Ramning Evidence – Friday Fictioneers

The title is a terrible pun, I know. I just hope I’m the first one to make it this week.

copyright Adam Ickes

copyright Adam Ickes

Ramning Evidence

My grandfather said it was a relic, that hideous taxidermist’s ram that sat in the corner and stared with unblinking eyes. He said he got it in Africa. He told the tale in great detail and I listened, worried, since it hadn’t been in his nursing home room the week before.

Finally, I stole it while he was sleeping. That night, I picked it apart. I found the hidden cameras inside, the listening devices. Armed with damning evidence, I threatened to sue the nursing home.

Turns out, my grandfather bought it online. He thought the nurses were stealing his books.


This is the first time in a long time that I’ve had the time, energy, and Internet access to do the Sunday Photo Fiction story. Hopefully, though, I can continue this from now on though.

copyright Al Forbes

copyright Al Forbes


“You know, Harry,” I said, sitting down on a bench overlooking the lake. “This is where I went to camp when I was young. That’s when I found I had powers.”

“Is this like how you say you have eyes on the back of your head?” my son Harry asked.

“Kind of,” I said. Except I could use my mind to move things. I was out one night and suddenly—POW!—a boulder almost fell on me. I picked it up with my mind and threw it in the lake. SPLASH!”

“So, you’re like a Superdad?” Harry asked, skepticism oozing from his expression. “Well, do something now to prove it.”

“Ooh sorry, I’m retired now. Being a father and all, you know.”

“Yeah. Can we get ice cream now?”

“Sure,” I said. Harry stood up and walked towards the roadside ice cream stand.

“You almost had him there,” a middle-aged man sitting nearby commented.

“I don’t know; kids are pretty shrewd these days. Excuse me for a moment.” I could see a swimmer across the lake struggling in deep water. I pulled him into the shallows, turned and nodded to the man, then followed Harry to get ice cream.

Approaching Storms – Friday Fictioneers

Copyright Kelly Sands

Copyright Kelly Sands

Approaching Storms

A storm was coming.

Rebecca stood, tied to a stake, on the uncannily silent beach, watching coal-black clouds gather and build. She had deserted. Tomorrow she would be shot.

Lightning blazed through the approaching tempest. In its fitful glow, a warship appeared, then many more. They were not friendly, Rebecca knew. The invasion had finally come.

Darkness thickened but still no alarm sounded. The sentries must be asleep.

She imagined herself raising the alarm, being pardoned—a hero. She pictured the invasion force rescuing her. The calculating wheels of  self-preservation spun. She opened her mouth to scream, but still hesitated.


He’s a Natural Man… – Friday Fictioneers

This is probably the latest I’ve ever posted a Friday Fictioneers story, since I usually do it on Wednesday. But we just got back to North America and this whole week has been up in the air (partially literally). I’ve been the first on the list before. Maybe this time I’ll be the last on the list.

copyright Claire Fuller

copyright Claire Fuller

He’s a Natural Man…

“It’s for our landlord,” I told Joe, pointing to the festivities. “He’s never bathed, ever. After a few years, lichen started to accumulate. We tried to get rid of him but by then, he had Greenpeace on his side, seeing that he was so much a part of the environment.”

“Sounds disgusting,” Joe said.

“Well, yeah, but he’s kind of a local treasure now. After the town accepted him, they fought hard to get him recognition. Let’s go: the party’s starting.”

We walked over to where a huge banner proudly proclaimed:


Bruised Heartwood – Friday Fictioneers

I’m currently on the road and writing this in a hotel. As always, I wish I could read more of the other stories but I should be able to pretty soon in the future.

copyright Madison Woods

copyright Madison Woods

Bruised Heartwood

The gnarled old oak tree on the hill loved Jenny. He loved watching her spread her picnic blanket in his shade.

“I’ll dress up for Halloween,” he said, and propped a goat’s skull in the crook of his branches.

But no one saw or cared, even Jenny who was at a party.

His heartwood was wounded deeply, and tearing up roots long planted, he rampaged through the town.

They caught him, cut him down, chopped him up. “Trees go bad,” they said.

But Jenny didn’t dance around the fire they made and her heart ached, although she didn’t know why.


Mommy’s Little Miracle – Friday Fictioneers

I’m quite late this week, but I’ve been pretty busy. Still, the end is in sight: two more days until we move. Things will still be hectic, but at least I won’t have all the packing and cleaning I have now.

copyright Mary Shipman

copyright Mary Shipman

Mommy’s Little Miracle

Swish, swish.

Pastel colors brushed onto old, warped walls. The pungent smell of new paint mingled with the lusty cries of new life in the next room. The last few days had been a whirlwind of activity, a maelstrom of emotions: anticipation at the hospital, a few moments of fear and now, pure elation.

She had long given up on having a family, but now here he was, her little miracle.

Well, almost hers. Her eyes flicked to the TV news. A few more months. When she had outlasted the searches and the Amber alerts, he would be hers forever.


The Procedure was Painless – Friday Fictioneers

Hi everyone. I’m still completely swamped with moving and packing but only for a few more weeks. I feel really bad I haven’t been able to read more of the other Friday Fictioneer stories, but be patient with me, if possible. In other news, my two-year blogging anniversary just passed. In some ways, it seems way longer than that.

copyright Ted Strutz

copyright Ted Strutz

The Procedure was Painless

Saja’s tongue ran over the foreign terrain of his now-vacant gums. He looked down at his weaponless paws.

Guards escorted him to the ship, alert for predators.

“Welcome aboard,” the captain said. “When we reach Languenpax, everything will be provided: food, mates, anything you want. Still, you’ll need to be caged for the journey.”

“Why?” Saja asked. “I’m not dangerous anymore.”

“You’re still extremely strong. We do have a weakening procedure . . .”

Saja just nodded. It would be worth it, he hoped. Nevertheless, as they led him away, he cast a last glance back at the wild savannah of his birth.


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