Friday Fictioneers – Debts Paid

Photo supplied by Douglas M MacIlroy

Happy Friday Fictioneers day, AKA Wednesday! Hope you are all surviving lockdown, If you want to submit your own 100 word story based on the photograph, or see others, just follow this link

“A little something to wet your beak on.”

Crack.

“Glad to see you survived your meeting with Sparrowhawk,” said Tawny Owl, placing Finch’s drink on the bar. “He doesn’t forgive debtors easily.”

Finch didn’t reply, memories of last night circulating like a jerky film reel.

Crack.

“I have the perfect job for a little birdie like you,” Sparrowhawk had said. “A message to deliver.”

At the described tree, Finch heaved to dislodge and topple the stranger’s nest. Only then did he hear.

Crack.

Glimpses of broken shell, scattered.

Minutes later, Finch trembled under Sparrowhawk’s gaze, “Message delivered.”

Sunday Photo Fiction – Yellow

Bicycles

Photograph by Susan Spaulding

Hello all. This is an entry for Sunday Photo Fiction. Coming in well under the word limit today – but for once it just didn’t feel right to add anything else. One thing I struggled with was the shortening of toasted sandwich – growing up this was called a toastie, but not sure how widely used that term is? 

“Where’s your mum pissed off to this time?”

“Didn’t ask. Don’t care,” Layla said, almost like she meant it.

There was a greasy hiss from the toastie-maker as Rachel popped the lid.

“Puts a dint in those fabulous plans she promised?” Rachel guessed. She flipped the sandwiches onto plates and set them on the table.

Layla pierced hers with a fork. The toastie exhaled steam before haemorrhaging nutella-banana filling.

“I love these,” Layla said. “Better than birthday cake, anyway.”

Rachel raised a glass of lemonade.

“Happy sweet sixteenth, Layla.”