Bad Dog!

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Lane and Ginny collapsed onto the soft grass in the back yard. Gazing towards the sky their six year old minds began conjuring shapes from the puffy clouds passing overhead.

“Look, a bunny!” cried Ginny, pointing upwards.

A few moments later Lane exclaimed, “That’s a puppy dog!”

The dark dog-shaped cloud rumbled. A torrent of rain let loose.

Moments later the twins crashed into their kitchen, puddles of water forming around them.

“What happened to you?” chuckled their mother as she regarded her two soaking children.

Ginny and Lane looked at each other sourly.

“The puppy dog peed on us!”

Word Count: 100

[This is my entry into this weeks Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Use the photo prompt to create a short story in 100 words or less.]

~V

A Choice of Reality

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Darla gazed out at the scene displayed through her window. A lively river danced around a corner, past a pocket of trees and through the entrance to the tunnel under the bridge.

Such a lovely place, she mused. But it has no dragons.

Indeed, no dragons nor elves, dwarves, goblins or fairies. But she knew of a land that did and her heart longed to return.

Turning her eyes to the laptop on her desk, she began to type. As the words flowed, her old world melted into the new.

Chapter Four: Harland’s sword felt heavy in his hand…

Word Count: 99

[This is my entry into this weeks Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Use the photo prompt to create a short story in 100 words or less.

I think all who write fiction can relate. The worlds we create, the characters with whom we spend so much time can become so magically real. Imagination brought to life through written word is a powerful and wonderful thing.]

~V

Terror of the Seas

“Take ‘er hard to port, Mr. Roberts!” Captain Barney shouted above the crashing of the waves against the weathered boards of his ship. “She’ll not likely survive another round from the cannons!”

“Aye Cap’n,” yelled the first mate, turning the great wheel.

“Mr. Stanley, have the crew fire again as we come along side!” the captain ordered.

“Cap’n, we’ve been hit and we’re takin’ on water below,” came the reply.

A salty spray kissed the captain’s stoic face. He’d go down to Davey Jones’s locker before giving up his quarry. That Spanish galleon carried doubloons. He’d press on and give no quarter. Captain Barney Strickland had earned the title “Terror of the Seas” for a reason.

“Bring her about and prepare to fire,” he ordered as his ship lurched violently in the stormy waters.

“Cap’n Barney” called the first mate. “The tour’s leaving. Let’s go!”

“What was that Mr. Roberts?” he asked, turning his gaze from the galleon.

“I said, ‘The tour’s leaving’. Honestly Barney, your head is always in the clouds. Come on.” his wife Betty scolded.

Barney Strickland, Terror of the Seas followed dutifully behind his wife as the tour group moved on the the next museum exhibit.

Word Count: 200

[This is my entry into the Sunday Photo Fiction challenge, hosted by Alastair Forbes. Write a short story of 200 words or less from the photo prompt provided.

I wanted to pop in and see how my buddy Barney Strickland was doing. Last time we checked in, he was regaling his relatives with a story of his big kill. Check it out here: Big Game Hunter.]

~V

 

Imaginations From the Other Side

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

“At first, it looked like an ordinary marble, but it was far from it.”

Ben snatched the strange object from the ground and turned it in his hands, examining it. Strange patterns of light glowed faintly from within. Looking closer, the lights began to grow brighter. In moments, the sphere floated from his hand and that’s when he heard the voices.

“Help us Ben,” begged the small voice in his mind. “We’ve been imprisoned in the artifact for centuries. We need your help to free us.”

“Who are you?” he asked excitedly.

“We are the Enari,” said the voice. “Your kind think of us as spirits, but we are creatures from a different realm that travel between dimensions.”

“Of course I’ll help you,” he exclaimed. “I just…”

“Ben!” yelled his mother from the back porch. “Time for lunch!”

Ben looked at his marble, which was ordinary again. Mother always seemed to interrupt his imagination playtime when he was having so much fun.

Word Count: 148

[This is my entry into Monday’s Finish the Story challenge. Writers are encouraged to create a short story of 100-150 words or less based on a weekly photo prompt and opening line.]

~V