On the Street Where I Live

You know how you try to take the perfect picture of the sunset, but you live in the city and you just can’t get it without including the houses and cars parked on your street? It didn’t stop me from trying. However, I actually think the pictures with the houses and cars turned out better. What do you think?

Then there’s the one where you just decide to embrace it and even add a little crazy of your own by flipping things a little bit.


Thanks to my friend over at This, That and the Other for a great prompt that I was thinking about doing on my own but apparently just needed someone else to post a prompt in order to accomplish.

Sunday Photo Fiction (on Monday) – Target Practice


© Dawn Miller

Staring down the barrel, I spot the china cups, pausing on each one to take a deep breath in through my nose and slowly blow it out through my mouth.

Too easy.

I take a few steps back and repeat the process, this time adding the additional target. The excitement builds in my gut and almost explodes out my fingertips. Shit! I almost pull the trigger, but I pull up just in time. The anticipation just might kill me, but it’s oh so sweet.

The air around me is still and I hear a bird singing in the trees above me. I can’t help but think it’s the perfect afternoon. I walk back to the table to take a sip of the tea I brewed earlier. It’s cooled down now, but it still manages to calm the blood that seems to be pulsing through my veins.

I hear a strange rustling and look up. The woman tied to the trellis next to the line of china cups is squirming. I can’t imagine why. The blindfold is still in place.

Smiling, I slowly place the cup on the table and pick up the gun.

Let the entertainment begin.


The rules for Sunday Photo Fiction are to create a story or poem using around 200 words with the photo as a guide, although it doesn’t have to be center stage.  This one comes in at 198 words.

Click the blue froggy link to read other amazing stories!

Happy Monday!

Sunday Photo Fiction – The Waking Dream


© A Mixed Bag 2009

“I saw that face again,” Jon remarked to his roommate.

“What, like in here?” Andy didn’t look up from his computer.

“No, it was a dream. But still…”

Andy kept playing his game and after a few minutes, Jon sighed and walked away.

**

As Jon drove home, he couldn’t stop yawning. He’d stayed longer than he was scheduled and he was drained. It didn’t help that he wasn’t sleeping.

He came to a stop at the next red light and started awake two seconds later. He looked up, grateful to see that the light was green. He pressed on the accelerator, but just as he pulled forward, he saw the face again. It was on the corner of the street, its body enveloped in darkness.

Jon slammed on his breaks, his heart pounding in his ears. When he looked again, it was gone.

**

Hunched in the corner of the interrogation room, Jon kept his arms folded and his mouth shut. He knew that if he told them, they were sure to lock him up forever.

The wispy voice rang in his ears, taunting him. The face hovered two inches in front of him.

“Kill them, Jon. Kill them all.”


The rules for Sunday Photo Fiction are to create a story/poem or something using around 200 words with the photo as a guide, although it doesn’t have to be center stage.  This one comes in at 201 words.

 

Click the blue froggy link to read other amazing stories!

Happy Sunday!

Sunday Photo Fiction – The Town Bogeyman

© Mike Vore

“Don’t be such a scaredy cat, Lily!” Amber called to her friend who was at least twenty feet behind her and Debbie.

“Can you blame her?” Debbie said.

“Oh, not you too! “ Amber stopped in the middle of the road and placed her hands on her hips.  “Should we just turn back, then?”

Debbie stopped, turned back to look at Lily who was just catching up, and gnawed on a fingernail.  “I don’t know.  It’s late and…”

“…and after those stories you told, who wouldn’t be freaked?” Lily finished for Debbie.

Amber laughed.  “Guys, they were made up!”

**

The sky was just beginning to show signs of daybreak when they made it to the house.  Boarded up, overgrown with weeds, it had become the town bogeyman.  Amber was the first to walk up the stairs.

“What was that?” Lily’s voice caught in her throat and she came to a sudden halt at the bottom of the stairs.

“It was the stairs, dummy.  They’re old.”  Amber rolled her eyes and walked up to the window.  Just as she placed her hands on the slit between the boards, an ear-shattering scream blasted the silence.

Amber didn’t think, she ran.  Tripping down the stairs, she landed on her butt, but was up again and racing for home before her friends could react.


The rules for Sunday Photo Fiction are to create a story/poem or something using around 200 words with the photo as a guide, although it doesn’t have to be center stage.  This one comes in at 221 words.

Click the blue froggy link to read other amazing stories!

Happy Sunday!

Sunday Photo Fiction – The Dragon’s Birth

© A Mixed Bag 2011

“Princess, what are you hiding behind your back?”

Amyris could never keep anything from her Governess, that much was certain.  “You can’t make me tell,” she yelled.  She turned and ran to her chamber, banging the door shut behind her.  Sometimes her willfulness worked, but not today.  Lady Ella was right behind her, demanding the truth.

“Promise you won’t tell?”  Amyris asked with tears in her eyes.

“As you wish,” Lady Ella acknowledged as she sat down on the bed beside Amyris.  She gasped when she saw the item her charge held gently in her hands. “A dragon’s egg,” she whispered.

“Truly?” Amyris asked.  “Oh, how lovely!”

****

On her fifteenth name day, devastation rained.  Traitors attacked the castle and set fire to her tower.  She was in the bailey when the fire broke out, but she ran towards the tower only to be waylaid by her guards.

“You can’t go in there Princess.  All is lost.”

“No!” she screamed and sank to the ground.  “You don’t understand,” she whispered.

It was dawn before she moved again, and as she slowly made her way towards the rubble, she heard screeching cries that she first mistook for crows.  She soon realized that it was no crow making the strange noise and her life forever after was altered.


The rules for Sunday Photo Fiction are to create a story/poem or something using around 200 words with the photo as a guide, although it doesn’t have to be center stage.  This one comes in at 216 words.

 

Click the blue froggy link to read other amazing stories!

Happy Sunday!

Sunday Photo Fiction – Wrong


© Eric Wicklund

am i bad?

It’s the mantra that plays over and over again in my head, but it isn’t long before it turns into something else.

i am bad!

The realization happens slowly and roots itself deep in my gut.  Everything validates the truth – I like it, even though I know it’s wrong; he loves me; I would do anything for him so why not this?

I saw him once with Jane.  It makes me sad, but not in a “this is wrong” sort of way.  It’s more a jealous sort of way.  Am I not enough?  What do I need to do to keep him?  It makes me try desperately harder to do the things he asks of me even though I know it’s wrong.

i am bad!

He decides to come clean first because he’s better than me.  I would have kept his secret forever.

i am bad!

Mama asks me if it’s true – “Is he hurting you?”  She asks as though it’s an easy question to answer.

Does it hurt?

No.

i am bad!

So I keep silent, but everyone knows the truth and i am bad! changes to i’m so ashamed.


The rules for Sunday Photo Fiction are to create a story/poem or something using around 200 words with the photo as a guide, although it doesn’t have to be center stage.  This dark tale comes in at 196 words.

Click the blue froggy link to read other amazing stories!

Happy Sunday!