A short story …

For Friday Fictioneers

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ROSEY LARGE BWPMy friend Rosey loves the snow, so she went for a slippery stroll in the park.  

She spotted two kids from her class at school feeding the ducks, Cheeky Charley and Mischievous Millie. Just for a laugh, she threw snowballs at them. Mistake! They bombarded her in return. Turning her back, she found herself facing two more little devils, Giggly Grace and Joker Jack who joined in the fun!

‘Hey kids, stop that’ called one of their Mums and off they scarpered.

‘Bye Miss Snosey’ Charley shouted!

She looked like a living snowman but she didn’t mind, she’d loved every minute of it!

 

last-rose-dale. (1)Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and to Dale for the picture.

Click on Froggie to join in the funcfffffffffffffff

 

A few scattered words …

for Friday Fictioneers

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Arthur loved wildflowers.

Cornflowers, foxgloves, harebells.

Often he’d gather a few, tie them with a ribbon and hand them to a passing stranger.

Columbine, thrift, ragged robin.

He’d hold a buttercup beneath a child’s chin, if their skin glowed yellow he knew they liked butter! He was a great believer in folklore.

On the village green, amid a carpet of blossom sits a wooden bench. The villagers placed it there after he passed, beneath the cherry tree that he and his wife Florence adored. They mixed wildflower seeds with his ashes and scattered them there.

Daisies, cowslips, poppies.

Arthur loved wildflowers.

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A1vFor the A-Z Challenge in 2017, I wrote a story each day about the fictional village of Amble Bay. Arthur featured in most of them, but sadly he died in the final instalment. You can read it HERE should you so wish!

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postalThanks to Rochelle for hosting and to Ted Strutz for the photo.

Click Froggie to join in the fun!

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A flash of fiction …

for Friday Fictioneers

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A twiddle of her earlobe means she’s about to become profound.

‘I’ve been travelling the train-track of life’ she said.

‘What?

‘Starts, stops, rises and falls’

‘So …’

‘It made decisions for me’

‘Okay’

‘Then suddenly …’

‘Yes? ‘

‘…it came to an end’

‘Really?’ 

‘Left me dangling’

‘Oh dear

‘It was a message’

‘A message?’

‘Time to get off, choose my own destinations’

‘Did you?’

‘Of course. I’m a different person now’

‘You look the same to me’

‘Within, not without’

‘Oh’

‘For a start, I’m having curry tonight not my usual Chinese!’

‘Wow!’

‘Yea, join me?’

‘Can’t, got a train to catch’

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alicia-jamtaas-photoThanks to Rochelle for hosting and to Alicia Jamtaas for the picture.

Click Froggie to join in the fun!

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And finally – I came across Froggie in the park yesterday looking rather chilly!

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PS. Don’t worry, it’s a sculpture!

A short story …

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for Ragtag Daily Prompt which today is hosted by gizzylaw and the given word is Homecoming.

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It was a sentimental journey. A journey back in time. She searched for the street. Was it here? No, perhaps it was around that corner over there. Yes, back home at last, back to the street in which she grew up. Back to the street filled with memories, happy memories because she was happy then.

But it wasn’t the street she remembered. Those apartments weren’t there back then, Auntie Julie was. And over there, what happened to Jamey’s house? It didn’t look like the one that stood there now. Jamey’s house was a friendly house that smiled. This was a cube which frowned. What happened to Jamey?

She’d played in this street. Marbles, hopscotch, chase … ‘you’re it’! She remembered the time they played ball and she kicked it through Mrs Mason’s window. The sound of breaking glass rang in her ears as the memories flooded back. But Mrs Mason’s house was no longer there. They’d run away and hid behind the massive oak tree on the corner, that corner over there. What happened to the oak tree, why was it gone?

As she turned the bend in the road a terrace came into view. Her heart leapt. It was the row of houses where she’d lived. Her little house was still there, right in the middle. She walked a little faster and then began to run. Her mind filled with images and her ears filled with sounds. Sounds of laughter, for she was happy there. Oh, how she longed to feel Tibbles the fat black cat brush against her legs. She so wanted to hear the chiming bells of the ice cream van as it sat across the street.

But why were there boards over the windows? Why wasn’t grumpy Mrs Brown next door peeping out from behind her net curtains? Why couldn’t she see the bright yellow door on the house she grew up in? Why did it say ‘Keep out, condemned’ where her door used to be?

Condemned. She’d returned to her street to relive her memories. It had been the only place she’d ever been happy. Since she left, her life was condemned. Tragedy, sadness and despair waited around every corner. Now it was as if her happy memories were condemned too.

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A flash of fiction …

for Friday Fictioneers

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I work in a soulless office performing mind-numbing chores. My colleagues think I’m boring. Little do they know that come nightfall I swap clerking for twerking!

How do I look? Lipstick’s perfect. My bouffant? Another swoosh of hairspray I think. Off with my cardigan and slippers, on with my slinky dress and highest heels.  I’m on my way!

My favourite club. The noise, the lights, the people! Look, there’s handsome Rob from work chatting up Sally from accounts. Called me dreary yesterday. What’ll he make of me now? Move over gall, I’m coming!

I need a pee first.  I must remember to use the lady’s room not the men’s!

 

trish-nankivells-rollThanks to Rochelle for hosting and to Trish Nankivell for the picture.

Click on Froggies to join in the fun.

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