WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS. 

As always, writers are encouraged to be as innovative as possible with the prompt and 100 word constraints. 

Henry David Thoreau said it best.

“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.”

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THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)

THE KEY:

Make every word count.

THE RULES:

• Copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments.
• MAKE SURE YOUR LINK IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH FICTION. (Should you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).
• •  Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
  • REMINDER: This page is “FRIDAY FICTIONEERS CENTRAL” and is NOT the place to promote political or religious views. Also, you are responsible for the content of your story and policing comments on your blog. You have the right to delete any you consider offensive.

  **Please exercise DISCRETION when commenting on a story! Be RESPECTFUL.**

  Should someone have severe or hostile differences of opinion with another person it’s my hope that the involved parties would settle their disputes in private.

• • Like us on Facebook

copyright – Indira  (follow the link to her first FF story) by way of Scott Vanatter

• To post the prompt to your page simply right click on the picture and then left click “Save image as…” This will download it to your computer. Then paste it into your blog page. Please respect the copyright and use it only for Friday Fictioneers purposes. Any other usage requires permission from the photographer. Thank you. 
• 

get the InLinkz code

EPILOGUE

            “Hard to believe you’ve been gone these many years, Alvin.” I stare at my wedding photograph taken in 1953. Or was it 1958?

            “You should see Emerson. Looks like you when we met. So handsome and sure of himself.

            “He took me to the grocery today. I got lost in the cereal aisle. Doddering old bat.

            “You’d laugh at your ‘Mrs. Intellectual’, Alvin. Can no longer understand the books I wrote.”       

            “Mom, you need your rest.” Emerson shuts off the light.

            “Please kill me.”

            “You don’t mean that.”  

            “Mean what? Tell your father to come to bed. It’s getting late.”