Friday Fictioneers!

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Find the prompt here to join in: https://rochellewisoff.com/2022/03/23/25-march-2022/

Hidden

A shadow lurked in the hidden recess of the abandoned doorway. No one would see him here, nor would they think they had to look for anything. He had the city glued to his every movement, his every activity but they hadn’t been able to find any clues as to who this man was who was taking innocent women from their homes and leaving them for dead in the ruins.
What he didn’t foresee was what would become of his next victim. She was stronger than most and she would survive his torture, so that she could bring him in. 

©2022 CBialczak Fiction

Friday Fictioneers

To join in visit Rochelle’s site: https://rochellewisoff.com/2022/03/09/11-march-2022/

This weeks photo:

Up upon a wooded hill
inside a wooden shack
stone makes up the front walls
and mud holds up the back

Its here that mother nature
can rest her head in Spring
working hard all winter
So we hear robins sing

And in this house so little
a being waits inside
letting Mother Nature be
alone, and for he’ll hide

And when it’s time to come out
the weather’s turned up warm
He cleans up all the old debris
and any from the storms

The yard never gets pretty
it stays plain like his home
but happy is this little one
The little garden gnome.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Friday Fictioneers

Rochelle host Friday Fictioneers: https://rochellewisoff.com/2022/03/02/4-march-2022/

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Mikey, move to the left a little. No, step back a tiny bit. Yes, stay there! Okay, now put your hands up in front of you…Awesome, lean in a little, like you are actually holding it up.

Dad, this is the same picture that every tourist takes here.

No, this will be different. Let’s make it different.

Dad, how can you make this different? 

Trust me, Mikey. Okay now bring your knee up. 

What do you mean bring my knee up?

Like you need your knee to help you hold up the tower. 

Dad this is so dumb

Smile!

©2022 CBialczak Fiction

Friday Fictioneers

Rochelle is the host: https://rochellewisoff.com/2022/02/09/11-february-2021/

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Go ahead Billy, if you think it’s such a good idea. 

No way, I’m not opening the door. I didn’t say it was a good idea I just said maybe he left some money in it or something. 

By the smell of it he must have left his lunch in it, it smells disgusting!

That’s a strong smell for an old, rotting lunch. My lunch has never smelled that bad even when I’ve forgotten it in my backpack for the weekend. 

Well, what is that smell then?

I don’t know. Like I said, go open the door and we’ll see. 

©2022 CBialczak Fiction

Friday Fictioneers

Rochelle is the host of Friday Fictioneers

Marcia walked in and saw that all the tables on the perimeter were taken. Inside she cringed. She really didn’t want to meet Brian, her blind date, and be seated in the center of all the people. She didn’t know what he looked like or what they would even talk about! How embarrassing if they sit there silently eating their meal in front of everyone. She would feel awkward. It felt like if you were going to sit where you were the center of attention you should at least look like you are happy and having fun. (100 words)

©2022 CBialczak Fiction

Friday Fictioneers

https://rochellewisoff.com/2022/01/12/14-january-2022/

Rochelle is the host of Friday Fictioneers!

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A New Day

From my window I could see the water lapping upon the shore, hear the surf hitting the land, smell the salty water. I was here to relax, to enjoy time by myself, to take time to reflect upon the last year that held so many feelings and memories. So I sat. I watched the water move by itself. I thought of all the days I have lived, the people who I have loved, and the things I have done. There is some regret and some sadness but today is the day I will open my eyes to a new beginning.

©2022 CBialczak Fiction

Friday Fictioneers

Visit Rochelle’s site to participate

Marcus walked up to the table with some apprehension.
“Is someone sitting here?”
He noticed the other glasses on the table.

“Nope, go ahead,” replied Veva, not moving her eyes away from the newspaper in front of her.

“Do you eat here often?”

“Nope, first time,” replied Veva; again not making any move to look up.

“What did you order?”

“Sorry, but don’t you see I’m trying to eat?” Veva asked.

Marcus was taken aback a little but for the first time in a long time he felt more relaxed than ever.

Friday Fictioneers

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Find the prompt on Rochelle’s site: https://rochellewisoff.com/2021/06/16/18-june-2021/

My focus had been on my feet, trying to maintain my footing despite the uneven ground or large roots protruding into the path. It wasn’t until I heard the snap of a branch that I looked up and saw the root cellar. 

Slowly I approached and could hear the soft hum of a guitar. Was I hearing things? As soon as I walked around the side to the front of the building I  saw him. It was a  young boy, guitar in hand, rocking  in an old wicker rocker, singing softly to himself, eyes closed, in  his own little world. 

©2021 CBialczak

Friday Fictioneers! 11/20/20

PUBLISHED NOVEMBER 18, 2020 BY ROCHELLEWISOFF

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

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PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

Too Scared

I haven’t taken a step outdoors in months. What if the virus is just floating in the air around my home? The plants are growing in my walkway, a walkway that hasn’t been used. The sun is shining, I should be outdoors. Is it safer in the sun or in the shade? Does sun kill the virus or does the lower temperatures? Is it here on the railing, where the postman placed his hand as he delivered my letters yesterday? Although I stand here, door open, sun shining, I cannot get myself to step onto the stoop. I’m too scared.   (100 words)

©2020 CBialczak Flash Fiction

Friday Fictioneers 16th October

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https://rochellewisoff.com/2020/10/14/16-octobetr-2020/

The Boy’s Boat

Mom, mom! Look, it’s the boat I want! 

Jimmy, first of all, that boat isn’t for sale. Secondly, do you really want a pink boat? 

Mom, It is beautiful. It is the color of a precious rose or a newborn baby girl’s blanket! 

Jimmy, when have you seen a rose that color? 

The last time Dad brought you roses. 

Um, I don’t think you were even born then… 

Okay, it’s like the roses Dad pointed to and said you would like. 

Well, that sounds closer to the truth! Now, what about this baby blanket? Since when were you paying attention to the “blue is for boys, pink is for girls” stuff? 

I’m not. Why? 

You said pink like a newborn baby girl’s blanket. 

Oh, yeah well, I’ve never seen a baby boy. 

Ah, anyhow the boat isn’t for sale. 

Well, someday I want a pink boat just like that someday! 

©2020 CBialczak Fiction