Tag Archives: stalker

Through the Drapes…Friday Fictioneers June 13, 2019.

Miff found herself drawn into an increasingly sticky web after her casual observations of her neighbours turned obsessive and her notebook was filled with minute observations. The husband, Jerome, was a Neanderthal of the worst order keeping his wife locked up like a slave. Miff had never seen her. However, her lingerie, which she’d photographed out on the line in case it was required as evidence, was clearly very expensive. Miff was poised on the edge of her chair waiting for the shouting, the violence, which strangely never came. There were only his comings and goings. No sign of her at all.

….

102 Words.

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. This week’s prompt was provided by © Valerie J. Barrett. Thank you Valerie.

We’d love you to join us. Every week, Rochelle posts a photo prompt and we respond in 100 words or less and I’ve been quite amazed at what we’ve been able to accomplish in so few words. Makes me ponder the need for the novel.

Moonlight Sonata…Friday Fictioneers.

Mr Suave was wrapped around Claudia like a snake.

“Beam me up, Scotty,” she coaxed through the moonlight.

That jerk had caught her hook, line and sinker.

Barnie wasn’t happy.

“All brawn. No brains. Bet HE couldn’t fix her hard drive!”

Known on campus as “The Guru”, Claudia had brought in her computer. While Barnie couldn’t talk to women, he could hack into their hard drives. They were an open book. Every day, Barnie thanked God for selfies, although he knew the risks.

That’s how he met Claudia. Knew her inside out.

Now, she was going to know him.


This has been another contribution for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields. This week’s photo prompt is © Dale Rogerson. You can access the linky Here

xx Rowena

The Wharfie – Friday Fictioneers.

Henry clocked on, praying he’d get through the day without screwing up. Broke and dossing down on Steve’s couch, he couldn’t go outside without freaking out. The bitch was lurking on every corner. Nowhere was safe.

It was too soon, but Steve had got him the job. He was a union man. No questions asked, all his troubles slipped under the radar. Surely, it wouldn’t matter that he couldn’t pick red from green, or that he read things back to front…

Yet, even before his first smoko, he’d spotted the “Thomas” backpack lying by the wharf.

He didn’t even think.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

This has been another contribution to  Friday fictioneers, a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.

PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria.

xx Rowena