The escape.

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she knew she had only moments. her escape would be noticed soon and the dogs would be on her trail. her bag had been packed and hidden for days but her chance had finally come and the door was unguarded.  she snuck past the gate somehow not waking the sleeping guard dog from his slumber. she could hear the dog now behind her he must have heard her after all.  the guard would be after her as well.  she had not gotten enough of a head start. she knew her escape had failed. she heard the words, ‘honey!, lunch time!’

 This is my entry for this week’s Friday Fictioneers Challenge run by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge is to write a story from the picture prompt in exactly 100 words.

 

if only we had listened

We tried to listen, but the excitement was just too much, we grabbed our towels and ran.  We loved those unpredictable waves, telling each other , “go farther”  to see who would be knocked down first. We love the water, at home the fast rushing river or creek, or the calm smooth lake, tasting nice and cool when you got it in your mouth.  The ocean was a whole new world every summer, salty and stinging, scary and exciting.  There was just no time for sunscreen…  if we had only realized how much time would be lost, when we could have been in the waves.

Come on over to Madison Woods Blog to see more 100 word photo prompt stories, or even add your own

It seemed like a good idea at the time…

Mom and Granny were busy with something and it was HOT outside. There was no pool to play in, the slip and slide had offered it last slide ages ago, and we just wanted to cool off a little. We found something that our young brains thought would work just fine. Put it on a slope, add a little water from the spigot by the garden and voila! A redneck waterslide!
Turns out it was NOT a good idea, the ugly scar on my knee reminds me nearly every day that corrugated tin sheets do not a good water slide make.

The outline of a memory

It had to be nearby; she remembered walking this path to picnic in the shade with her grandparents. Now the area seemed so different yet so much the same it was hard to remember, should she have turned into the woods sooner, she remembered there was a tiny arbor at the end.
Suddenly, she felt she was in the right place, but she couldn’t see anything except a sprawling grapevine. As if by magic she realized the sprawling grapevine outlined the shape of a house, and barely held up a crumbling chimney, an outline, a memory of what was.

Come on over to Madison Woods Blog to see more 100 word photo prompt stories, or even add your own

The Hunt

As they speak in hushed voices, the telltale sound of the dogs gets louder. She shares her thoughts, he listens and replies.
They can tell by the sounds of the baying that the dogs are closing in on their prey.
Howling voices getting louder, shoulders tense, eyes begin to dart to the side of the path. They glance at one another to gauge readiness.
Suddenly a gray flash as the rabbit crosses ahead; too late the gun comes up! More time for her and her dad to talk as they listen to the beagles and the rabbit begin another circle…

For more 100 word stories jump on over here http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/flash-fiction/pathways/



hope

Friday Fictioneer

She saw the sign and decided to apply.  Thinking as she filled in the blanks… no experience, no references, no chance. She waited for the call knowing what the answer would be but tried to keep her spirits up for their sake at least. Another day with no call, not a surprise, they probably didn’t read past her age and lack of job history. Finally a call, she answers with a weary voice ready for the rejection. Surprise!  An offer was given, finally now, food on the table for all of them, no more growling tummies at bed time.  Hope.

http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/flash-fiction/moths-at-the-drive-through/ to see more photo prompt fiction!

a memory of a fence, post

I remember this as a gate to be opened and closed if you wanted to go past our barn.  More often than not it was just climbed over, unless we were hauling trash to the dump.  Funny now that taking the trash out means rolling the bins to the street, it is a hated chore. I remember when we fought to load the truck and drive down the road. A passenger had to open the gate; no driver would ever stoop so low. Once there it was fun to throw the bags farthest down the hill into the family dump.