Author: michaelwynnauthor

Just Got to Keep Moving

/ michaelwynnauthor / 55 Comments

ceayr3

 

 

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © C.E. Ayr

He’d lit the fuse of yet another city. Standing on the bridge, Jake contemplated the rails disappearing in every direction, over mysterious horizons to unnumbered tempting futures.
He sighed, “How many times before I run out of track?”
Kicking the heavy canvas bag at his feet he smiled, “They’ll come after me, alright.” The first train hissed to a halt.
“How long can I continue? Perhaps this time I’ll find honest employment, make a proper new start.”
Slumping into his seat, he thought again, “But let’s not be hasty, maybe this track, is the beautiful one headed to rainbow’s end.”

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

 

 

 

Chapter 6 – Remember me in Roses

/ michaelwynnauthor / Leave a comment

fireworksJohn watched her stumble down the road, her shaky hand fumble the key. He waited until the door closed behind her.
Slowly he edged his car from the kerb and coasted silently down the narrow street. He didn’t know where to go but, home would be too soon.
He drove to a park overlooking the Christmas lit town, pulled a CD wallet from beneath the passenger seat and selected, Janis Ian’s ‘Have Mercy Love.’
Crackling fireworks chattered across the sky, interspersed with resounding, robust explosions.
“When love goes boom, it’s doesn’t work, if one of you hides from the blast.”

Grist to the Mill

/ michaelwynnauthor / 38 Comments

the-mill-pillar

 

 

 

 

© Sandra Crook
“He was odd, but we’re all our own shape,” Toby sighed. “Kept this place going, mind.”
Josh stood absorbing the yesterday aspect of the old mill, the sadness in the dust, cracked beams and rodent tracks.
“What happened?”
“After his missus left, he shut himself away grinding flour for a market he didn’t have.” Toby pointed at the swollen sacks, “Full o’ weevils.”
Josh poked one that bulged unevenly; his curiosity drew a knife down it. Grain and a cold arm spilled from the slit.
“Oh, it appears his wife left without her arm.”
Toby eyed the other sacks ruefully.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

Chapter 5 – Love is a Losing Game

/ michaelwynnauthor / Leave a comment

love_is_a_losing_game___by_sandritta88-d4qcpwjphoto by sandritta88

She didn’t move. He twisted in his seat. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.” She stared him down.
“You should go to him. Stop tormenting yourself.”
Her shoulders shook.
“Don’t cry, go to him and forget me.”
She stiffened in her seat and said tautly, “You say you love me, but we’ve never even touched.”
“Is that what you want?”
Scudding clouds of panic crossed her eyes.
“It wouldn’t be just once.”
“Why do you have to love me?”
He chuckled, “There wasn’t a short list to choose from. Love is never optional.”
Wrenching the handle, she leaped from the car.

Chapter 4 – I Saw Her Again Last Night

/ michaelwynnauthor / 2 Comments

i-saw-her-again-last-night

“You talk about love and my Stuart, but never mention Amy.”
John smiled, “We’re OK together.”
“But do you love her?”
He stared into the dashboard lights.
“Well?”
“It’s something that’s been taxing me, can you love two people? Are there degrees of love?”
She looked at him with consternation, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Love drops on you. Suddenly you’re consumed. So what was it before? A lower level of love?”
Alison caught her breath, “And what you have isn’t enough anymore?”
“How can it be?”
“Stuart’s a fine man, he doesn’t deserve this.”
“Does that make him enough?”

Chapter 3 – Time is on my Side

/ michaelwynnauthor / Leave a comment

terraced-street

“You could have called him to fetch you.”
He turned the ignition, The Stones blared from the radio.
“He’s probably in bed.” She left the excuse in the air, he didn’t question why that would be a problem.
“You don’t mind do you? It’s on your way.”
“I’m happy doing anything for you,” he smiled.
“Don’t…” She turned her face to the window as though suddenly finding the terraced housing infinitely interesting.
They drove the rest of the way in silence. He pulled up short of her house.
“Why did you come?”
“I don’t know,” she sobbed, “I shouldn’t have.”

Chapter 2 – When the Night has Come

/ michaelwynnauthor / 52 Comments

shaktiki3

PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

Alison fled into the evening. Her tears splintering the glare of the neon signs, she lifted her arm to a taxi she hadn’t the money for.
It sprayed the shimmering lights of a puddle at her as it passed. She watched the shattered reflections reform.
The bus-stop timetable affirmed her last chance home had departed.
“My husband is enough,” she told herself.
Through the window, John was at the jukebox buying more shared memories.
As she approached him, Ben E King pleaded, “Darling, Stand by Me.”
“You came back,” John said plainly.
“Could you…?” she faltered, “…I can’t get home.”

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

Chapter 1 – Que Sera, Sera

/ michaelwynnauthor / 29 Comments

diner-roger-bultot

 

 

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

John tapped a record into the jukebox and sat down.
“Recognise it?”
Alison smiled, “We shared our first milkshake to this.”
Her hand idled across the table to touch his. As though suddenly discovering its wandering, she jerked it back.
“Are we going…?”
“We have a choice?”
“But my husband…?”
“If he’s enough…”
“My vows…”
“…promises, morals, all pillars of society’s grand architecture.”
A tear hit Alison’s cheek.
“But love is savage; it roils like a tornado scorning man-made structures, flattening everything,” he said.
“With victims crushed beneath the debris…I must go.”
As she hurried away he called, “Enjoy your Christmas.”

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

Who Killed Cock Robin?

/ michaelwynnauthor / 39 Comments

horses-in-snow

 

 

 

 

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The land wears the snow like a starched business shirt, crisp and bright. If writing a poem today, I’ll need more words for white.
Looking out the window, I follow the spiky tracks of a bird to a point up the garden where presumably it took flight.
But, wait a minute…other sinister tracks converge. Precise paw prints like Clubs on a suit of cards. There’s the serpentine drag of a tail, a hollow that held a crouch and a spray released with a spring.
Then a small speck of red; forensic evidence of the outcome.
The neighbour’s bloody cat again!

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

Waiting in the Shadows for the Sun

/ michaelwynnauthor / 59 Comments

lucy-sol

 

 

 

 

 

PHOTO PTOMPT © Lucy Fridkin

Carlota watched the cruise ship slide serenely into the bay; the early evening sun sparkling off chrome rails and placid water.
It fascinated her that the opulent chose her island to visit on their luxurious holidays.
Mesmerised by the affluence, dreaming of escaping her sickly, dependent parents and their stone hovel, she craved the obscenity of wealth.
One day it would be her sipping cocktails on a deck lounger, her bathed in Chanel.
In the meantime, amongst those spoilt travellers would be hungry clients, seeking satisfaction.
Applying scarlet lipstick, straightening her dress, she moved to wait in her usual place.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.