Friday Fictioneers – A Memory…A Fear…Glad I am Older

Friday Fictioneers is here again.  100 words – full story – based on photo prompt.  Run by Rochelle.

When was growing up, I was fortunate enough to know 5 of my great grandparents, the last one passing when I was about 16.  Mom’s  grandparents (4) were from Kentucky and we would visit them a few times a year.  One of them lived very high up in the mountains, used 2 horses or mules to pull his plow to plant and harvest his small tobacco field.  He would also milk his cow every day.  The story below is not fully true, but did come from some memories and fears combined when I was young.  Enjoy!

Photo provided by PHOTO PROMPT © What’s His Name

Well, Crap

Little Timmy walked the poorly-lit path toward the outhouse of his great grandparents. The weeds were taller than Timmy and he could no longer see the house when he glanced back. He heard the large bumble bees on the weeds. The 25 yard trek seemed to take forever.

Finally arriving, Timmy settled in and prepared to sit over the pitch-colored hole. A noise got his attention and he looked in the dark corner at a five-foot rattlesnake on the floor of the small building. Tommy made it back to the house before realizing his pants were still in the outhouse.

Word Count: 100

Thanks for reading and commenting.

Namaste,

Scott

Mondays Finish the Story – “A Room with a View” PG13 Humerous

Barbara brings us “Mondays Finish the Story.”  Photo prompt below and 1st line given is in bold.  My story follows, the rest > HERE < Enjoy!

Source: http://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/ Reuse License Assumed.

Mondays Finish the Story

By Scott L Vannatter – November 20, 2014 (136 words)

“When I rented the room, I did not think it would be this one!” Said Johnson Arondi, looking at the doorway to the outhouse he had, apparently paid for.  He looked somewhat disgusted.  He had answered an ad for a spacious room in a quiet, nature-view area where he could commute for his three college classes and the full-time job in the downtown factory.  Granted it was quiet and in a nature-view area.  The commute was less than 45 minutes, but spacious?

“It had better be real clean!” he muttered opening the door.  Inside was a clean staircase.  Intrigued he walked down about twelve feet and into a room the size of most apartments.  It was furnished and well-lit, sealed from sound, and clean to the point of obsession.

“I knew it would be great,” he thought lying on the couch and flipping the remote to the 60 inch screen.

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Namaste,

Scott

Five Sentence Fiction – Lillie McFerrin – FSF – “Travel” – 8/22/13 – Rated “PG13 – R”

Five Sentence Fiction – Travel

August 22, 2013 Run by Lillie McFerrin

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word.

The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.

This week:  Travel

Read my story, then click on the pic above to go to the list of the rest!!!

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Lillie McFerrin – FSF – Five Sentence Fiction – Travel PG13-R

By Scott L Vannatter

Springham sat in front of the Joint Chiefs of Staff while he mentally prepared for his travel session into the secret vault of the high mountain Russian Hold in which four people had died in order to find the blueprints and, thus, a way for Springham, a reputed teleporter, to hold an image of the room in his mind.

He did better with actual pictures or places he had previously visited, however, with concentration, he was picturing the vault and an area where, hopefully, nothing solid would have been placed as that would spell his doom.

This demonstration of his power would both serve the purpose of showing his ability to the Joint Chiefs (who were skeptical) and find out what was contained in the Russian Vault.

“I hope he doesn’t end up in the shitter,” remarked one official.

Springham could not stop the process of his mind, so, as he began teleportation to his chosen image, a vision of his Aunt Clara’s outhouse in Topeka, Kansas appeared in his mind, and his body was found buried there some years later.

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Namaste,

Scott