Friday Fictioneers – Time Church

 

He was mobbed by the sweltering crowd as he weaved his way through the crowd. He didn’t know what time his portable time machine had taken him to; but he had to be fast. The Time Police were capable of tracking his time activity, and it was only a matter of time before they caught up to him.

Going at this rate, they’d catch him any moment now. He decided to escape the crowd and duck into the pristine church.

Silence. He took the nearest door out of the room and sprinted up the stairs.

At the top he could see everything.

Friday Fictioneers – Heights

She laughed bitterly.

He turned to her. “What?”

She gripped the edge, her palm pressing into the cold metal, as they waited to be rescued. But she was not the kind of girl who got rescued, she was the kind  always fending for herself.

“It would be so easy…” she said, sour giggles breaking out against tears. “Even if we’re not that high up, it would be easy… to throw myself off. Oh, I wouldn’t plunge and die, no…” her smile widened, “no… but the pain, the pain… not enough to die…” She broke down.

“Don’t,” he said.

“I know.”

—

For Friday Fictioneers.

Friday Fictioneers – Rebel

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s a motorbike.”

“No,” scoffed Jeremy. “That’s a hunk of metal.”

“Isn’t this gang about rebellion? Well, I’m just fighting the system here. I made this with my own hands. I think it looks cool. I’m proud of it.”

“What about all those sharp edges? Rebellion’s one thing, but you show up at the club on that thing, you’re gonna be the village idiot.”

“Oh, yeah? Just you watch me! They’re gonna love it!”

He really wished he hadn’t. It was one of the stupidest things he ever did on that bike. There was a riot…

—

Flash fiction for Friday Fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers – Starting Over

I woke to the worst disaster in history.

My heart jolted as my eyes opened to the inside of a tent.

“I think she’s awake,” said someone just outside. Dad? He poked his head in, smiling. “You awake? It’s almost one.”

“You dragged me camping?”

“A storm hit early this morning. You wouldn’t wake up, so we had to carry you. The cyclone destroyed half the coast; we had to move inland.”

“Where are we?”

“Come out and see.”

I poked my head outside. Fields all around; there was a horse behind a rabbit proof fence.

“Great.”

—

Flash fiction for Friday Fictioneers.

Friday Fictioneers – Self-Made

“I rebuilt this mostly from scratch. I didn’t have money for a lot of the parts, but hey,” he said, taking one last long drag from his cigarette and stamping it into the ground, “she still runs. At least she’s got a decent engine!”

“I don’t know,” Zach said. “It looks kind of dodgy. I really need a decent car to get me there.” He watched this guy carefully, nerves trembling through his heartbeat.

“It’ll get you there and back without breaking a sweat!” He pulled the sign out of the car vigorously. “It’s my everyday car. Just bring her back to the shop.”

He was desperate. “I’ll take it.”

Friday Fictioneers – Dilapidated

The farm had failed years ago. The owners had just picked up one day and left. Not even the real estate market wanted it.

She had grown up next to it. She always wanted to explore what was inside, but of course her parents didn’t allow her to. She was a good little girl.

The neighbourhood boys didn’t care what their parents told them, they just went wherever they wanted. She tried to find out about the farmhouse, but they bragged and refused. It was too much for her; she had to see.

She wished she hadn’t. They bullrushed her as soon as she did.

—

Friday Fictioneer‘s prompt.

Friday Fictioneers – Airport

She picked at the crust in her eyes. When she woke up at four this morning, she had been so bleary-eyed that she’d had to wipe at her eyes just to open them. It had been hell getting up so early.

Now she was only picking at the smallest pieces still left in the corners. She probably didn’t need to, but the thought bugged her.

But here she was! 6 am, looking out over the airfield. Any minute now, she would be boarding the airplane, and she could finally sleep.

In five hours, she would finally reunite with her father. These past ten years had been more hell than this morning. It would finally be over…

Friday Fictioneers – Art

“Is this yours?” asked Christie as she came strolling through the trail.

The old woman smiled at her. “Why yes. It’s a sculpture of my two twins. They left home years ago.”

“Is it lonely, living out here by yourself? Living in the middle of the forest…”

“No, it’s not lonely. I mean, sometimes it is, but I get by.”

“Well, I admire you. I could never do this, living out in the middle of nowhere like this,” said Christie.

“Oh, it’s not so bad. Occasionally, hikers like yourself come through. I’m not lonely.”

Christie looked back on the trail. She still wasn’t sure…

—

My response for Friday Fictioneers.

Friday Fictioneers – New Year In Bangkok

“What an exotic New Year…” she whispered, gazing in awe at the sky.

“Perfect,” her husband said beside her. “Sitting on the dock of the bay… with you.”

She smiled, looking at him briefly. “You’re cute.”

“You’re perfect.”

She looked at him again, for longer this time. “It’s a perfect vacation. Thank you.” She leaned in, settling into his neck.

He stroked her hair, and she angled up to see the fireworks.

“Forget about them,” he said. “Just be with me.”

“I am with you. I’ve been with you for five years.”

“Still. Humour me.”

She smiled at him. “Sure.”

—

One of my rare Friday Fictioneers pieces. 🙂 For some reason, this picture looked like a foreign south-east Asian city, like Bangkok or Singapore. So I went with that.

Friday Fictioneers – Wicked

He was an ancient creature, living in a ghost world parallel to our own.

He envied the ghosts that stayed behind, tied to the earth by mourners, so loved that they were trapped. He was alone in his envy. He was surrounded by shadows, longing to return to the world of the living.

He watched them in his bowl of liquid silver, tempted every moment, longing for a world he could touch.

He dived in…

But he didn’t belong here. His face froze in the bowl, halfway between two worlds, waiting to be touched again, waiting to enter their forbidden world.

—

Prompt from the Friday Fictioneers.