Friday Fictioneers – The Coach

ff160714Mr Juniper lived alone at the end of Cotton Lane. The sprawling branches of an untamed Oak meant it always looked dark in there, even in summer; summer was the only time we ever went inside. He ran the athletics club, the papers said he was a state champion in his day.

We always used to change in the room at the back. Dust covered every surface. Above the blocked fireplace he had one of those big, ugly moose heads – it was a dump, but he was a good coach.

Mr Juniper now lives in the Morndale Penitentiary. I never saw the eyes move, but the jury were sure.

friday-fictioneers

These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.

Friday Fictioneers – Cold Callers

ff090714From around the corner came a man dressed in royal blue. Lifeless, red eyes at No. 39 widened behind net curtains, only to narrow as the man stopped and turned into No. 36.

Reaching a faded green door, the man in blue paused – a single finger ran down his clipboard.

Overhead angry clouds grumbled; heavy drops of rain began to fall. A flash of lightening streaked across the troubled sky.

The path to No. 36 now lay quiet; dark puddles formed in the empty street. The curtains at No. 39 fell still in despair – perhaps tomorrow would be their day.

friday-fictioneers

These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.

Friday Fictioneers – Dawn Goodbyes

ff020714‘Take care, Isi, my love,’ said Persatus, ‘and take care of our boy,’ he smiled.

Isi’s bump was becoming more pronounced by the day: it would be their first child.

Persatus hated to leave his wife, especially with the threat of more tremors. However, each month he had to travel south to make a collection. What was in the crates wasn’t his place to know or ask.

As another warm autumn Campania sun crept above the horizon, it was time to leave. It would be a full three days until he returned home to Isi; returned home to Pompeii.

friday-fictioneers

These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.

Friday Fictioneers – The Awakening

ff250614‘Wotcha found, boy?’ said Hairy Bob, as his chocolate lab, Mugwump, scrabbled at the roots of an old tree.

Stop!‘ boomed a voice from behind.

Hairy turned to see a man dressed all in white.

‘B…B…Begging yer pardons, S..Sir. My dog here thinks he’s found summit in that tree, and he ain’t never wrong, n..never,’ stuttered Bob.

Be gone!‘ the man demanded.

Only once enough distance had passed did a still shaking Bob pause for a nerve-settling swig of warm whiskey. Braving a furtive glance over his shoulder, the man in white remained by the tree; a woman in white now by his side.

‘Come on boy, let’s get outta here!’

friday-fictioneers

These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.