Thursday, 26 April 2012

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS - 27 April 2012 - THE TRAP - My 100 Words - Linda Palund


         “Don’t think you’re gonna hold her with that barbed wire, do you?”
         Trapper John grinned, “Nah. The wire’s just for show.  I got an electric fence ‘round the landing pad. I know what I’m doing.”        
         “Sure like to know how you trapped her.”
         “No secret to catching a ‘corn.  Just Dragon Tears and a good binding spell.”
         The helicopter landed before daylight, but by then the dragon tears had dried.  The unicorn skewered Trapper John and tossed him into the barbed wire.  The buyers caught just a glimpse of silver as she cleared the fence and galloped into the dawn.

Thursday, 19 April 2012

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS - 20 of April - THE GROTTO- My 100 words - from Linda Palund


Don’t go in there, I warned them.  Stay away from that fecund place, that verdant grotto. But they had already seen its fragrant pools, the moss dripping overhead.  They longed for the sticky sweetness of it, like honey, that moisture overflowing with life.
They open their mouths, feeling the first drops on their tongues, cool and sweet, then hot and fiery.  Soon they can’t get enough.  They lap at the soaking moss until the fronds stick to their teeth, until their tongues rub against the very root of it.  Their mouths full, they cannot stop, blissfully trapped within succulent walls.

Thursday, 12 April 2012

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS - 13 of April - THE SCENIC BIKEWAY - My 100 words - from Linda Palund


Tunnels are dangerous. You never know what might be lurking inside, like muggers, rapists, or murderers; ghosts, monsters, or aliens; even little girls in red raincoats.
This little girl was wearing a pink jacket with tiny yellow bunnies all over it.  At 4 years old, she was fearless and full of life.
The tunnel was always safe, kept sparklingly clean and patrolled by the proud “Scenic Bikeway” police.  Mindie let go of her mommy’s hand and went skipping ahead into the tunnel.
Sadly, a four year old girl is no match for a twelve year old boy on a bicycle.

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS - 13 of April - TODAY - - My 100 words - from Linda Palund

NOTE FROM LAURA: Below is my first attempt for this week's story and above is my second. I thought the one below was too much like all my recent stories. I was going to delete it, but I just couldn't; stories are kind of like children, you gotta love them, so I left it here, too.

You do not have to read both of them. I kept this one for the heck of it. And also for those gosh-darned Limeskins, who won't leave me alone...


It looks so clean today, almost welcoming, that “Scenic Bikeway” tunnel, created from the disused railway line.
You wouldn’t find a trace of anything there now, not after all that bleach and those massive fire hoses they used to wipe it clean.  
But the stain wasn’t wiped from my memory. 
They blocked up the exit and chased them inside.  They used every tool they had, from pitchforks to guns.  Afterwards, they went home, cleaned themselves up, ate pancakes with their kids. 
No one talks about it, but I miss the ones who died there.  I miss the ones who died.

Friday, 6 April 2012

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS - 6 of April - THE BORDER - My 100 words - from Linda Palund


We made it to the river before sunrise. I couldn’t believe we’d found our way through another awful night.
Veils of mist rose from the meadow where the chill night air met the dawn. Seeing the sun rising behind the wall of trees masking the border made me want to weep.
“Can we go swimming now?” Little Ginnie asked hopefully.
“Hush!” I answered, quickly pushing her back behind the trees with the others. We would lay low until nightfall, exhausted enough to sleep the day away. 
Tonight we would cross the river. Tonight we would make it to the border.