Will March come in like a lion or a lamb? No matter. It’s a new month to gather and write. So bring out the pencils, the pens, desktops, laptops and any other implements of construction. Let your imagination soar as you wrestle one hundred words into submission because it’s time for
FRIDAY FICTIONEERS!
**We set a new record last week with 105 postings!**
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).Thanks to Blogspot bloggers for disabling their CAPTCHAs.
- 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.
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My story will follow the prompt for those who might be distracted by reading a story before writing their own . I enjoy your comments.
This week’s prompt comes from Beth Carter who took a first prize with it at the Ozarks Writers League photo contest in February. Congratulations, Beth!
Genre: Literary Fiction
Word count: 100
PACK RAT
Boxes overflowing with rusted ten-penny nails, camping equipment and car parts cluttered the garage. Judith hated the chaos, but other things got in the way of Greg’s promise to organize until the day he deserted her.
It took months to sort through the cardboard jungle.
Then she came across a crate with “Judith” painted on the lid. In it she found her class ring, his first speeding ticket and a bottle of cognac—same vintage they’d shared on their honeymoon.
A note in his uneven scrawl read,
“Damned cancer. Wish I were there to toast forty of my happiest years.”