Friday Fictioneers – My Favourite Food

Copyright – Sandra Crook

To see instructions on how to submit your own 100 word story based on the prompt, see Friday Fictioneers Central.

“The Lord doesn’t have time for goats that run amok, getting filthy from head to foot! Are you a goat?”

My grandmother scolded me as I scrubbed my hands, but my head was still filled with my adventures outside, where I was an explorer.

When I’d saved enough money, I escaped from that house and from Grandma, who shook her head instead of saying goodbye.

I travelled around the world and immersed myself in cultures so dissimilar from my sterile upbringing; the explosive colours, the sound of different languages, and exotic foods

My favourite dish of all was goat curry.

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Friday Fictioneers – Some Culture For You

Copyright – Randy Mazie

Can’t believe it’s time for another round of Friday Fictioneers! If you’d like to read the other stories or read the FF rules, click here.

EDIT: The extended version of this piece can be found here.

I stand in the dark, with only the smell of urine to keep me company. I’m a trespasser, not just to this abandoned building, but to this country which you seem to have claimed for yourself. Every odd little custom and saying reminds me of the weeks in which we first met, where my looks of amusement would prompt explanations from you. “That’s just something we say where I’m from.”

I’m now in the place where you are from, in the very building you said you lived in.

“You fucking bastard.” I breathe.

That’s something we say where I’m from.

Friday Fictioneers – Homebird

Copyright – Dawn M Miller

To take part in Friday Fictioneers, click here.

All her friends spoke about travelling as if it was a rite of passage, as if you couldn’t become an adult unless you’d been on a few aeroplanes or hitchhiked through Europe. Accordingly, Suzi saved her money, made plans, and spent six months travelling from city to foreign city. Her enthusiasm waned swiftly. Every town and every station felt the same. They weren’t hers. She persevered and smiled for photographs, unwilling to admit defeat. Even though they were separated by oceans, every time she stepped off a train, she hoped he would be waiting for her on the unfamiliar platform.

Friday Fictioneers – The Worst Ride Of His Life

Copyright – Jennifer Pendergast

I love this photo! If you want to take part in Friday Fictioneers, click here.

His car was gone. He had no other option, Oliver thought. This was an emergency.

Outside the compound was Bertie, the twenty foot long honey bee they had accidentally created when trying to produce a more resistant species.  As ominous as Bertie appeared, he was actually harmless. His sting had been removed, and most of the time he wandered placidly around the enclosure.

Oliver snapped Bertie’s restraints, took a deep breath and leapt onto Bertie’s back. Bertie, startled, immediately launched into the air with Oliver desperately clutching his fur.

Oliver had a sudden thought; how was he going to steer this thing?

Alastair’s Photo Fiction – The Master

Copyright – Alastair Forbes

This prompt is from Alastair’s Photo Fiction Blog.

The master raised his arms to the sky, his features declaring rapture.

 “We worship you, glorious god, Biher! Please bring us goodness! Bring us good weather!”

The master began to bow down before the wooden statue and followers did the same.

  “…Biher is a stupid name.” one of the followers muttered.

  “How dare you utter such blasphemy!” The master pointed down at the follower. “You’ll be exiled! You’ll be cursed with a thousand curses!”

  “It’s not even the real thing. It’s just a stupid souvenir mum got from Hawaii!” the follower cried.

  “You’ll be cursed with a million curses!”

  “This is stupid game!” The follower got up from the ground, brushing grass off her cotton sundress.

  “It’s not a game! You will really be cursed! You’ll be ugly forever and ever like you are now!” the master sniggered.

   “I hate you!”

   “I hate you more!”

   “I hate you the mostest!”