Wednesday, 22 February 2012

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS - 24 of Feb 2012 - EARTH FROM PLANET 9 - My 100 words - from Linda Palund

Earth from Planet 9

         The devastation was complete.  Every satellite photo of Earth showed nothing left but rock and ash.
         We, the R7 Series Robot, and the few humans from our last shuttle tour, are marooned here on Planet 9.  Calculations for survival are slim.
         Most of the visitors are over 60 years old.  Fortunately, some brought their grandchildren.  If we can nurture these through childbearing age, we may yet survive.  
         Our humans are depressed; they need hope to survive.  Perhaps our thriving hydroponic gardens will provide a playground for the children. Play can foster hope.
         Hope is the calculation where anything is possible. 

Thursday, 16 February 2012

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS - 17 of Feb 2012 - STILL WATERS - My 100 words - from Linda Palund

Still Waters

        When the snow finally melted, the autumn leaves were uncovered. Long dead, they were still startlingly red, lying in damp piles on the stone steps. 
        We climbed up the creek, where the sun shone on waters so clear, we could see the dead fish lying like tealeaves just below the surface.
        The water is icy from the snowmelt, but soon the temperature will rise, forcing the water to boil again.  
        I will sit no longer upon my throne, dangling my feet in cool water.  No insects will buzz in my ears.  No dragonflies will hover above the dead surface. 

Thursday, 9 February 2012

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS - 10 of Feb 2012 - BROKEN - My 100 words - from Linda Palund


         The Devil had been there before us.  The broken mushroom was a dead giveaway, literally. We were getting closer. 
         Everyone stood back while I examined the disturbed ground around the mushroom.  The odour of sulphur was overpowering; nauseating and asphyxiating at the same time, as if he was trying to repel us with his scent.  
         But we were not deterred.  We carried the golden braid and the silver shackles to bind him.
         There would be no escape for him now; his usefulness was over.  Zack already had the lariat ready when we caught up with him at Crater Lake.

Thursday, 2 February 2012

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS - 3 of Feb 2012 - SUNRISE- My 100 words - from Linda Palund


         Jason gave us the compass and told us if we kept walking due west, we would see them.  None of us thought it was possible.  The little ones didn’t believe they existed.
         I was older, nearly fifteen and I’d never seen one, but Jason was the oldest man we’d ever found.  He was twentyfive, laying on a stone ledge, waiting for the vultures.        
         “If you make it to Malibu Canyon, you’ll see them on the ridge. They’ve got leaves and everything."
         “What are leaves?” asked Kenny.  He was only seven, one of the last ones born after the Sunrise