Happy Friday my dear Readers! It’s time for Friday Fictioneers again, hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. This week’s photo is provided by Sandra Cook (and I really love it!). Today I am continuing the love story of Emmeline and Nicholas. If you missed last week’s story, you may want to check it out here before reading this one. Enjoy!
A Change in the Wind
“Are you going to go up Sir, or do you plan on standing outside all day?”
Nick jumped then shrugged, giving the doorman a sheepish smile. “I don’t want to disturb her, Miles.”
The impeccable doorman barely blinked before saying, “Miss Price always has time for you, Mr. Ramsey.”
Nick swallowed hard as he looked up the picturesque building, the yellow-white stone gleaming in the sun, with its Grecian columns and blooming flower boxes, feeling out of place. They hadn’t spoken since the strange moment in the graveyard, but now he knew Emmeline was hiding something from him.
Happy Friday, Readers! Can you believe it’s here already? As promised in last week’s Friday Fictioneers, I will be continuing the story about the characters I introduced – Nicholas Ramsey and Emmeline Price. If you missed their first story, check it out here.
Thank you to Rochelle for providing us with a prompt week after week. And special thanks to Shaktiki Sharma for providing this week’s photo.
It’s The Little Things
Nick came running when a sudden shriek tore the air. He rounded the corner, certain Miss Price was being mugged or worse. What he found was Emmeline desperately swatting the air with her pamphlets. Then in the most dignified manner she could manage, she smoothed her dress and patted her hair.
“What happened?” asked Nick, breathless.
Emmeline cleared her throat. “It was a bug.”
Nick stared at her, dumbfounded. Here was a woman who walked unafraid in the slums of Chicago and faced business tycoons on a daily basis, but shrieked at the sight of a bug. He burst out laughing.
I went a little over on today’s prompt. My story is actually 150 words, but try as I might, I just couldn’t edit it down any further. Hope you will enjoy it anyway. Thanks for reading!
What She Wanted
“Power outages all over the city….” The radio crackled with static. Alice lay on her bed in her new black dress, her makeup a bit smudged from tears that had rolled down her cheeks.
The front door opened and closed. Alice closed her eyes. Daniel had come. She heard him rustling around in the kitchen, but she still lay on the bed in the dark.
In a few minutes, Daniel poked his head inside her room. “Come here, beautiful,” he said with a smile. “I have a surprise for you.”
She followed him resignedly to the kitchen and saw the table lit by two kerosene lamps. A bowl of chips and salsa sat next to a plate of sliced apples and a bottle of wine. “It’s not the same as a fancy restaurant, but will you have dinner with me, Alice?”
Wordlessly Alice slipped her arms around him. “It’s perfect.”
Happy late Friday, my dear Readers! It’s time again for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. I write this for you before I head off to dream land. Today’s photo credit goes to Jan Wanye Fields. Enjoy the story, even if it isn’t a happy one.
Guilt twisted her stomach, making it impossible to swallow another mouthful. Rachel pushed her plate away. “May I be excused?”
Forks clattered against plates. “You’ve barely touched your food, Precious,” her father said.
Rachel gave him a pained smile. “I don’t feel well.” She hurried away as fast as decorum would allow and barely made it to the window seat in the hall before collapsing. “He’ll never forgive me,” she whispered.
On the the other side of town, a young man clutched a crumpled note. It was a letter, written in feminine hand. The first read line read, “I’m sorry.“
Happy Friday everyone! Only 5 more days til Christmas! Who is excited? I know I am. But I’m also excited for Friday Fictioneers, which is one of the best parts of my week. This little writing exercise always lifts my spirits, even when nothing else does. Thank you, as always, to Rochelle for providing the weekly prompt!
She studied the sun catcher in her kitchen window, lost in thought. Dull light shimmered as it passed through the colored glass.
Blue, like his eyes. The ones that crinkled when he smiled and looked at her like no one had ever looked at her before.
Grey, like the suits he favored when they went out.
Blue, like the way she was feeling after last night’s fight.
Grey, like the rain clouds outside, full to bursting. The steady downpour matched her spirits.
Behind her the Christmas tree sat unlit in her livingroom, and “Blue Christmas” played softly on the radio.