Stories written for the Sunday Photo Fiction Challenge
December 25, 2146, Seaside Village, Historic North Carolina In gray stockings and a wool dress draped around her ankles, eleven-year-old Lula opened the door and stepped out of the two-bedroom rambler she and her parents have called home all their lives. Sucking in a deep breath, Lula glanced around the white-washed, orange-roof village. It had…
“No,” Manny said, sitting on the bed with his arms folded, “No way I’m flying. It’s only to Boise, can’t we just save some money and drove there? I’ll bet it’s quicker than go through customs and bag check.”
Harry sprinted up the stairs and back down a moment later.
As his consciousness surfaced, Jack opened his eyes to see a woman smiling back at him. He gasped, “Who are you?”, scooting as far back as he could go.
“Oh shut up.” I mutter and turn off my phone. My family or shall I say my mother’s family has been calling alternately, wanting to know where I am.
“Catch me if you can.” Kristy smiled.
Note: My mom’s family are immigrating to the U.S. from China and they are supposed to come at the end of this year or early next year. They are all moving into my house and these are thoughts I predict I will be having (though probably not during late-night showers) since there will be 7 other people…
Lydia grabs the photo on the fireplace mantle. The photo shows a little girl in the garden.
“There are so many twists and turns in life.” Susanna says, “and when life serves you a lemon, you will try to make the best lemonade there is.” She chuckles nervously while the camera-guy stares at her with confusion.
“Mister, are you all right?” I looked down and saw a little girl pulling at my pant leg.
I shut my eyes, trying to think back to the dream I had the previous night.
Based partially on my real life…
September 29, 2016 Dear Autumn, I want to thank you. Because of you, I met the most perfect guy today. It was while I was walking in the park, admiring the trees’ ever-changing colors. Autumn has always been my favorite season. I guess I’m attracted to dead leaves. 😄 Anyway, I was gazing up at…
“So how did you love-birds meet?” Lucy sipped her wine.
After looking at more than thirty houses in the last three months, Ed and Kendra had just about enough.
Well, this day just gets better and better, I thought sarcastically as I raced across the field where three cups perched on its wooden stands. What do I do now? Play spin the cup like a circus clown?
“Where did you go?” His girlfriend asked, arms folded, eyes narrowed, interrogation-style.
It was six decades ago when humans invaded my village.
I have visited this property once every years ever since my Uncle Billy died. Now, an empty and broken structure sitting at the corner of Main Street and First Avenue, this was once the neighborhood gathering spot and my home.
One week earlier… “Weston? What are you doing here? It’s 3 AM.” I rubbed my eyes.
As his vision slowly returned, three women stood arms folded before him, all donned in black leather.
“Honey, I’m home!” Ross ran into the house and slammed the door.
On a cold winter night, in the depth of the woods, a scream pierced the air.
