Like Minds

 

 

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Thoughts of guilt and despair crashed through her mind. Radio and daytime TV offered no succour. She needed to get out. She’d take her Kindle and treat herself to a cream tea.
Idling through town, woollen hat and scarf wrapped against the cold, she found herself outside the Diner. Remembering the music, milkshakes and good times, she regretted she couldn’t enter; John might be there. Head bowed, she hurried by. The doorbell tinkled as she stepped into the café, unwinding her scarf.
John looked up from a table, “What are you doing here?”
“Avoiding the diner,” she groaned with resignation.

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

Free to Fly

 

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Dawn Miller

“Thought you’d be here…You have to turn yourself in.””
“My favourite place as a kid. Lying on my back watching the kestrel slicing perfect patterns in the sky. I liked to imagine it was my spirit, flying free.” Gavin wiped his wet cheeks. “I couldn’t take him treating me mam like that.”
Kenyon felt suddenly dizzy and wretched; despite the divorce, he hadn’t been there for either of them.
“Everyone should pay their dues but I can’t cage you.”
He offered all he could now, money.
“Good luck, you’ll need it. Best you don’t contact us anytime soon, son.”

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

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The Only Way to be Sure

 

 

 

Copyright J Hardy Carroll

Helen stood muffled against the wind and dark memories; peering through the iron railings, at the desolate house beyond the naked trees. Rain lingered on the windows like tears on the faces of the bereaved.
She fancied she saw a figure moving inside, a flicker of light tracing its progress. She heard terrifying screams as an evil hand knifed the innocents asleep in each room.
Holding her head tightly against the pain and noise, she asked herself unanswerable questions, “Who was I? Am I really changed?”
Weeping her distrust she raised her hand; this time the knife was for her.

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