Photo credit@ Google’s Pegman took a walk in Edinburgh.
For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.
I rarely write a preface to my work and I never apologize for my muse (or my abuse of the word limit) but this fiction deals with a mature adult subject. I am reminded that kindness doesn’t have to come with a fancy label and we should applaud kindness in its many forms.
A Stray Kindness
by T. Delaplain
That shiner’s gonna need ice. You been out long, got anywhere to go? Come on then, I’ve gotta back door friend at the pub around the corner. He’ll have ice and he’s a sucker for strays. Continue Reading
Photo by Shaktiki Sharma
Life As We Know It
by T. Delaplain
Peter accelerated through the last red light, screeched to a stop and held the wailing twins in place with his right arm. The barking mutt, who had refused to leave the infants, took the opportunity to dash under his feet as he reached into the glove box for his transmitter, causing Peter to lift his foot off of the brake of the motorized vehicle he had stolen during the confusion. The subsequent collision and damage to the portal couldn’t have been predicted, but in Peter’s defense the mission in the Walmart parking lot had not gone quite as planned.
For more Friday Fictioneers 100 word adventures go here. You can find our host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ trilogy at Amazon. This is not an affiliate link. I just want you to enjoy her fabulous novels.
Photo Credit at Roger Bultot
The Theory of Pie: Start in the Center
Jane pushed her fork through the buttery crust, separating each flaky layer with precision. “I always taste the center peak first, you cain’t hide your mistakes there.” The pippin was draped in syrup, cinnamon and an exotic spice Jane couldn’t quite name. The apple’s soft exterior yielded with the slightest crunch at its core. Continue Reading
Photo by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The Way to My Heart
“Shut the damn door and take off those muddy boots,” I shouted over the kitchen chaos with an authority that had not been earned. The second batch of blackened biscuits lay crumbled next to my Momma’s recipe box and the bitter winter turnip stew was boiling over in defiance. I swiped a stray bang behind my ear and straightened the crisp apron your aunt had tucked into my hand as we’d left the chapel. You stomped the snow off your boots and tilted your Stetson, revealing a shy smile.
“Something smells mighty good, Wife.”
For more Friday Fictioneer’s tales go here.
Our lovely host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields will give you 100 words to round up your story. Rochelle’s third book was published last week. You can find all of her books here.
Imagine by Lucy Fridkin
Vas Con Dios
The playa was quiet, a lazy wave lapped the sand and a gull called down the sun. The salt from the sea and the sweat of the afternoon mingled. The courtship had been fast by design: a smoldering glance and a short skirt.
Not nearly enough time to savor the revenge. Continue Reading