From Tree to Shining Tree – Friday Fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers – a wonderful collection of a photo-based 100 word story.  >HERE<

Picture Courtesy of Sandra Cook.

It was nearly dark, that weird time when shadows played with the minds.
The elder tree did not mind the games, but had not time at the moment.  He had a calling.

The open knothole, turned up, began to glow and a pale yellow light shot forth to the clouds.
The beam bounced off clouds, sailed from any surface, striking all other trees who responded in kind.

Slowly, they started to move, ripping their roots from the ground. Their many legs now carried them faster and faster across landscapes, crushing homes and people in their wake.

The invasion had begun…finally.

 

Word count: 100 words

Namaste,

Scott

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Birds of a Feather – Flock Me!

Friday Fictioneers, a short, 100 word, story writing adventure comes to us each week.

Joseph Martin held the Myna.  He thought about squeezing hard, the problem going away, but he hesitated; he was lost.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered.  “You guys take shiny things, but a small closed knife, 2-inch piece of pine, and 47 wood screws doesn’t make sense. What else have you taken?”

The bird cocked its head, seeming comprehension.  It let out a bird cry that could shatter glass.  Joe decided his first thought was right, beginning to squeeze.

Through the open door flew 53 Mynas, rescuing their comrade.  After, Mr. Martin lay dead, pecked to death as his wife had never done.

Word Count: 100 PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy

You Don’t Know Jack

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He sat atop a hill near the town, looking it over in the way he had.  It wasn’t quite a sneer, but most folks would say it was.  He was watching the soft white tufts as they floated quietly down on the burg, blanketing it.  It was a light falling, building up only about 1/8 inch an hour or so.  He smiled quietly to himself, the sneer growing more pronounced.  It etched into his long face.

“Yep.  Soft white beautiful flakes.  So innocent.  Let’s see what they think of it in about 90 days!”  He laughed.  “Gotta live up to my name!”

Word Count: 100

Photo Credit to Sarah Potter for this week’s Friday Fictioneers.

*Unfortunately, I missed this one.  So, here it is, late, but still…

Namaste,

Scott

A Ghost of a Chance – Flash Fiction 150 Word Max

“It’s a ghost town, Carol. You know, nothng living, just ghosts hanging about.” Jack snorted just a bit as they approached the vacant, unused buildings that used to make up Tindertown.

“I know that, but I don’t want to stop there!” She didn’t shreik but he thought she might.

He accelerated just a bit coming round the corner to the town. A figure stepped out in front of the vehicle and Jack managed to swing the car to the left, but not enough to miss the person.

“Jack!”

He hit the brake, looking in the mirror at … nothing.

“I must have been seeing things,” he said trying not to let his shivers show.

“No,” said Carol, “you weren’t.”

Jack followed her eyes, using the mirror to see the pasty-white translucent figure sitting in the back seat…smiling.

Neither Jack nor Carol saw the oncoming semi until it was too late.

Word Count – 150 Words

Friday Fictioneers – By the Light of the Silvery Moon

This week’s photo prompt comes to us from Ted Strutz.

He stood on the deck knowing, dreading, and loving all at the same time.  He removed his shirt.  The biggest problem, he knew, would be the water.  He didn’t like the water, especially, now.  The all too familiar tingle and fever started.  He felt the sweat rise on his brow.  Below he heard the dancing and gaiety centering on the bride and groom, his neighbors and friends.

9:41pm he could not longer think.  It happened quickly.  The growl escaped his throat and he smelled the air, the night, and the blood.  He headed downstairs and screaming started.

 

100 words – Namaste,  Scott

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