Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog link-up based on a photo prompt. The Challenge – write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle, and end. (No one will be ostracized for going a few words over the count.) The Key – make every word count. Up to the challenge? Join in!
Those bottles were her life. A collection she’d curated carefully, over decades. It was somewhat fitting they were the last thing she saw, staring at the harsh light in-between the filtered, delicate auras of the glass, rather than the elbow jutting out under her chin like a second chin. One minute struggling to lift the bar stools up onto the bar so she could mop the floor–the last thing she did every night before leaving–the next minute struggling to breathe. Then the blackness shut out the light, and he let her go to a heap on the floor.
100 words. Fiction. This is a late entry from last week’s photo prompt. It’s not that I couldn’t think of anything, it’s that I haven’t sat down in a week. Feedback is always appreciated. Comments of any kind really — so long as they are related to the post.
What story comes to mind when you see that picture? Join in!
*Featured and Post Image Copyright — Marie Gail Stratford
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