Revolver

                                                                                Photo prompt © Jan Wayne Fields

‘I know you’re going to turn prickly but I have to admit I misled you.

‘There are some Bigfoots around here, that’s the rumour. We are going to search for Bigfoot.

They laughed thinking that it was one was his quintessential pranks. But it wasn't a prank.

They were dumbstruck. They ought to have known; he was a rabid adventurer.

‘Are you out of your mind? We don’t even have a toy-gun for protection.’

‘I have brought my father’s revolver.’

At that moment there was some commotion; there was something outside their tent. They all froze in fear.

A hairy hand entered the tent, it was holding a revolver.

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A post for Friday Fictioneers and Three Word Wednesday

Word count 108

The Master

                                                                                  Photo prompt © Bjorn Rudberg

He had not touched a musical instrument in last five years. But the music had never deserted him.

Sometimes he wondered that it was idiotic of him not to accept their proposal; they would have made him rich. He had to just tinker with his compositions. But he was fiercely passionate about his music; he had declined.

‘What a harebrained person I am?’

He was walking past the restaurant in a lackadaisical manner when he heard the sounds. Someone was playing his composition; a composition that he would not tinker with.

He felt sad for the composition; it had been mutilated.

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A post for Friday Fictioneer and Three Word Wednesday.

Word count 101

Frost

                                                                            © Photo prompt Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

‘Kid, come here; it’s amazing……unbelievable,’ the grandfather shouted.

The grandson didn’t respond; he was watching a movie.

‘You are now such an unruly boy…...always watching those violent movies,’ the old man grumbled.

He looked at the window; he felt queasy about the kid. The boy had changed.

‘What’s it grandpa?’

‘The moon…..it’s just outside the window,’ the old man pointed an exited finger towards the window.

‘Let me clean your specs,’ the boy had outgrown the little silly games they once loved to play. ‘It’s the frost on the glass.’

‘I know……but I thought,’ he wished the boy would act silly.

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A post for FridayFictioneers on a photo prompt and for Three Word Wednesday.

Word count 101

Suicide

                                                                                  Photo prompt © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

He looked at the waves. Were the waves as angry as he was? The thought surprised him.

He felt that the waves were in fact joyous, and were trying to reach him. The waves were surely ignorant of his resolve.

He had let down everyone; but more so his happy-go-lucky daughter. If only he had been more caring and less indulgent of her.

He knew he couldn’t change himself. Even if he could, it would not bring her back. He had caused her death. He must now pay for his sins.

He looked at the rocks and closed his eyes. 

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A post for FridayFictioneers on a picture prompt and

Three Word Wednesday

Word prompt- happy-go-lucky, ignorant, joyous.

Word count 100

Wild Imagination

Photo prompt © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

‘Grandpa, there’s someone in that house.’

‘No my child, it’s been vacant for ages.’

‘But I saw someone. He was there in that window, looking at me. He looked like a big toad’

‘Your imagination is running wild.’

‘Trust me, there’s someone, he looked at me, his face was wrapped in a black mask, he uncovered his face and you won’t believe what he looked like.’

‘What did he look like?’

‘He looked like a revenant.’

‘Where did you hear this word?’

‘I know.’

Grandpa looked at the child thoughtfully. Suddenly an abrupt movement in the vacant house caught his attention.

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A post for FridayFictioneers and Three Word Wednesday

Word count 101

Power Failure

                                                                                                Photo prompt © Sean Fallon

He was standing like a lifeless statue, stark naked, intently looking at a jar full of batteries.

“What happened to my tea?”

He did not react. That was enough to annoy Pixie.

“Why doesn’t he obey? Something wrong with him?” she muttered in irritation and left her bed. In anger she forgot to cover herself up.

“Now what?’ she gave him a piercing look.

He refused to react.  She got provoked and hit him on the face. She regretted her folly; she had only hurt herself.

“Power failure, no? I should have known; nothing has been right with this robot.”

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A post for FridayFictioneers (on a picture prompt) and

Three Word Wednesday (word prompts- naked, obey, piercing)

Word count 100

A Boat Ride

We were a gang of three but only one could swim. He was a cadet of the naval wing.

He borrowed a boat and took us for a ride. Unexpectedly the clouds came, wind rose and the rudder came unstuck; we could move only in circles.

There were no life-jackets. That was a fatal error. But there was a glimmer of hope for it was still not dark. 

‘Search party would come,’ he said.

But he was worried. His coach was impartial and ruthless in dealing with errant cadets; he had lied while borrowing the boat that we all could swim.

                              

(The story is based on a real life incident of school days.)

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A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt and

Three Word Wednesday; word prompts- fatal, glimmer, impartial.

Word count -101

The Antique Chandelier

The old man was always hungry; hungry for gold. Every penny he saved he invested in gold.

He was cunning and earned a lot of pennies. But he lived like a pauper and spent nothing on his orphaned grandson, Pea.

He would not tell Pea where he had hidden his gold. A deprived childhood had turned Pea into a depraved man. He threatened his grandfather who laughed and shouted, “I would rather be dead.”

In frustration, Pea sold the antique chandelier that grandfather loved, for just hundred bucks.

The old man found the chandelier missing; he became hysterical, “We’re ruined.”

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A post for Friday Fictioneers and Three Word Wednesday.

Word count 100

Treasure Hunt

                                                                                 Photo prompt-© Douglas M. Macllory

“Our misery should end now,” he said, pointing to a fish-like structure.

“Is that the treasure?” she asked in a shocked voice.

“It’s the last piece of the puzzle.”

“Who gets the privilege to unravel it?”

“Aren’t you too tired?”

“Go ahead; I can’t wait to have a look at the treasure.”

Two aliens had been watching them from their spaceship; their eyes insipid and stale.

“Will he unravel it?” said one.

“We have waited too long for the wise one,” said other.

“Let’s get ready to bring him up,” said first alien.

Second alien nodded, but not too confidently.

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A post for Friday Fictioneers and Three Word Wednesday.

Word count 100

El Dorado

                                                                                    Photo  prompt-© Dee Lovering

He was not bitter with the turn of events.

When they had embarked on the journey they knew that it could end in a disaster for everyone who had tried to reach El Dorado had perished.

Most of his friends had succumbed to diseases. But he would not stop.

A storm broke out and the ship tossed like a cork in the waves.

When he woke up he was on the land and all alone. He got up and stumbled on.

Out of nowhere a glorious, gilded man appeared before him. Although wonderstruck, he felt the stab in his heart.

*****

A post for Friday Fictioneers and Three Word Wednesday

Word count 100

Junk

                                                                                         Photo prompt-copyright-Sandra Crook

“Thirty years may be long in the life of a man but for mother earth they count for nothing.”

He was drunk but he had not lost his acerbic tongue, “Sometimes thirty years are too long even for earth. Look at this stream; recall what it was like thirty years back. Now it is dying; it is almost dead.”

He was blunt as ever.

I finished the drink and unknowingly I threw the empty bottle in the junk that was killing the stream.

“We are too lethargic to worry about anyone else,” he looked at the empty bottle and grimaced.

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Post for Friday Fictioneers on photo prompt

and for Three Word Wednesday

Word prompts-Blunt, Drunk, Lethargic

Word count 100