Tag Archives: Friday Fictioneers

Photo copyright Susan Rouchard “He meant everything to me,” she says, adding a candle to the multitude by the stage door. “You knew him then?” She stares. “Didn’t we all?” “No, I mean really know him?” “I felt like I … Continue reading →

Photo Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Not to be picky, but not what I’d anticipated. No terraced restaurant, no palm trees, no whispering waves. Instead of caviar and soft love songs, an unkempt combo murders “Fat Bottomed Girl” on a makeshift platform, … Continue reading →

Photo copyright Amanda Forestwood Kayla stops abruptly, and I know that she too sees them now. She looks around, scans the sky, confirming that nothing can possibly have passed between her and the sun. We continue climbing, Kayla trying to … Continue reading →

The need of others to demonstrate their affections almost immobilises her at times. Caught in the headlights of their emotions, whether expressed in words, gifts or physicality, she flounders.  Love is an anathema to her, brought up as she was … Continue reading →

The thing about motion is that it distracts. Whilst driving he seldom conceptualises his arrival.  Nor does he visualise the downhill trajectory after the initial “great to see you” moments. And it would be plain heresy to anticipate leaving… at … Continue reading →

“On this bike, son, I ride to the stars and back every night.” “It really doesn’t look like it goes anywhere, grandad,” says Joshua doubtfully, surveying the rusting wreck. “The power of a man’s imagination son,” Oscar says waving airily … Continue reading →

We watched as she unwrapped him, one layer at a time, pausing to caress, assess, sometimes rationalise before moving steadfastly to the next layer. There was a doggedness about her, transitioning slowly from an unwillingness to accept each revelation, through … Continue reading →

It’s a good-natured split; why wouldn’t it be?  They practically grew up together. “You sure you’re okay with the Le Creuset set?” she says, doubtfully.  “If you like I’ll swap it for the slow-cooker.” “I’m good,” he says.  “I’ve more … Continue reading →