I wish Mum had taken the time to brief him before she dumped me with him.

‘I didn’t come to the French Med to eat pizza.’

That wipes the smile off his face.

‘Shouldn’t you be better at hiding your disappointment?’

He sits down.

‘I’ve never been good at improv. But I’m trying, Carys.’

‘Mum should have told me earlier. My mate Jen fancies you. It’s gross.’

Aaron rubs his face.

‘I don’t want you to play a role, okay? I deserve a real dad.’

‘Okay.’

‘I like fish.’

Cue movie star smile.

‘No problem.’

Click here for all MFtS entries

Yellow Car

Yellow Car

I know I have to run. Don’t know who, don’t know why, but someone’s coming to take me away. Take me somewhere bad. They unlock the door. Make soothing noises. Won’t fool me. I shoot past, dodge the guards. I’m up the stairs before anyone recovers. The high walls aren’t high enough to keep me in. The sun’s glaring. I have to shield my eyes.

A man in a yellow car barks at me.

‘Get in.’

He looks like a raptor.

‘Do you want to be caught? Get in.’

Don’t like him. I’ll run from him first opportunity I get.

***

Lynn from Word Shamble nominated me for the Five Photos, Five Stories Challenge – cheers Lynn! This is my second entry.

The Five Photos, Five Stories Challenge rules require you to post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or simply a short paragraph – it’s entirely up to you. Then each day, nominate another blogger to carry on this challenge. Accepting the challenge is entirely up to the person nominated, it is not a command.

Today, I nominate Izzy from Izzy-grabs-life.

World Domination Foiled

Lynn from Word Shamble has invited me to join in with Five Photos, Five Stories. How can I say no when I’m perpetually on the look-out for story prompts? Thank you, Lynn!

The Five Photos, Five Stories Challenge rules require you to post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or simply a short paragraph – it’s entirely up to you. Then each day, nominate another blogger to carry on this challenge. Accepting the challenge is entirely up to the person nominated, it is not a command.

Today, I nominate Samantha from fictionwriterwithablog.

Five Photos, Five Stories – Day 1: World Domination Foiled

The Cat, pretending to be harmless

 

You’ve practised your evil laugh all night. You bestow it on the delivery man as he hands over the package. He doesn’t recoil in fear. But he’s probably seen all sorts.

You unpack the suits, place two on hangers, put on the third. You instantly look ten times more menacing. The delivery man would quiver, could he hear your evil laugh now.

Bianca hisses as you pick her up. Doesn’t produce the effect you hoped for. Your dark Saville Row suit, covered in cat hair.

So that’s why Blofield wore such ghastly white.

You drop Bianca before she claws you.

Victoria Park Bandstand, March 2027

(c) David Stewart

‘Promise you’ll leave, Mum. The water’s coming.’

I remember my disbelief at Lena’s words even as I promised her.

I still cannot believe it. Lena used to ride her tricycle round the bandstand for hours. Later, I took her here to practice the tuba. It doesn’t seem so long ago.

The water is swallowing the first step of the bandstand.

‘It’ll flood half of London,’ Lena said.

She didn’t say where she’d gone.

‘I’m safe. I want you to be safe, too.’

But I don’t believe anywhere is safe anymore. Here, at least, I’ve got memories to keep me distracted.

***

What a lovely photo for Friday Fictioneers this week, and look at all the stories it’s inspired.

Morag

When James suggests a monster hunt, everyone cheers. Drunk, the lot of them – it would be a bad idea on any lake. I can’t allow it. I take Jim aside.

‘Chill, Mo, it’ll be a laugh.’

‘You ought to know better, Jimmy.’

‘Jimmy? The savages call you Jimmy,’ one of his new friends booms.

I wait for James to tell posh lad off. He doesn’t.

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘Don’t be so dour, Morag. You’re such a stereotype.’

I watch them row onto the Loch.

’All yours, but don’t hurt Jimmy too much,’ I whisper into the water.

The Hard Way

‘Do we have to hide on the roof?’

‘Drop it.’

‘Window’s open. I could jump in, be done in no time.’

‘Target might have company.’

She tunes out the traffic noise, focuses on the first floor flat.

‘One person.’

Isolating the target’s scent’s trickier, takes a few seconds.

‘It’s her.’

‘We’ve set up. We’ll watch and wait.’

‘Why? It’s too hot.’

‘Because I say so.’

She swallows her anger. He wants her to get thirsty. He wants to coax out the savage she’s trying to subdue.

She could kill him instead. Tantalising thought.

If only she didn’t depend on him.

***

Scarlett‘s making her second appearance on FFfAW. She’ll be back again, no doubt. Find out what everyone else is writing here.

Anyone Miss Me?

If I left tomorrow, would anyone even know?

Only one way to find out: I get in early, hide in the cabinet behind my desk and wait. Could have left it much later. I wish I’d made a cup of tea. If I had, though, I’d need the loo long before lunch.

***

I wake up, trapped in a dark, confined space. I scream. Someone knocks on my prison.

‘Karen? Everything okay in there?’

Oh blast.

‘Fine. Just looking for something.’

‘Brilliant. My report ready?’

‘Almost.’

‘Brilliant.’

That’s a no, then. If I stay in my cabinet, will anyone fire me?

Team Building

(c) Barbara W. Beacham

When the team heard the dam explode, they knew they had limited time to make it to safety.

Mario froze. Gina had to take over. She didn’t have a clue what to do, but the others looked at her as Mario’s deputy for instructions. Rafting had been Mario’s idea. Nobody else had been keen, but Mario’d ignored their protest. In didn’t surprise Gina that the team building exercise had turned into business as usual with added mortal danger.

Gina took in their surroundings. The meadows on the right sloped downwards. They’d have to get out in between the rocks on the left bank.

If they made it out of this alive, Gina promised herself she’d instigate a mutiny.

***

It’s Monday, so I’m finishing the story. And I’m not alone – check out how others have finished their stories.

Thanks, James Cameron

‘Wake up, Rose.’

Rose doesn’t stir. She pretends she’s sleeping.

‘I had a nightmare, Rose.’

Jack’s shaking her. She opens her eyes.

‘Let me guess,’ she says. Jack isn’t listening.

‘We didn’t make it into a lifeboat. Noise. Freezing water. Then silence. Felt like a memory.’

‘Jack Dawson and Rose DeWitt didn’t exist. Look it up online. We’re not their re-incarnations.’

‘How d’you know? There may have been a real Rose and Jack.’

‘Then how come you’ve only had that dream since we watched Titanic?’

Jack shrugs.

‘I needed a trigger.’

Rose wishes they were called Sarah and Kyle.