Unrequited love

(100-word flash fiction)

The toad was heart-broken. He had spent the summer, belting out the most melodious croaks, while she remained unmoved. All his mates had spawned families that were frolicking in gay abandon, while he mooned over this divine other-worldly creature.

Not surprisingly, he was the talk of the entire pond. Toad families came to gaze at him even as he gazed at his loved one, quite lost in the throes of love. Poetic toads were even writing ballads about his unrequited love.

Finally, his mother arrived, took one look and gagged in incredulity, “How can you have toadlets with a lotus?”


Wanted to stay clear of seriousness, as there is too much of it in the real world. Much love to Rochelle for hosting the wonderfully eclectic Friday Fictioneers. 🙂

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

Click on the froggie to read all the other stories.

Band aid

(100-word flash fiction)

She was hooked the very first time. The music pulsated through her, crackling, drumbeating, laughing, dancing, exploding, just as surely as any drug. How could she resist when adventure called?

Dan, the stable guy, was soon dispatched.

Thirty years later, here they are, quietly sipping tea.

“You wrote a book, I hear.” He breaks a long silence.

She knows he hasn’t read it, but lets it pass.

“You didn’t marry, Dan? What about the kids and family life you wanted?”

“You have five.”

“The stars, they never wanted their kids to carry their name. I gave them yours, Dan Jones.”


Groupies were also called ‘band aids’


Thanks Rochelle for hosting another excellent episode of the Friday Fictioneers 🙂

Photo prompt below –


Come on along and click the dancing frog to join the fun!


(100-word flash fiction)

Melania is infuriated.

Everyone else’s in lockdown, having a break, but she is still expected to get up, dress up and turn up. She’s tired of pretending to listen, pretending to look intelligent, pretending to care.

She would rather take long baths and catch up with what the Kardashians are doing.

But, this is the last straw. Day in and day out, even to official meetings, her husband now wears this floral cap that says ‘Aloha!’

Trump’s logic. “If you run away from the virus, it will catch you. But if you welcome it, it will run away from you.”


Couldn’t resist a wee dig at our chief entertainer.


For the Fiday Fictioneers prompt, head over to our chief shepheress’ page. For more stories, click on the colourful frog icon below.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

Click the Frog to Join the Party


The quarry

(100-word flash fiction)

He’s already tired of the 21st century. People wore far too many clothes. Sweat gathers under his disguise of bright floral tunic and the matching cap squashes his golden curls.

Jove’s brief had been clear and after many moons he has found his quarry. Here she is, emerging from this seaside shack.

What? No. Of all the nubile nymphs Jove has seduced, she is the skinniest. Why, he himself could boast more curves. As she sashays closer, he almost drops his tools in shock. She’s a MAN.

But, no time for distractions.  Cupid raises his bow and arrow and aims.


Jove is another name for the Roman god Jupiter.


Thanks Rochelle for hosting yet another party of Friday Fictioneers.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

Click the Frog to Join the Party



(100-word flash fiction)

Tracey is overjoyed. Justin’s lunch boxes are coming back empty. And he’s also putting on weight. She attributes it to the fully eaten lunches. But why the sudden change?

Finally, she asks casually, “You seem to be extra hungry at school these days. Been doing more sports?”

“Mmm…mmmm, not really!”

“Well! You’ve been polishing off all your lunches of late.”

And innocent 7-year old that he is, he blurts out. “We found this strange machine in the woods behind the school. You put your lunchbox in and the food turns into whatever you ask for, like burgers and pizzas.”


After some reluctance from the muse, it delivered two stories. This one is rather playful, even whimsical after that super serious one I did before. To read Rochelle’s story and all other FF contributions, head here.


PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


Time travel

(100-word flash fiction)

“What’s this?” Aranck pointed. They had never been this far into the forest before.

“Let’s check it out.” Askook, the ever adventurous, reached forward with his spear.

“Don’t!”  It was too late.

Instantly, lightning sparked up and crackled through spear and carrier. And he was gone. Without a trace.

(1000 years later at the same spot, on a modern sidewalk, a man in strange clothing with a spear appears.

He is arrested (for carrying unlicensed arms), tried and spends two years in prison. They would have liked to deport him but couldn’t decipher where he’s from.

He is homeless now.


Thinking of first nation people always makes me angry and sad, especially now when I read news reports about how the South American first nation people are in danger of being wiped out by the corona virus. I just wish we would leave them alone and not try to “convert” or conquer them. And give back all their lands.


Thanks for another great prompt Rochelle. Hope all of the FF gang are keeping safe and in their bubble 🙂

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

GO AHEAD…CLICK ME!           


(100-word flash fiction)

She had seen pictures of these semi-museums. Now, she was standing in one.

“It would have been odd,” she mused, “to eat in public, with people watching. Could I have licked my fingers? Burp?” She had to worry about none of that. Eating out meant the food arrived at her doorstep with the click of a few buttons.

Yet, there was festivity in this setting, even pomp, as though the act of eating was worthy of celebration. She imagined the hum of voices, scents rising from sweltering plates, the communality of the experience.

All of which stopped in 2020.

Returning to FF after a long, long time.  Been busy changing countries, restarting business, finding my bearings. It’s good to start writing again. Thanks Rochelle for continuing to continue and so ably that too. Looking forward to reading all the other FFs 🙂

Photo prompt –

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The Lamp

(100-word flash fiction)

“Ah! Treasure trove!” said Harry, spotting the piled-up pallets, spouting broken bits-and-pieces.

Megan smiled, bemused. She had never thought her new, immaculately-dressed boyfriend would have a fetish for junk.

“Look! A lamp!” He pulled out a dulled bronze thingy.

“Do you think I should rub it?” Harry’s face sparkled with anticipation as he turned towards her.

But, she was gaping, horror-stricken, at something behind him.

“Your wish shall be fulfilled, dear girl.” said the ghost of Henry VIII. “Poor bugger didn’t know the one the lamp is pointed at makes the wish.”

“Croak!” said Harry and jumped into the lake.


My muse is a tad naughty this time. I had a great time visualising this. You can tell I am not a royalist 😀 Thanks to the lovely Rochelle for shepherding us week after week with such graciousness.

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Both sides

(100-word flash fiction)

Everyday, as she walks past, Lila admires the house. Gleaming in the sunlight, it looks so warm and welcoming, so totally unlike her old, dingy shack. She imagines a house filled with bustle and laughter.

Inside the house, the air hardly moves as Maya sits at the window, in her wheelchair, watching the passing girl. She drinks in her spritely walk, her jaunty ponytail sashaying in the sunlight, her intense gaze, almost daring her to walk.

Months later, she tells her surprised doctor, “She willed me to walk, that girl who sent me waves of joyous energy down her gaze.”


I wanted to write something uplifting, in contrast to the somber mood of the winter we are in. Leafless trees and frost. And I do believe in the tremendous power of our thoughts to change our reality. Returning once again to the eclectic group of Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle 🙂




(100-word flash fiction)

She stood in the centre of a small gathering, in the park, playing as usual.

Moonlight glinted off the bow, the strings, her golden hair, as though light was turning into notes into little waves of joy, into a loosening of his pain, into tiny glimpses of a smile.

He listened, becoming a little boy, helplessly watching his mother play, waiting for his father, who never came home.

On the subway ride home, he finally gets to read through the newspaper. A small column informs him, “The brilliant violinist Aurora has been mugged and killed in the park last night.”


It’s Wednesday again when an eclectic group of writers gather around the Friday Fictioneers fire to tell short stories, all prodded by the Girl Guide in Purple, Rochelle 🙂

Photo prompt –

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields