Never Trust a Writer


*It’s time for Monday’s Finish the Story. If you would like to participate in Monday’s finish the story click on the picture above.

Thanks to Barbara W. Beacham for hosting it.

The prompt beginning sentence is-” They followed the buffaloes and their babies along the trail heading into the woods.”  The picture prompt is below.  Here is my story.

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

They followed the buffaloes and their babies along the trail heading into the woods. The writer wrote in the next scene.

“Whoa. I’m not following buffaloes and their babies. I know what happens in stories to people who follow buffalos.” Henry, the writer’s character, said.

“Is that so? What happens?”

“They get attacked by Indians.”

“It’s my story.”

“I lost everything I had in Chapter One. I had a gunshot wound in Chapter Four, and now I’m following buffaloes in Chapter Eight. Let me write the next scene.” Henry said.

“Absolutely not.” The writer said.

“What’s the matter? Scared you’ll get attacked by Indians?”

“Why don’t you just follow the buffaloes like the rest of the characters?”

“Why don’t you just write a scene without buffaloes?” Henry said.

“Very Well.”

They couldn’t follow the buffaloes because their beloved cowboy, Henry, was stricken with Cholera.

“Note to self, never trust a writer.”



First Friday Fictioneers Post is my Twenty-First Post (Woo-Hoo)

This makes my twenty-first post.  I am having so much fun taking part in the flash fiction challenges.  It is has been great being able to interact with many other like-minded bloggers.  I look forward to interacting with many more of you while continuing to grow as a writer.  My goal is to compose 365 post this year.  If I continue at this pace I will have shelled out many more than that goal.  No matter what,  I want to make it enjoyable and continue to meet many other wonderful bloggers.

Below is the photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers.  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the creator of the group as many of you know better than me.  Much thanks to her for continuing to provide prompts and assemble this group of writers.  I look forward to interacting with the Fictioneers in the future.

If you would like to take part in this Flash Fiction Challenge, you can click here for more information.  Below is my contribution to this challenge

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot


She tripped running up the stairs. She had to reach him. He took a nap every afternoon when he arrived home. It didn’t matter that he was fifteen. He was her blue-eyed baby boy.

The smoke was suffocating. When she reached the apartment, it was fully enflamed.

“Mam, you have to come with me.” The firefighter said as he grabbed her trembling arm.

“My baby is in there.” She screamed.

“Let me do my job.”

She didn’t remember the firefighter carrying her down the stairs. All she remembered was the sound of her baby’s voice.

“Momma, I made it out.”

99 words

The Night in the Abandoned Schoolhouse


*The prompt is this picture that I took close to my husband’s grandparent’s place.

It was raining the night that Josh McClellan and I spent the night in the old Bloomo schoolhouse. I couldn’t tell you, how many times, I had passed by the school, on my way to my grandparent’s house. I had even  walked up to it one time, only to be spooked away, by an atrocious banging sound. To be more accurate, it sounded like metal scraping against wood. The kind of sound that you hear in some cheap, gory thriller movie, before the girl gets killed. I’m a girl.  I have no desire to die in the middle of nowhere, in an abandoned schoolhouse, by a ghost that has been haunting it for decades.

You can imagine my reluctance, when Josh’s grandpa’s truck quit on us, and he suggested that we walk up to the old schoolhouse.

“Why don’t we just call your dad to come get us?” I asked, before we ventured out of the green truck.

“No service, I checked.  We better get walking before this storm gets any worse. The wind is already starting to blow some big limbs off the trees.”

Josh and I had been friends since we were five years old. I had been in just about every situation with him that I could think of.  Lately though, things had been a little awkward between us.  I would find my stomach all tied up in knots when I was around Josh. I had also, caught Josh staring at me when he thought that I wasn’t looking;talk about awkward.

“I’ll race you there.” Josh was out and running toward the schoolhouse and so, there was nothing else for me to do, but run after him.

Surprisingly, we weren’t soaked when we reached the building.  The rain had let up, just long enough for us to make our way over to our destination.

Josh stepped in the school room, seconds before me. When I entered, I could see the wooden floors were cracked with age, and the desks that remained were covered with dust, from years of neglect.

I watched, as Josh took his plaid, button down shirt off, and placed it on one of the desk seats. My body became stiff, as I continued to watch him. I was staring, I realized. I couldn’t control it.  He worked out every day. He was the captain of the Rocket football team. He had muscles that were in all the right places and I was alone with him, in the middle of a storm, in an abandoned building. This was going to be a long night.

*I hope that some of you will write your own story from the picture and post it in the comments.