Down the drain


She ran down the stairs. Her momentum carried her forward when she slipped, down the last steps to the next floor. She grunted, got up, ran. No time to rub that sore knee.

The water was flowing down the steps in steady rivulets now. She hoped they’d keep the overflow valve closed just a little longer. The ocean on the top floor was tapped on a regular basis and this was the conduit for its excess water.

Right now, all she wanted was to reach that door to Carter’s world, to safety. A roar sounded way up there, crashing down the stairs. Five, six steps… She reached for the handle.


Another of my instalments in the Friday Fictioneers one hundred word story challenge. This image has been running around my head (hah!) for a couple of days now but I only found the time to write it down this morning. This time, I really hate the word limit. I would have loved to elaborate a little, telling you more about Astrid’s world as it presented itself to me. But there you have it, I must constrain myself to those 100 words or as close as I can get without sacrificing too much of the story. If I am to retain my title as a Friday Fictioneer, that is.

Check out the Grand Mistress Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog for other Friday Fictioneers contributions here. My other stories can be found in the Fiction category on my own blog, right here.

This week’s wonderful picture came courtesy of Jennifer Pendergast. Isn’t that a great name for a fantasy story? A different one, let me think on it…

Another post this weekend will show and tell why my Friday Fictioneers story turned into a Saturday morning foray into the fantastic.

Have a great weekend!



He fumbled with the door, touched the wheel with trembling fingers. He had built it using images from one of the few leafies left. A mechanic’s manual, if he’d known the words. His sisters chanted the precious beads for luck. His brother attached the miraculously pristine foh-toh-grafs of smiling girls – the mind boggled at the idea that women used to look like that.

His long hands with their seven tactile fingers briefly caressed the flaky runes, the – was it a head covering? – and turned the key. The engine fired. He exulted. No more days spent running, gathering life-sustaining fluids… It was going to save the lives of their last.


Just another day in the life of a RWF Fictioneer. That’s Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for the uninitiated: our leader who instructs us to write a one hundred word story inspired by a different image each week. We are moving towards a fictioneering movement, with 105 amazingly individual stories last week. More, perhaps, this week?

You can find Rochelle’s blog and the link to this week’s contributions here.

This week’s foh-toh-graf courtesy of Beth Carter. Thanks, Beth!

My story is 111 words this week including title. A symbolic number, perhaps?

Now, must go, must run. To test my new oh-to-moh-bil and perhaps save the world…


2013-02-22 Friday Fictioneers

‘I have nothing,’ she complained. ‘I’m sitting here, staring at this screen…‘


Disegno, Leo, sorry. Of an old, abandoned house… And I can’t think of anything.’ She sighed. It was Friday Fictioneers week three and she’d been happy with her first efforts. But now…  

‘I don’t know why you keep calling me Leo,’ he said peevishly. She turned towards the ancient mirror and said, ‘Sorry, Leonardo. I wasn’t thinking.’

The old inventor turned away. ‘Well, can’t help you. Must finish that Giocondo portrait. Her smile gives me nightmares, you know… Buona notte.’

‘So you said, Leonardo. Sogni d’oro…’


And once again, it was time for the Friday Fictioneers. To be honest, the image did nothing for me. I wrote a story. Discarded it. Could not think of a thing. So that’s where I started…

I am already quite looking forward to Wednesdays, when the excellent Rochelle Wisoff-Fields posts her chosen image for the week and challenges our nimble minds to write a one hundred-word story. (Yes, mine is 100 words exactly. Including title. And yes, I’m gloating. I’ll probably be punished for that next week.)

We have an excellent imagination between us.  No, I wouldn’t be so arrogant as to refer to myself, so go see for yourself! Click the code below to see the posts of other contributors. The link ain’t pretty (I am unable to reproduce that nifty little Inlinkz button, apparently) but it works when you click it. Sorry about that. I hope I will have it figured out next week. Help, someone?

This week’s picture was made by Janet Webb. No offence, Janet, it is not your picture’s fault I couldn’t come up with anything!

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Friday Fictioneers 15 February 2013



He reached desperately. Almost… finger just an inch from the button. The floor continuing to liquefy beneath his feet. Jason hanging on to his ankle, uttering terrified moans. Where he had stood, the floor had turned to sludge and Jason splashed in the slurry of dislocated molecules. ‘If only I had listened,’ thought Brian. ‘They told me not to mess with the universe’s structure and they were right. Of course they were.’ His leg sinking deeper, Jason spluttering now. The distance between finger and button grew. Idly, he wondered whether the ripple effect would stop at the door or…


It was time for the Friday Fictioneers already and I did not even manage to post any of the many ideas that ran through my head this week. I still get that, every so often, a couple of days where just getting out of bed and through the day seems almost too hard. But perhaps that is simply part of la condition humaine? I have stopped fighting it or blaming myself. I know it gets better again after a couple of days…

So, as for the Friday Fictioneers: The eminent researcher Rochelle Wisoff-Fields posts an image every week (see her site here) and a great big (and growing) bunch of little lab rats scurry to write a ‘one hundred word story with a beginning, middle and end’. With often excellent results because I am just in my second week and have already read many stories that made me want more, much, much more. I wonder what kind of results Rochelle is getting in her ongoing research on fiction addiction…

This week’s fascinating photograph was made by David Stewart. Go here for this week’s submissions from my fellow lab rats. Click ‘Links in collection’ below the photograph to see the links to their sites and read their stories.

Oh and Rich, including the title my contribution this week is exactly 100 words.

Friday Flash Fiction


First Light

They were the last to board.

As she ushered her children up the steps, she looked back at the limousine that had brought them here from the Mountains and waved. JK had been a good friend through this first gathering.

‘For Love and Light and the Good of the World’, the extraordinary invitation had said. She had wondered why her. ‘Ah… but you understand what the Good of the World really means. We have scientists and designers and politicians, but we were still missing Love and Light,’ said JK when asked. She supposed they knew what they were doing.

Of course, she never saw the bright golden light that surrounded her and her children. But they knew.


117 words


This is my first submission for the Friday Fictioneers. Every week the inimitable Rochelle Wisoff-Fields posts an image on her blog and challenges people from around the world to write a one hundred word word story ‘with a beginning, middle and end’ and post the link to her blog.

Admittedly my first submission is 117 words but I felt that taking away more words would have taken away from the story. I am notoriously verbose so I actually think I did quite well.

I first read about the challenge on J.K. Bradley’s blog (discover it here) after he liked one of my earlier blog posts. He wrote a creepy contribution that made me curious about the Friday Fictioneers and well… The rest is recent history. So yes, J.K., the guy in my story is named after you. I hope you are suitably flattered!

The inspiring photo for this week’s challenge came courtesy of Rich Voza. Visit Rochelle’s blog here to read some other amazing submissions. And I would welcome your comments, of course.

For the curious: ‘Gold is the color of enlightenment and divine protection. When seen within the aura, it says that the person is being guided by their highest good. It is divine guidance. Protection, wisdom, inner knowledge, spiritual mind, intuitive thinker.’

It might surprise you that I did not know this when I wrote my story. I’ll make an even crazier confession: When I was pregnant with my eldest daughter Isabeau, I/we breathed golden light. Which is whence my inspiration for this little story came.